tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236486387702719012024-02-18T22:30:07.531-05:00Midwestern Modern Mommanotes from the middleJenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comBlogger270125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-69239262818552784712013-08-31T17:21:00.001-04:002013-08-31T17:21:46.276-04:00Closing Time<p> For a while now I've been avoiding the inevitable. I have had a guilty cloud looming over my head regarding my blog. I come back to this space resolved to write, to post, to interact. Then I fail miserably. I forget to post for a few days. Then weeks pass. Then I remember and I feel my cheeks flaming with the warmth of embarrassment. You see, I have moved on to other ventures but haven't really left this one behind yet. </p>
<p>I have to say, with regret, it is closing time here. I don't know if I will re-open this spot in the future, or if it will remain closed permanently. I began my blog during a time when I needed a creative outlet in my life. Now I'm firing on all cylinders professionally and personally. By the time I sit down to write I am so tired I can't even think let alone put words to paper. I feel terrible about closing this down, but I don't want (the meager few) readers I have to continue to stop by and check in only to find I'm not posting still. </p>
<p>To bring everyone up to speed so you know I've not fallen off the face of the planet before I button the place up...life is awesome right now. The boy is in first grade and finally growing those front teeth he lost last year back in. Work is amazing. We have a strong team of counselors, have good plans for the year to come, and are doing good things for students. The three of us spent some awesome time in California this past summer. From San Francisco to Los Angeles and all that lies in between. We explored wine country, slept on the shores of the Pacific Ocean, walked San Francisco's neighborhoods, watched baseball games in AT&T and Dodger stadiums, drove the pacific highway, took in Disneyland, stayed in style in an Art Deco Hollywood hotel, and ate our way all through the state. It was a family trip for the ages. Somewhere along the way we forgot what day it was, what time it was, and thought about never coming back. Now that school is back in session here in the middle, the heat is starting to recede south and cooler air seep into our world, we are pulling sweaters out of storage and remembering the feeling of shoes with socks. </p>
<p>Honestly, life has gotten so hectic I have known for some time I'd have to give up blogging. I just couldn't keep up. I'll miss this more than I can say. Hopefully I'll come back here in the future. Until then, I bid you farewell from the middle. </p>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-36086468885738196512013-05-30T22:32:00.001-04:002013-05-30T22:32:35.633-04:00Palm to Forehead<p> Sometimes I am a complete moron. </p>
<p>You know, the one who drops the ball right as the runner is sliding into home plate? </p>
<p>I'm that person. I am good at bungling things from time to time. I admit it. In fact, this space is kind of my therapy space. I can safely tell all of you (or no one, depending on how many readers I have) that I am not perfect. And I'm totally cool with it. I'm at a point in my life where I will own up to my own mistakes. Say I'm sorry. Ask how to fix things. </p>
<p>Which is why today, when something I was attempting to do for my job went completely inside-out, I owned up to screwing up. Sigh. Live and learn, right? Like I said, I can massively mess up. It is quite possible this is where my own empathy for others springs. I have been in that place of guilty feelings and embarrassment. I feel your pain. </p>
<p>So I will pick up the pieces and move on. One of my resolutions for the new year (my school year is ending-and I always think about new school year resolutions right about now) is to maintain a positive outlook. I'm pretty good at this in my personal life. I want to bring it into my professional life. It starts today. This moment. Tomorrow I'll rise and shine. I have to say, I am very excited about next school year already. Lots of new and exciting changes coming. So bring it on. I'm sure along the way I will fall flat on my face, but at least I can pick myself up, dust myself off and move on. </p>
<p>Because that is what catchers who drop the ball do. We move on to the next base runner. </p>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-1160041198080180992013-05-24T16:00:00.000-04:002013-05-24T16:00:00.497-04:00What's in a Name?I was born a Jennie. Well, technically a Jennifer. For my earliest of years that "ie" followed me around everywhere in a sea of "Jenny's." I was a child of the 80's and it seemed as though I was one among hundreds with the same name. Yet my mother used the more traditional shortened spelling over the modern one to help me stand out. Then I turned ten. And at all of ten years of age, I decided to change my name. I wanted to be one of the cool kids. One of those girls who wore NKOTB t shirts knotted at their hip over neon leggings with high tops in a rainbow of colors. A girl who rocked the side pony and had a cool denim purse. So I dropped the 'ie' and went with the hip 'y'. All those yellow number 2 pencils my mother so carefully lettered with my name got scratched clean by me and re-labeled. Through those awkward middle school years, stretching into high school and early into college I stuck with the jaunty 'y' like it was my talisman against the cliques that shunned me.<br />
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But at 20 I was an adult now. I thought my name sounded entirely too childish. Dropping the end and going with a simple "Jen" made it somehow grown-up cool. My college friends all called me Jen. It was a short and easy name to use. Entering the world of work, my colleagues used it. After I married, my name became one word "Jenclark" instead of the short Jen. I felt like it embodied who I am. <br />
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Yet lately I've noticed something. My siblings still call me the old Jennie. So do my parents. And my uncles and aunts. Childhood friends use it. The strangest thing is though, my husband, stepdaughter, brothers-in-law, even my niece and nephews call me Jennie. Maybe all those years ago my mom just knew that suited me best. A sweet, old-fashioned, not formal at all name for a girl who is fun, nostalgic, not cool at all, kind of dorky, and embraces her lack of status. So I'm sticking with it. Not that I want to change anything, just keep things the way they are...because for those who know me best, I will be able to tell just by the way you answer when I pick up the phone. <br />
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And yes, I can totally hear the "ie" just like Anne of Green Gables could hear the "e" at the end of her name. Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-66097898838820611912013-05-22T16:00:00.000-04:002013-05-22T16:00:00.891-04:00I'm Baaaaaack!So, I was having a little case of writer's block and decided to step away from blogging for a while. Because everything I was writing was boring me as I wrote it. And if <i>I </i>was bored with my words, I can't imagine what reader would even want to look at them. So I stepped away. <br />
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I also was feeling overwhelmed. Professionally things were crazy for me. Somehow I knew I needed to put more focus on the actual job I have, and less on this space I fill with my musings. I needed to get a handle on my health-physical and mental. And when we humans have those times where everything and everyone is pulling at us, we have to reevaluate how we spend our energy and reallocate. That is exactly what I did. I began to pour my energies into my family, my work as a school counselor, my health and home. Things have begun to right themselves. The most hectic time of year for our family is running much more smoothly than it has in past springs. I am excited to move into a new position at work next fall. My husband and I have changed our diets and our new and healthier eating plan has been in place for about 5 weeks now, with much success. I feel as though my normal positive outlook on the world has returned, filling me with more energy and drive to tackle things I've been setting aside.<br />
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I have also had tons of new ideas to write about lately. So, I made the decision this week to fire the blog back up. I hope my readers (all 2 of you) are still out there. I was noticing a wee bit of spam, so there will be a few changes in the commenting area. But other than that, be ready for my particular brand of wit, humor, and general tomfoolery! Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-68185961513913386342013-04-02T10:49:00.001-04:002013-04-02T10:49:49.306-04:00Blocked<p>If you hadn't noticed, I have not been posting much in the past few months. </p>
<p>(Insert laugh track here)</p>
<p>It isn't for lack of trying. I sit down at a screen and start typing several times each week. Then I get halfway though a post and read it over and am all ugh about it. (Pretty sure that Ms. Styslinger is going to come back and green ink that sentence for me) I can't seem to write anything I am even interested in reading myself, let alone publishing. And I refuse to post anything that I think is garbage. </p>
<p>Where does that leave me, and my happy little blog? Well, I am going to take my massive case of guilt and writers block and vacation from writing for a bit. Not sure how long. I don't want to walk away from MMM forever. I love this space so much. No matter how tiny it is. It is my dusty corner of the interwebs. I hope by taking the pressure off, I will feel better and the cobwebs will clear. I promise I will return. Hopefully sooner rather than later. For now, I am still happily tweeting away. You can always find me there! </p>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-73058271266855005062013-02-28T09:35:00.000-05:002013-02-28T09:35:24.227-05:00And it is snowing...I remember gazing out the front doors of my one of my schools (I have a few I work in) and seeing little flakes fluttering down and promptly dashing into the office with glee. It was snowing! Come and see! Everyone get excited! Snow! <br />
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This was in December.<br />
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Today I gaze out of my office window and see little flakes fluttering down and slump down lower into my chair. It is snowing. Close the blinds. Wrap me up in a blanket (straitjacket style). Make giant mugs of coffee. Make a blazing fire. Go into denial. <br />
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Needless to say, I am struggling with winter this year. Last year we had nary a flake of snow. It was warm(er) than your average Midwestern winter. The sun shone down more than we saw clouds. Our vehicles did not become encrusted with their normal salt layers. I determined from my joy that yes, I could actually make a move to warmer climes and not miss the snow. I think last winter is why I am struggling this year. I am feeling desperate for some sunshine and warmth. The snow is no longer looking pretty to me. The wind is just cutting into my core and making me shiver. I want to pull out my sandals and sundresses.<br />
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I know, I know. I am whining. I have to endure all of March yet. I have to make it through four more tough weeks of darkness before we even start to see peeks of springtime around here. Based on my 34 years of experience, I can do this. But today, as it continues to flurry outside my window, I am feeling unable to face it.<br />
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At least Mel-O-Creme opens tomorrow. And I can get a chocolate marshmallow malt, turn the heat in my car to full-blast and pretend it is July.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-77131630803527317312013-02-26T11:45:00.000-05:002013-02-26T11:45:17.230-05:00BusyIt is that time of year. When everyone gets the grumpies. When we all tend to answer questions about our days with a heaving sigh and sharp response along the lines of one of the following:<br />
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"Don't have time"<br />
"Tired"<br />
"Worn out"<br />
"Over worked"<br />
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And my favorite of them all...<br />
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"I'm just so busy."<br />
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I know, I know. I'm just as guilty as the next person of tossing out one of those easy responses when the skies have been dingy-gray flannel for days on end, the wind has been biting into every pore, the static electricity won't stop crackling, it seems as though spring will never come, and the salt dinge just won't quit getting on <em>everything.</em> December may be the darkest month of the year, but February and March have to be the most depressing. <br />
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So I am challenging myself to a few things. First, to keep up with my new (aka: return to) fitness routine. I've been running and hitting up the elliptical at least 3-4 times each week for a few weeks now. Outside when the weather permits, and on the elliptical when it doesn't. I loathe the indoor workouts, but I still feel better. Second, keep on with better eating habits. Every time I slip back into the junky foods I feel worse. So these apples next to my keyboard are replacing the kettle corn I know is in the break room. They will make my body and spirits happier. <br />
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And the big challenge-to recognize that we are all <em>busy.</em> But that does not mean my busy is more important than your busy. And that I should focus on the positive. Spread a little good energy around. Maybe instead of the party-line answer to "How are you doing," I could shout out a better answer of "great!" or "happy to be here!" <br />
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We won't make it through to the sunnier spring days in one piece if we continuously snipe and bicker. So let's ban together. Let's focus on the good in our days. Treat each other with grace and kindness. Recognize we are all leading full and busy lives that are equally important. Take deep breaths. Lead with love. We all have value-equally.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-59405959936304963162013-02-11T08:58:00.000-05:002013-02-11T08:58:24.329-05:00Mine Is Better Than YoursIf you're anything like me, you spent the majority of your Sunday evening watching the Grammy Awards-and tweeting about everything from the fashion to the music to the presenters to the lighting effects (and the water). Yet as the evening wore on I began to notice a trend among my twitter feed (aside from the quirky mix of Downton-ites ignoring the Grammys, the weather-watchers glued to the tornado outbreak, and my school counseling tweeps engaged in their regular Sunday night edchat). There was a chorus of "my opinion on music is superior to yours." This caused me to back slowly away from engaging in any real banter with many of those whom I love chatting with on a regular basis. I mean, come on, this is music. The great uniter. The one thing we should all agree on. Yet suddenly the battle lines were drawn.<br />
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I understand I have what I consider "quirky" taste in music. In one commute to work I can switch between a country music station, a grunge 90's station, some jazz on my iPhone, and a little blues. I love classical music in a nerdtastical way (as in, I have favorite composers and eras). I will tune in to Folk Night on the NPR station when I'm back home on the weekends. I love me a good banjo player. Don't get me started on the mandolin. <br />
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You may not find any rap, urban, hip-hop, classic rock, hard rock, much pop, or electronica music in my music library. But that certainly does not mean I don't appreciate the talents those musicians bring to the table. What amazed me was the derision many had for them last night. I saw derogatory comments for just about every musician that took the stage. From Sir Elton John to Zac Brown Band, the Black Keys and Prince. I mean seriously people. These are some of the best musical minds of our generation. They may not make the music you choose to purchase, but that does not mean you cannot bring yourself to appreciate what they bring to the table. I may not like what Richard Wagner or Phillip Glass composed, and do not choose to listen to any of it, but I realize they have unique talents and skills. <br />
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I think I will take Kelly Clarkson's approach. I may not know who Miguel is, but damn if I didn't find his performance amazing. I think the best thing the Grammy Awards can do for us is celebrate the musicians we love and open our eyes to ones we don't know about. I have a few albums I will be investing in soon. And yes, I'm totally, unashamedly, on the Justin Timberlake bandwagon. Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-22515125776099852532013-02-04T09:45:00.000-05:002013-02-04T09:45:04.710-05:00Reconnecting and ReunionsToday I am exhausted. Eyes must be propped open on toothpicks just to stay open. Limbs are filled with lead. I am moving with the slowness of one stuck in a vat of molasses. <br />
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We spent our weekend travelling. The primary objective was a Rosanne Cash concert to see in Colonial Willamsburg. It was a much needed escape for me and my husband. A long dinner out over wine and good food. A weekend spent in one of our honeymoon spots. Meeting up with my stepdaughter and her husband for lunch since we were close enough to see them. An evening filled with good music and laughter. Conversation that wasn't constantly interrupted by a kindergartner's stream-of-consciousness banter. While a substantial chunk of Saturday and Sunday were spent in airports and on airplanes getting to and from our destination, I can say without reservation it was just what we needed. Even the time travelling. We needed the reconnection. Life has a way of getting in the way of couples. No matter how much we try to be present in our relationships. The minutiae of day-to-day life gets in there and can make you feel, well, just, meh. A weekend like this was just what the doctor ordered. Of course now all I want to do is be at home, with the fireplace roaring, snuggled down on his shoulder watching Out of Africa on repeat. So then there's that...<br />
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One of the sweetest things this weekend though had nothing to do with us. It came at the tail end of our trip. We were rushing to make our connecting flight back to Ohio (which ended up delayed by several hours). Once at the gate, I sat down breathlessly next to a woman with the most adorable little baby girl ever in the history of the universe. Husband continued on to find a restroom. I gushed to her about how sweet her little sleeping girl was. She told me she had been travelling from Nigeria and asked about the delay. Then asked if I had a phone she could borrow to call her husband.<br />
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Come again? She's been travelling from Nigeria. Alone. With a nine-month old baby girl? Let's all pause for a moment in respect for this mother.<br />
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So the rest of her story was all the more sweet. Her husband had left in August to start his MBA program at The Ohio State University. Their daughter was only 3 months old then. They haven't seen each other since. She was on her way to Columbus to join him with their little girl in her arms. Non stop flying, connections, more flying. Hasn't ever been out of Nigeria in her life. I have to mention here she was wearing sandals. She spoke to her husband on my phone for a bit, telling him she loved him, she was sorry about the delay, they would be there soon, the baby was fine, etc, etc. It was adorable. I wanted to hug her, but didn't want to wake the baby. When husband arrived back from the restroom we all chatted on and off through the duration of the delay. Once we boarded our flight she disappeared from view until landing. I saw her at the gate where she asked how to get to baggage-and urgent look on her face. I felt tears stinging my eyes with joy for her. A little while later as we exited the airport to our shuttle I saw to my right a taller man holding up that little, beautiful baby girl in his arms, smiling ear-to-ear, as her mother beamed from a bench below. The family was reunited on a cold and snowy Ohio evening. <br />
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Yes, it was a perfect weekend. With a perfect ending. We even got to reunite with our boy who wanted to stay longer with his friends. Which is completely understandable. The beginnings of independence are blossoming in him. <br />
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For now though, I will get back to work and hope that this next mug of coffee will wake me up. Or something like that...Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-45754773780579068212013-01-29T18:00:00.000-05:002013-01-29T18:00:29.466-05:00Finding my VoiceI've spent a few years in a bit of a professional rut of sorts. One where I felt like my wheels are spinning. Like my job isn't that important. But seriously-ask that one student who went to a school counselor with that one giant thing they couldn't tell anyone else, how important the school counselor is.<br />
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Pretty damn important.<br />
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The truth is, I've lost sight of my professional identity. It has been whittled away by scheduling, paperwork, office moves, assignment changes, chasing after new positions that were not attained, others' attitudes, and by allowing those outside of myself to define my professional worth. <br />
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That ends now. I have been at this job for seven years. Nearly eight at this point. (I mean, it is the second semester, so that counts for something, right?) Not to mention the four years of teaching English. I have had enough of waiting for value to be placed on what I do. <br />
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Ask the students who have graduated while I've held their hands through mountains of correspondence classes, career tech applications, open enrollment paperwork, and found them homes because their parents kicked them out. They will tell you how vital my job is.<br />
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Ask the students who came to see me when they felt no one else on this planet even knew they existed. But I did. Ask them if school counselors matter.<br />
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Ask the students who slip notes under my door about their (ex boyfriends, stepfathers, moms, brothers) abusing them because they are not able to say it aloud. Yet they cannot take it anymore. See if a school counselor was important to them. <br />
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Talk to the teens who used to cut, but instead come and hang with me when the urge hits. Or the ones who have relapsed and confess this tearfully, only to hear me say "It's okay. We will start over. Today is new. You are not a bad person." Ask them if school counselors are important in their recovery.<br />
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Call the parents who keep me on the phone with questions about the teenagers who baffle them because just yesterday they were perfect elementary students who listened and today they are sullen and sulky with crazy dyed hair and kohl lined eyes. The parents who see me after graduation and thank me for being there when their students would only talk to me and no one else. Ask those parents if school counselors matter.<br />
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I am tired of being asked "just what do you do?" I am tired of being relegated to a minor role. I will no longer let this happen. Because I am important. <br />
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I am your child's biggest cheerleader.<br />
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I am your child's ray of light on their worst day at school.<br />
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I am the advocate for each student, no matter who they are.<br />
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<br />Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-78992782863521198182013-01-09T09:09:00.000-05:002013-01-09T09:09:07.412-05:00When You are FiveYou sing out loud without worrying what other people will think.<br />
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You dance to your song, not considering if your moves are cool.<br />
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You give food an actual thumbs-down when you put it in your mouth and it tastes bad.<br />
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You tell someone if you like them (or not).<br />
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You love with your whole heart.<br />
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You want to learn all the things.<br />
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When you are five you filter nothing and take in everything.<br />
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Last night our son was at swimming lessons. He is re-taking the same level again. It is clear he has the same fear of water I had at his age. I am not too concerned about this, as once I got over the fear I became a fish and would swim any time I encountered so much as a puddle. The instructor took the students into the deep end and onto the short dive board. When it came to his turn he crouched down on the end and it was clear he didn't want to jump in. She seems to be no-nonsense, and I could tell she was commanding him to get in. Once he did, and bobbed to the surface (with the help of a noodle tied to his waist) he was over the moon. He climbed the ladder, skipped to the back of the line, was singing loudly, and danced while punching at the sky. Oblivious to the looks other kids were giving him. Not caring what anyone thought. He conquered a fear. He was celebrating. His next jump was a <strong><em>jump.</em></strong> An arms in the air, catapulting himself upwards off the board with all his might, splashing in fine five-year-old boy form, jump. <br />
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When I witnessed this, I thought we could all learn a little from five year-olds. They are uninhibited still. They revel in their emotions. Free of the temper tantrums of toddlerhood, yet allow themselves to fully immerse in joy and sorrow. Willing to sing out loud whatever is in their head. Willing to dance if so moved. Willing to celebrate accomplishments with abandon. When do we lose this? I think I am going to try to take some of it back. Dance some more. Sing even if I am off key. And I won't worry (or at least try not to) who thinks I've lost my mind. Because after all, why shouldn't I celebrate the best moments in life with gusto?Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-17062458002452899882013-01-08T19:34:00.001-05:002013-01-08T19:34:18.245-05:00Unearthing from Holidays<p>First order of business, I know...I had a giveaway. I am a bad blogger and failed to announce the winner! Congrats Lista! I will be in touch soon to get you your beautiful piece of glass that is currently in my office.</p>
<p>Second order of business, I have been um, well, um, BUSY. Who's idea was it to have Clarkmas, Christmas Eve, and Christmas stacked on top of each other? I mean, come on fates! We cooked and cleaned and mixed drinks like no ones business. Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love having family and friends over but I may have slightly lost my mind during the process. Not to mention we packed up Blanche and drove to the East Coast to visit the stepdaughter and her husband. It was a whirlwind! I am not certain what happened, but I know in the past few weeks we have seen the new Martin Luther King Jr memorial, opened gifts from Santa, had a Clark family viewing of the film <em>Lawless, </em>got a tour of stepson-in-law's naval ship, watched some bowl games, baked cookies, filled toys with batteries, and built some lego models. </p>
<p>zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</p>
<p>Oh, sorry. That was just me recovering from one of the spontaneous naps that seem to overtake me at a moment's notice. I hope they pass soon. </p>
<p>Now that the busy season has passed at home, I am moving into the busy season at work. Scheduling, career tech center applications, parent student conferences, orientations, planning for next year and trying to coordinate a move into a newly remodeled building at the end of it all. I'm kind of geeked out about the last part. Ever since I was hired at my current district I've been a state of moving. Like the military family of school counselors. I kid you not, in the seven years there I have had six offices. Rumor has it that this new one may be permanent. I am plotting and planning for it. I want decorations that aren't taped to the walls. A Keurig with my favorite k-cups. A floor lamp that doesn't wobble like it is about to come apart just from turning it on and off. A place where students feel they can come and feel warm and welcomed. Where parents feel comfortable to talk. Homey and professional. I. Can't. Wait. </p>
<p>How are is every one else's New Years going? I hope well. I haven't disappeared, promise. Just buried. I will keep writing! See y'all soon! </p>
<p> </p>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-71058030445215826822012-12-18T15:30:00.000-05:002012-12-18T15:30:00.673-05:00Seasonal Homesickness DisorderOh snow, I miss you. I miss your giant fluffy flakes that drift down. I miss your swirling white-outs when I'm sitting in my living room in front of a fire. I miss your cottony-soft drifts that pile up on the roadside and turn our generally flat landscape into tunnels and hills and valleys. I miss the sharp-edged trees getting flocked with coats of white. <br />
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We haven't had any snow here at all since last March. Early last March. And truly, it hasn't <em>really</em> snowed here in over a year. I mean a <em>real</em> Ohio snow. The kind that we cook batches of chili, eat peanut butter sandwiches, and drink lots of hot coffee for. The kind where schools close for a day while the streets get plowed out. The kind that makes us grateful for summer's heat and sunshine. Last winter <em>was</em> gloriously beautiful. It was warm enough that I ran outdoors much of the time. Without bundling up. It was sunny more often than not. There were days I walked out of my office and it smelled like spring-in January and February. When we bought my brand-new convertible it was March 17 and I was able to drive her home with the top down. This is so not typical. I was appreciative of the break in the weather. But I long for a good snowstorm. I know there are those who don't love snow. Those who loathe winter. But I love each season and the extremes. I wouldn't be a good Midwesterner if I didn't. Something feels like it is missing around here right now. Until we get the warnings to slow down on the roads, the schools start closing, and the winds start howling, I won't feel as though it truly is winter. And spring won't be as lovely. Nor will summer. <br />
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Can someone bring back my proper seasons? I miss them so.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-66504397283288007602012-12-17T10:42:00.000-05:002012-12-18T08:21:24.188-05:00Mag Glass GiveawayI have never had a giveaway here before. For a variety of reasons...I've only wanted to feature products from artists/crafters/bakers that I know and adore. I've been too lazy to go and seek the right fit for this space to do a giveaway. And I haven't ever stumbled into the item that is the right fit. Well, now I have. A very good friend of mine, along with her husband, has started up a business selling their glass art. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/magglassart" target="_blank">Mag Glass</a> features various pieces of hot glass and fused glass art. I am fortunate enough to own a few myself that have shown up as holiday gifts. A beautiful paperweight that resides in our living room-not on my desk. It is just too pretty for my office! I also have a necklace of white, black and orange (our school colors) that I wear on Fridays to work. Perfect for a girl who doesn't always view staff spirit wear as team sweatshirts. <br />
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So the details. There are two pieces you may choose from...<br />
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Pretty, right? If you are the lucky winner you have your choice of the snowflake or the paperweight. I'm partial to the snowflake, but that may be because it is almost Christmas and we haven't seen snow round these parts in over 200 days.<br />
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<strong>Here is how to enter...you must comment on this post with your name, a valid email address, and the piece you would choose. </strong><br />
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<strong>Bonus entries:</strong><br />
1. Following <a href="https://www.facebook.com/magglassart" target="_blank">Mag Glass</a> on Facebook and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.<br />
2. Following <a href="https://www.facebook.com/midwesternmodernmomma" target="_blank">Midwestern Modern Momma's</a> Facebook page and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.<br />
3. Following this blog through <a href="http://www.google.com/friendconnect/signin/home?st=e%3DAOG8GaDwE0Djd1VynaK6CSG3I41vV6dv%252FWtKEsj%252BNeocF8TlK%252BLdQCbBJFXBvBQw870LEuVGdP1r9YXwlwPjVUh8m2oaXr6oA59nlvsKNoi%252FCyDbEqbosXsXX0c%252FWHPNEt3G3skEpEQ7qbMyA0fo88yM5RyQLXEMXUj0q%252F7Ax5oXFwo8U6szDhNASKWJ5zuPRNZkEqy8jVYQQwJ6Gqtjbh36bZYWK6v2tus00C%252FrOoHiyP2vn3KN%252FAc%253D%26c%3Dpeoplesense&psinvite=&subscribeOnSignin=1" target="_blank">Google Friend Connect</a> and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.<br />
4. Following <a href="http://twitter.com/jmwclark" target="_blank">@jmwclark</a> on twitter and leave a separate comment letting me know you are doing so.<br />
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The giveaway is open until Friday <strong>December 21 at 11:59 p.m. EST</strong>. The giveaway is only open to U.S. residents. Be sure a valid email address is included with your comment(s). Winner will be chosen randomly and announced on this post. We will email the winner and if the winner doesn’t respond in 48 hours, a new winner will be chosen. Good luck!<br />
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<em>Disclosure: This giveaway is being provided by Mag Glass, but my opinions are my own.</em>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-53165387870224219802012-12-16T12:54:00.001-05:002012-12-16T12:54:15.916-05:00Of Teaching and LearningLike many of you, I've been glued to my social media outlet of choice on and off since Friday, staring at the television news, and trying to tear myself away from the side of my five year-old son. I've been trying to rationalize away my fears, to explain what may have gone so horrifically wrong in the mind of a young man, and to have some comprehension. I've thought about what I would write here. I've thought about many different things, but quite simply I don't want this space to be about what happened in Connecticut, because I am not part of the story. It wouldn't be right for me to write about people I do not know, and experience I have not had, when I am not a trained journalist writing for assignment. <br />
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Then this morning we had on our usual CBS Sunday Morning in the background and I heard a story about a public school music teacher and a principal harpist in The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra who had formed a group for youth-<a href="http://www.urbanharp.org/" target="_blank">The Urban Harp Youth Ensemble</a>. I listened to the story as I dressed for the day, and it got the wheels in my head turning. Teachers like Roselyn Lewis changed my life. From kindergarten through junior high school I was a shy and, okay I'll admit it, dorky kid. I had a few friends, but never was a social butterfly. I envied <i>those</i> girls. The ones who had perfectly matched outfits. The ones who played some mysterious game of tag by the fire escape on the playground. The ones who sat with the boys on the junior high school bus. The ones who got to wear cheerleading sweaters to school on game days. I was always buried in a book, giant glasses slipping down my nose, hair never quite right, re-wearing the same quasi-cool sweater to school. Then I discovered band. I started by playing the flute. Worked my way through the level books early on. By high school I was fully-immersed in the world of band nerds. If my entire day could've been spent in that band room, which occupied its own floor in my first high school, I would have been thrilled. These were my people. Music was my language. I was finally in a place where I felt appreciated. Loved. Accepted.<br />
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During my sophomore year of high school my dad started working at a high school just for kids like me. A music & performing arts magnet school. He tried to get me to go in 10th grade, but I wouldn't budge. Don't ask me why, but one day the bug bit, and I found myself auditioning for a spot. Little did I know it would be the single most important decision I have made on the fly. I may have started there with the intention of becoming a concert flutist, but I left having discovered my voice. <br />
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My choir director Basil Kochan, my band director Steve Hadgis, my English teacher Mary Styslinger, and many others were beacons of light for a young, awkward girl. I hadn't ever sung a note outside my bedroom before Mr. Kochan. I hadn't ever played a solo on my flute before Mr. Hadgis. I hadn't ever written my own words for publication before Ms. Styslinger. Suddenly I blossomed. They provided me the confidence I needed to move forward in life. <br />
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There are teachers out there in this world that do the very same thing every day. Teachers, principals, counselors, coaches, and many others who work with our young people that inspire greatness in many ways. These people are willing to do whatever it takes to help them on the path to their own destiny. Even if it means sacrificing their own. Tomorrow I will head back to my office in a school building. I will not be fearful. I will love my students even more than I did last week, or the week before. I am one of many surrogate caretakers they have while they are in our presence. Just as my son will enter his classroom tomorrow and his teachers will care for him in the same way. We will carry on. We will continue to work to build a safer country for our children. It is what must happen to honor those who have gone before.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-83807986659186812242012-12-13T09:57:00.003-05:002012-12-13T09:57:49.674-05:00He Asked and I Said YesI have a little tickle in the back of my throat this morning, my head hurts, and I'm in full-blown denial that I may be coming down with exactly the same plague my spouse has been suffering from. But it does seem fitting that today of all days I am getting sick. <br />
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Ten years ago this very morning I was teaching English to a bunch of raucous teenagers while fighting off what would become the first case of strep throat I'd had in over 15 years, when I was summoned to the office. There, in the principals office I was given a ring. By the man who would become my husband who would ten years later give me the plague that I am coming down with now. <br />
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It wasn't until later that evening that he "officially" put a ring on it. (we didn't want to disrupt the entire school day by having me show up for my afternoon classes sporting a rock that hadn't been there in the morning-bling is quite distracting to teen girls) I had gone home on a snowy afternoon to take a long hot bath, lots of medicine and a nap. I may have been blinded by a 104 degree fever, but I couldn't stop smiling while looking at that ring. <br />
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Ten years later, she fits a little tighter, has gotten some partners in crime by way of a wedding and an anniversary band, has a few scratches and dings, but shines just as brightly. I still look at her at least once each day and smile. I rarely take her off, so she's been caked in perogi dough, covered in gardening dirt, and washed with saltwater. She stands up and away from my finger proudly-so she has scratched a few faces, arms, and once a leg in her lifetime. For a few months in my life she hung around my neck on a chain while a small man grew. Someday she will be passed along as a family heirloom. </div>
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For now though, she will continue her reign on my aging left hand. A reminder of a snowy December day. Because he asked. I said yes. </div>
Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-80080717282684155312012-12-11T19:00:00.000-05:002012-12-11T19:00:05.491-05:00Old vs NewI work part of my weeks in an old building. Not as old as some of the buildings I've spent time in. (1920's era anyone?) This mass of blocks, terrazzo floor, replacement windows, boilers, and actual slate chalkboards was built during the Post-WWII boom. The other part of my week is in a school that was completed the winter of 2007. It is shiny and new. Climate controlled. <br />
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I'm kind of, really, meh about the new place.<br />
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Not that new isn't good. I get that we needed a new building. Sweaty teens in August, September, May and June is <em>not </em>conducive to optimal learning conditions. Neither is asbestos. Having working WiFi helps teachers and students alike when using new iPad technologies in the classroom. We have a better cafeteria that can quickly serve half the student body each lunch period. We have an auditorium that has an actual stage for musical performances. <br />
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But these old school buildings are so filled with character. The wooden doors that creak when you open them. The way the sunlight pour through the large glass foyer each morning onto polished floors. The rattle of the pipes as the heat cranks up in the boilers. In the building where I used to teach English (which is no longer standing) we had transom windows that would let daylight into the hallways from the classrooms. The key hole for my storage closet was a skeleton key. I had pine floors that gleamed golden. Yes the classroom was the temperature of a warm oven in the summer and the windows seeped in chilly winds during the winter months. But I swear, you could hear the echoes of the hundreds of teens who came before when the halls were empty.<br />
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Someday the new building I work in will no longer be new. The old one where I am now will no longer stand. We will cut the ribbon on the renovations that are happening this year and move back into a school that is only a shell of its former self. That may be the building that suits me best of all. Something old made new again. Saving those bricks, that hallway, those doors, for students yet to come and from the wrecking ball that haunts so many other buildings I've walked through. Yes, progress must be made. Our students deserve good places to learn. But I still mourn the beautiful buildings filled with craftsmanship we will never get back.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-43803258430935860832012-12-04T16:00:00.000-05:002012-12-04T16:00:05.865-05:00Your ParentsSo my husband and I escaped our hectic lives for a bit over the weekend. Saturday morning we hit the road and left our rambunctious five year-old behind with my parents. For about 36 hours we reveled in adult pleasures. (get yer minds outta the gutters people) We wandered the city streets and shopped without a wee one asking when we would get candy or toys. We went into a liquor store and didn't worry about gasps about bringing a kid in (or some little hand knocking glass bottles over). We watched an entire sporting event from start to finish without having to take 15 bathroom breaks and 10 trips to concessions. We had dinner and cocktails in a whiskey bar. With grownups. We slept-in. It was glorious. <br />
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Yesterday was supposed to be a return to reality-my day back to work and our son's return to school. Grandparents are now departed. Routine is restored. But the fog rolled in on its little cat feet and parked right over our respective school districts. Unexpectedly we had an extra day off. An unplanned for three-day weekend! What did I spend my day doing, you ask? Why hearing all about "your parents." Our son told me not about grandma and grandpa, but called them "your parents" in some formal way. He told me how my mother (side note, I have never called my mom <em>mother</em> in my life) made him Christmas pancakes for breakfast in the shape of Mickey Mouse-and didn't make him eat a cereal bar. You know, the breakfast he has chose to eat for the past year or so. He told me all about my father (aka dad) and his puzzle making abilities. At one point he said "your parents are the nicest family around. Nicer than our family. Nicer than any family I know. I want to live with them." Sigh. Someone was spoiled. <br />
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Not that I begrudge him the weekend of spoiling. I had weekends with my grandmother where I sat on the kitchen counter while she fried up French toast. Weekends where we went shopping and lunched. Sleepovers where we watched <em>Gone With the Wind </em>for the gozillionth time while she rolled her hair. Long phone conversations from my dorm room to her kitchen. I may not have said it the same way my son did, but my dad's mother was lovely. So I get it. Parents are the ones who have to make you eat gross foods, do your homework, pick up your clothes, clean your playroom, sit in time-out, write apology notes to teachers when you have to clip down, make you come in when it gets dark, and turn of that darn TV. "Your parents" are the ones who give you extra dessert, make cookies with you and let you lick the spoon, craft until the glue coats their hands and arms, color all afternoon on construction paper, play mysterious games of football where they don't understand the rules you've created, and indulge your every whim. <br />
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I think all three of us needed a weekend of indulgence. My husband and I needed to have one long date. Our son needed some serious grandparent play time. It recharges batteries. We are now officially headed into the three busiest weeks of the year. And I am so ready for them. Thank goodness for my parents, some fog, a whiskey bar, and an excuse to get away.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-33010607791839128122012-11-28T15:00:00.000-05:002012-11-28T15:00:05.890-05:00Cold Weather EssentialsThe leaves are a far-off memory (at least here), the winds that are blowing across the fields are no longer the balmy summer breezes, but chilly harbingers of cold winter storms, the air is snapping with static electricity. Winter is (almost) here in the middle. Which means, I am stocking up on some essentials to see us through. In the spirit of the cozy season, I thought I would share with you some of my favorites. <br />
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During the summer, my skin is supple. Smooth. Perfect. Yet once winter rolls around it is as if an arid desert sets up shop over my extremities. I am suddenly chapped, itchy, and generally miserable. I haven't found the perfect lotion yet-I am still on the lookout. But I have found the perfect lip remedy that keeps me from peeling my entire face off during blizzard conditions. Carmex. <br />
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Oh that perfect yellow tin of healing balm. Your red banner and white lettering reassure me that healing is close at hand. My chapped lips will be soothed. This Midwestern staple (since 1937) is one I could never face winter without. It can be found in nearly every coat pocket of mine, purse, and work bag. And it is easy on the purse strings, so stock up. Then pick up a few for stocking stuffers. Your family will thank you! </div>
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As a school counselor, married to a school administrator, with a child in elementary school, it is inevitable one of us-if not all-will come down with a nasty cold at some point during the winter. No amount of hand washing and personal hygiene and vitamin C seems to prevent this from happening. When the cold sets in, there are only a few things I want to pull off the shelf in our kitchen to cure what ails me (aside from regular dosing of hot toddys made with good whiskey, lemon, and honey). </div>
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Bigelow's Lemon Lift Tea and Mrs. Weiss' Chicken (flavor) Kluski Noodle Soup are the two make-me-feel-better comfort foods I keep stocked in the pantry for the occasion that a cold will strike. I have both right now. Of course, if he isn't felled by the same illness, my husband usually will whip up a batch of his from-scratch, no recipe involved, warm chocolate pudding when I'm sick. It warms you to your toes and is the ultimate in comfort food. But these two-tea and soup-are what I've turned to since I was a little girl. And as long as they're on the market, I will continue to do so. <br />
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Chili Powder is always in our pantry. We use it as a base spice for many dishes. Yet in the winter it becomes essential. My husband makes a chili that will make you swoon. If a blizzard is in the forecast we don't stock up on bread and milk. Nope. We grab cans of beans, some vegetable juice, ground beef and spicy sausage. The forecast on TV may be for snow, but in our house it is for a large batch of chili served up with peanut butter sandwiches in front of a roaring fire. We will have leftovers for days and enough to freeze for weeknight meals, so going without the essential ingredient is unthinkable.<br />
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Finally the slipper to end all slippers. I've been wearing these slippers, <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/23777?feat=slipper-SR0&page=women-s-wicked-good-slippers" target="_blank">LL Bean's Wicked Good Slippers</a> since I was 14. In that time span I've gone through all of two pairs. Honestly, I would only have gone through one if I hadn't gone up a size after having our son. There isn't a better slipper on the market. I beg you to find me one. They are warm without making your feet all gross and sweaty. They are soft and delicious. (yes, I just called a slipper delicious, what of it?) If you live anywhere that has chilly to absolutely freezing mornings, I can't encourage you strongly enough to invest in a pair. Your feet will not regret it.<br />
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So that wraps it up readers-my list of essentials for this season. The I-can't-live-without-items when the snow sets in. Feel free to add yours. I am open for suggestions! And if you have<em> the perfect</em> lotion for me to keep the desert-dry skin at bay, by all means let me know! Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-55721903851916591102012-11-26T15:00:00.000-05:002012-11-26T15:00:04.449-05:00It's All Holiday Up In HereConfession. <br />
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I've been jamming to holiday tunes for a few weeks now. <br />
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Sorry I'm not sorry.<br />
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This girl right here loves her some holiday cheer. As in, wants to wrap her arms around it, deck the halls with it, tie jingle bells to her car, light the house, sprinkle holiday love all around loves the holiday season.<br />
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I am unashamed.<br />
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No, you won't find me baking up massive batches of cookies. (mostly because I hate baking cookies-they're so fussy) You won't find our calendar crowded and crossed with every community holiday event we can find. Our house doesn't turn itself into a holiday warehouse this time of year. I try to keep our gift-giving list short. I shop local and online (and will finish up most of our shopping later today!). <br />
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I will fill our house with good smells of meals we love and cook each year for the holidays. I carefully curate a list of gifts for our family and friends that doesn't include gift cards, but does include gifts I have sought out specifically for the people we love and adore. We have little traditions that have slowly become part of our lives-from buying new holiday ornaments each year for each other to making marshmallows for homemade hot cocoa on Christmas Eve. <br />
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What I love most about this time of year is the nesting my family begins to go through. By the time we reach the end of the holidays, we are prepared for the winter ahead. We are cozy and snuggly and warm. Winter winds can howl away. <br />
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So I'll happily sing my carols of joy. I'll wrap gifts as they arrive on my doorstep. I'll address cards to send to those far and near. And I will enjoy each day this season with those who fill our home. Happy holidays readers. May yours be filled with simple joys!Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-17377724090460617372012-11-13T12:30:00.000-05:002012-11-13T12:30:02.397-05:00An Interlude on TV DramasSo I've been sitting in my house since Saturday with a boy who is grumpy, whiny, and generally ill. Sick kids and me don't mix well. But on the bright side, I'm glad this isn't a week filled with holiday gatherings and family visits. (knock on wood) Rattling around the house and monotoning medication dosages gives me time to catch up on the good old DVR, and therefore I can share with you some of my new favorites. <br />
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The past few years I have been a sitcom kind of gal. I needed the levity in my life. That and there just weren't any dramas that held my attention. Grey's had gone off the rails long ago. Desperate Housewives had gotten a bit too desperate. I am a devotee to my Sunday night HBO, but this does not seem to fit into mass-market discussions, as it is truly a subscription service, so I save those episode post-mortems for my loving husband who watches with me. <br />
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Then some new shows rolled into my life. Specifically the following<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hawaii 5-O</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Revenge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scandal</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 'new' Dalas</td></tr>
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It all started with Hawaii 5-O last winter sometime. We got a beautiful new television in our finished basement and I caught an episode or two on the large screen. Holy HD loveliness. Those wide shots of the beach. The fast-paced chase scenes. It was eye-candy overload. Yes, the plotlines are predictable and tie up at the end in nice little bows. No, the acting will never win anyone an award. But it is fun to watch.<br />
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Then one night I was watching whatever it was I usually watch that came on before Revenge. And I didn't change the channel when Revenge started. It was one of those "catch-up" shows. You know, that show you everything you've missed? Well, I had been a hater of the cheesy commercials, and became a convert. Revenge is not afraid of its soapy plotlines and characters. I love that about it. Now I am a DVR devotee. Revenge is on my to-watch list for evenings I don't have a go-to show. And I avoid spoilers like the plague. <br />
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This past spring ABC piloted a show titled Scandal all about political intrigue and messes. I missed West Wing like crazy and thought this may be a weak filler for the giant hole it created in my TV life. Well, it may not fill the West Wing void, but it does inspire devotion from me. It is crazy fast-paced fun. I love the camera lens shutter scene transitions. The fast dialogue. The wardrobe. Oh that wardrobe of Olivia Pope. Yes, Scandal is one to watch!<br />
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Then the summer rolled around. The dearth of summer programming. And a gem popped up out of the desert. Dallas. I scoffed. I scowled. Then I sighed. Dallas is total fluff and fun. It is not currently running, but is slated to return this winter I have heard. If the summer run is any predictor of what is to come, hold on to your hats and boots...it will be loads of fun.<br />
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This fall I added ABC's Nashville to my line-up (because I didn't have enough to follow already). The music alone is enough to hook me in. But it has Connie Britton, Hayden Panettiere, and creepy Powers Boothe. I admit that the last few episodes Nashville has cast about a bit looking for some consistent storylines, but I have faith that the show will ground itself and take off. It is too good not to. <br />
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Then there is PBS. Yes, I said it. Good old Public Broadcast System. That of Sesame Street and Nature. The channel that brought us Reading Rainbow and News Hour with Jim Lehrer. If you have missed out on the phenomenon otherwise known as Downton Abbey, you have not lived. (okay, you may have lived, but your television life is a desert wasteland) Downton is soapy, beautiful, funny, and altogether delightful. Because it is a BBC production, it runs here on a delayed schedule. Season 3 has wrapped in the UK already, and our broadcast doesn't start until January. Sigh. I must wait for my Matthew and Mary fix. This fall I got a bit of historical hour drama fill from PBS via their new British import of Call the Midwife. Based on the book by the same name, it was a beautiful series. I am now halfway through the book and loving each page. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Downton Abbey Season 3</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Call the Midwife</td></tr>
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I've laid it bare-my obscene TV viewing habits. Or at least the ones I'm devoted to. I haven't included the reality shows I follow when I'm out of other dramas to invest my free time in. Or the Voice. I am missing this season because I simply don't have the time to keep up. But come next season I'm all in-Team Blake all the way! What are your favorites this fall? I know there are tons of good shows out there I'm missing out on. Homeland is one I am looking forward to snagging on DVD soon and watching all at once over a weekend. But there are others too, I'm certain. Fill me in! What are you loving right now? Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-78281450168178034662012-11-12T15:06:00.000-05:002012-11-12T15:06:18.178-05:00Thursday is the new Black. Come again?And now I must rant. <br />
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I love the holidays. I am totally and completely psyched for Thanksgiving. I already know what I'm wearing to both family celebrations to accommodate my growing girth based on the respective menus. My siblings and I have coordinated wine selections. My in-laws have decided on proper cocktails (as we have several who are allergic-tragically-to wine and beer). Post-Thanksgiving I am ready to deck the halls and trim our house to its rafters with Christmas cheer. I am formulating gift ideas already. I have a schedule for the holidays laid out, down to grocery shopping dates and when I can cook and freeze items for celebrations. <br />
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This girl is ready.<br />
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Then this morning, as I was readying myself to work, the crew on my favorite morning news show was talking about various retailers moving black Friday shopping to Thursday. Come again? Thursday? As in the Thanksgiving holiday? The day we all gather together and are thankful and full of food and family? Now we must depart from our celebrations early and shop? Oooooohhhhh am I ever mad. Angry doesn't even encompass how I feel about this. <br />
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At first I was angry about the retailers cutting into family time. Is nothing sacred? Must we have our meals early? Make Thanksgiving breakfast so the shopping can commence? Will it come to that? (I'm sure it will) I have visions of families across the country having their delicious meals, then eyes shifting and legs dancing under the tables as individuals become anxious to leave. Food barely digested. Drinks barely finished. Pumpkin pie untouched. This is not what the day is meant to be.<br />
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Then I really started to think about it. I used to work in retail as a college student and young teacher. I remember how early I had to report to work on black Friday and the day after Christmas. It was freezing cold and dark. And that was ages ago before people hit the stores before midnight. Now retailers are asking their employees to work ON Thanksgiving. And if the stores are opening at say, 7:00pm, the employees are having to arrive hours earlier to ready the establishment, therefore cutting short their day off entirely. And don't tell me this is a choice. For the vast majority of these employees, this job is their only source of income, and the employer demands all hands on deck for black Friday (Thursday). If you aren't there, you are without employment. <br />
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I have heard all the arguments-that those working should be happy they have a job. That others have to work on holidays (specifically health care workers, military, etc). That if you chose to work retail this is part of the gig. Yet I believe there are arguments to each point. While anyone who is working should be happy to do so, it should not be at the cost of family and happiness. Work is not the be all and end all. Nor does having a job and being an employee constitute slave labor/beck and call. Others do work on holidays, typically in jobs that don't answer to hours. Please don't equate our consumerism to lifegiving professions like nursing or lifesaving/guarding professions like what my stepson-in-law is doing with the US Navy. And while many do choose to work retail for a variety of reasons, some are working these jobs because there are no others to be found. They have become trapped into part-time labor positions that lead nowhere. So they don't have a choice. <br />
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It really boils down to a few simple things. We have gotten greedy. On both sides. We want to make money as fast as we can, and as much as we can. We also want to spend it on items we won't even remember come next holiday season. I don't believe money is evil. However, I see the greed eating away at so much. I try to enjoy the season to the fullest. I want <i>time</i> with my family. Time to enjoy their personalities that make me laugh. Time to fill their bellies with food I love to cook. Time to curl up on the couch with my dearest husband while the fire glows and the lights twinkle. I want to seek and find gifts that make me smile when I think of the person they will make a home with. Even if the gift isn't a 55 inch flat-screen television bought at midnight on black Friday at rock-bottom prices. Even if it is something small that was made in my kitchen. I made it (or found it) with thoughtfulness and love. And gave it with the same emotions. <br />
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I think it is time to re-assess. Think about the holidays and what they mean to you and yours. I'm not going down the religion path here. Just the idea that this time of year needs to be reigned in a little bit. Be kind to one another. Reach out to those you care for, and those you may not know who are struggling and in need. Make a commitment to do so throughout the year. And on Thanksgiving, stay home with your family so others may do the same.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-22784307298494559482012-11-06T08:58:00.000-05:002012-11-06T08:58:27.062-05:00Why I VoteI promise you a few things before I even go down the road of writing this post-I promise not to get political. I promise not to endorse (or bash) any one candidate or issue. I promise not to reveal my votes to you either. It's my personal private business, as one brat-packer said. <br />
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So, unless you've been under a rock, you will be quite aware that today is Election Day in the United States. And, I've already cast my vote. <br />
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I voted way early actually. A few weeks ago. But I am geeked out enough by hitting up the polls and getting my say in that I save the sticker to wear with pride all Election Day. Don't mock. I haven't missed an election since the presidential election of 1996. I was able to register to vote, my birthday falling a few days before the cut-off. I vote in major elections, minor elections, issues-only elections, and a combination of all the above. My voice has been heard as often as I can legally make it heard since I turned 18. </div>
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Voting is extremely important to me. I want it to be extremely important to <em>all</em> Americans. I want to see a sea of 'I voted' stickers surrounding me by the end of Election Day. Yes, I am passionate about my candidates and issues. But that does not mean I believe those who have opposing viewpoints should be silenced. This is what makes our nation so great. We are made up of a patchwork of citizenry. People who look at the world through lenses so varied, no two are alike. </div>
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I vote for the women who couldn't during the first 143 years of our nation's existence. I vote for those who fought in our military before they could cast a ballot. I vote for those who came to our country for a chance at a better life. I vote for those who live in a country where voting can be a life-threatening prospect. I vote for the strength of a democracy. I vote because I believe it is the most patriotic thing a citizen can do on Election Day. </div>
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This past Sunday, I caught the end of Bob Schieffer's Face the Nation and saw his commentary on voting. He succinctly states exactly why each citizen who is registered to vote, should turn out at the polls today. Hope to see all of your shining faces there! Happy Election Day to <em>all </em>Americans today. </div>
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<embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" background="#333333" flashvars="si=254&&contentValue=50134471&shareUrl=http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=50134471n" height="279" salign="lt" scale="noscale" src="http://cnettv.cnet.com/av/video/cbsnews/atlantis2/cbsnews_player_embed.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425"></embed><br />Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-59977788480833429182012-11-05T15:00:00.000-05:002012-11-05T15:00:03.041-05:00Holiday HazeYesterday I had to make a run to <a href="http://www.andersonsstore.com/" target="_blank">The Anderson's</a> (for those of you not from Toledo, it is a general store of goodness and light and lots of yummy things). I was on a mission to buy plant stakes and cookies. On my way back to the garden section I hit a detour. You see, their Christmas Tree section, filled with lights and music, had just been set up. The overhead lights were dimmed, Christmas carols played softly, and trees twirled on their bases. I slowed my pace a bit and felt my breath catch. Normally I boycott all things Christmas until after Thanksgiving. I am a Thanksgiving freak. I love the holiday of food and family. I love that I only have to cook and not shop and wrap and plan for weeks and weeks and weeks. Last year I wasn't feeling the whole Christmas thing for many reasons. We had a tough fall around here. Our son had his tonsils and adenoids out a few days before Christmas. I just felt overwhelmed and exhausted. But yesterday at The Anderson's...well...<br />
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I felt excited.<br />
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Somehow I am feeling my love for the Christmas holiday season creeping back into my soul. I am anxiously looking for reasons to drag out my snowman decor a few days early. I want to start to organize and stage my decorating day. I am ready to make lists for shopping. I want to get my cards ordered and envelopes addressed. I find myself thinking about how our house is going to look, all decorated and lit up. <br />
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I try not to put too many expectations on any holiday. I just want to enjoy the time with my family. But by my own nature, I start with anticipation, then excitement, then I explode enthusiasm all over the place. This can have disastrous consequences. So while I feel my holiday haze coming over me on this November 5, I will do my best to keep it in check. Not to take on too much. Be as low key as possible. <br />
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But I can't really help myself. I do love Christmas. So very much...Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123648638770271901.post-78423134877363191372012-10-25T15:00:00.000-04:002012-10-25T15:00:01.631-04:00MmfrgrggggYeah. That is the sound I make in the morning. Something like a growl and a moan and a sigh and sad resignation that I must leave my cozy cocoon of a bed and face the day. (side note: I do not typically make this sound on weekends, holidays, or days when I don't have to work) <br />
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This morning the alarm went off at 4:30 am. You read that correctly. 4:30 in the AM. Before the ass crack of dawn. I'm pretty certain it is before the dawn of man. Or something like that. I have to set my first alarm that early or when my second alarm goes off at 5:15 and I start to hit snooze I won't have begun the process of drifting out of the catatonic state I fondly call sleep. <br />
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When my alarm went off I had someone snuggled right up next to me. And I mean Right. Next. To. Me. Now, my brain does not fully function thoughts until I have been up and moving (and consumed coffee) for about an hour. So when this someone murmured into my ear "happy 10th anniversary of our first date" I was a little confused. Here I am all "mmmmfrrrgrrrrggggg awake no mmmmmfffrrrggggrrrggg" and he is all sweet and cuddly and loving me. <br />
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Needless to say, I failed at the "wish my spouse a happy first date anniversary first" thing this year. I didn't even get it in until over an hour later before I walked out the door. I think I actually fell back asleep after he said it. (I fail at mornings)<br />
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But, all that aside, it <em>is</em> the tenth anniversary of our first date. One zero. Ten. 10. In many ways it feels like yesterday and in many, many, many more it seems like a lifetime ago. Last year on this day I <a href="http://midwesternmodernmomma.blogspot.com/2011/10/3285.html" target="_blank">wrote a retrospective</a> about our time together. Today I feel fortunate to add another 365 days to our total. Another year of laughter, mornings, travels, dates, dinners at home, holidays, baseball games, moments small and large. From one date, a family has been made. Tonight we will celebrate our little family by going out on another date-all of us. And talk of the ten years yet to come.<br />
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I am one lucky lady. Even if I don't acknowledge it at 4:30 in the morning.Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14628993253461034287noreply@blogger.com