Happenings

Last weekend my friend Heather came to visit me. We've been friends for almost six years, when she was my bright-eyed and helpful intern at Wake. We've forged a bestie-ship ever since and have driven back and forth across many miles for visits and catch up sessions. Recently, she moved to Nashville from Connecticut putting her back in road trip distance. She came over to meet the kiddo and we had a fun weekend of catching up on each other's lives, creating secret Pinterest boards, eating Camino pastries and turning our teeth purple with a few bottles of wine.





On Monday, I met my friend Megan - who I originally met over Twitter and who is from my husband's hometown - at Mellow Mushroom for lunch. She was in town to do some shopping and we had a chance to catch up and let our little boys get to know each other. Bo was quite taken with Henry, but I'm not sure the admiration was mutual.



On Thursday, I went and got my hairs did. If I somehow find myself in a situation with an excessive amount of discretionary income, I will go get my hair done on a near-weekly basis. (At least just shampoo and blow-dried.) It is probably one of my favorite experiences in life. Over the last year, I have been going darker and darker and have now officially crossed over into the world of brunettes.



My experience at the hair salon included a brush with fame. While she was putting color on my hair, my stylist happened to mention that a regular client of hers who is a NASCAR driver, was going to be coming in with a film crew to be taped having his hair cut as part of a "Day in the Life" documentary.

Well then.

(I honestly didn't know who this guy was except that he had happened to be on Duck Dynansty this morning. So there's that.)



I kept getting nervous he'd talk to me and I'd be that awkward person who said something really stupid on camera but luckily, the only time he talked to me the film crew had stepped away. I was still that totally awkward person who said something really stupid though.

This week, the kiddo has not been in a great mood. I'm wondering if there are pearly whites waiting to bust through his little gums. I guess that would make me rather pissy too. It's tough to see him in a bad mood, because he's usually such a pleasant little guy. This picture pains me - the little furrowed brow! Woe is me!



Being a baby seems like it's really hard sometimes.

On Friday, we had friends over for dinner. Matt made baby back ribs and I made Barefoot Contessa cosmopolitans. And some other food stuff, but the cosmos were really my pride and joy.



Yesterday, I went to Teri's house to trade life skills. I helped her organize her email inboxes and come up with some systems to manage incoming mail and she taught me how to blow-dry my hair holding a round brush. Pretty sure we both left each other's company feeling ready to take on the world anew. Clean inboxes and a good blow out are some pretty huge life skills.

Also, her dog usually shuns me because I almost always my own dog or tiny baby in tow. This time, we were best buds. Although this picture indicates otherwise.



Last night, we had dinner with my sister-in-law, her boyfriend and his kids at East Coast Wings. It occurred to me since Bo is sitting up on his own on the floor, that he could now up in a high chair. I plopped him in one and immediately felt tears come to my eyes to see how grown up he looked.

The same thing happened today when I realized he could hold his bottle on his own. I am pretty sure this is how people end up with a half a dozen kids when you mourn every stage of babyhood passing.



And the next thing I know, it's Sunday night again! These weeks really do go by so fast, and having our month carved out into every other week on/off work schedules makes the month fly by. I'm sure the ER work schedule would drive some people crazy - and granted, it's not the greatest at the holidays - but I really love our non-traditional schedule. It's so great to have him home on random weekdays and we try to make the most of his time off from work.

Money Talks. I Hate to Listen.

Let's talk about budgeting! This is exciting, yes?

The other day on my Twitter feed someone posted that one of her goals for the year was to work on her personal budget and wanted to know other people's tips for budgeting. I started to answer, but realized I had more than 140 characters worth of thoughts on the subject. (Me? Struggling with brevity? NEVER.)

Not to toot my own horn, but I happen to think I am pretty good at budgeting and I'm sort of fascinated by the psychology of money. Since I don't write about much besides babies babies babies these day I thought I'd capitalize on the fact that I was feeling inspired by this topic to share some thoughts.

First, some background. (See? Already any hope of brevity has been dashed.) My dad is a financial advisor, so money and budgeting is something that was always talked about in my family. It was never a taboo subject and my parents made a point to educate us on the topic. We received an allowance and had to split it between a savings account and spending it on stuff we wanted (budgeting 101!). I distinctly remember my shock when my Dad asked me to cough up some of my baby-sitting money at 18 to help fund an IRA. My thoughts on that today? Compounding interest for the win! 

I'm not exactly financially literate when it comes to things like reading a 401k benefits explanation (blerg) and words like dividends and market cap still feel very slippery to me. However, I think the fact that we talked about money in my family and I had a pretty early introduction to some basic concepts was a big boost to my confidence in handling money and budgeting. 

I don't have a business degree but I've got the basics down: I've avoided having consumer debt, I've got liquid savings and I can honestly say I have pretty great willpower when it comes to most impulse buys. (Let's not discuss the fact that we oh so in debt when it comes to our combined education loans... but we are aggressively chipping away at those bad boys. And they were worth it.) 

So, now that I've rambled a bit and bragged a bit, I thought I'd share some thoughts on how I handle budgeting.

First, the logistical part. I've used a tracking tool ever since I first started having my own expenses in college. First I just used a hand-written ledger, then an Excel spreadsheet, then Quicken and now, today Mint.com. Using a tool like this has always put it in black and white how much is coming in, how much is going out and most importantly, where it's going. This is very important when you love Starbucks as much as I do. 

Mint is totally brainless and I can't think of any reason to not use it. You link it to your financial accounts and it automatically updates. You may have to occasionally recategorize transactions but even that is a simple and fast step. You can pull up trends by month, 6 month or year time frame and see exactly what percentage of your spending goes to each category. You can also set budgets and get a text message or email when you've gone over. Bam. Brainless. This is a real life screenshot of my spending trends from last month from Mint.

The other thing I've done is taken savings out of my paycheck at the start of each month. I'm a firm believer that you'll make do with what you have each month and if the money is gone already, you likely won't miss it. (If you put in a liquid account, like an ING savings account, it can be easily accessed if you have an emergency.) When I had my first real paycheck job but was living the oh-so-expensive life in DC, I only put $25 a month away. Still, seeing that little egg grow each month made me happy - and I certainly didn't miss that $25. I never touched that emergency fund and to this day, continue to contribute to it.

However, I think tracking tools and auto deductions are just the tip of the iceberg. I see a strong parallel with financial tracking tools and weight loss tracking tools. Calorie counting has been my number one recommendation for weight loss for over a decade - but it rarely works as a stand alone. Even when we know what our budget is (calorie or money), a lot of decisions about where to spend it are not exactly logic-based. (Again, calories and money.)

Here's where I've had to do the most "work" around money and I'm hoping that what I share will be helpful. For years, I budgeted from a place of fear. I never carried debt and I saved like a squirrel, but all of my actions were rooted in fear of not having enough. I was so afraid of getting in over my head with debt that I swung the other way and I rarely allowed myself any indulgences. When I did spend money beyond what I had budgeted, I felt nauseous about it.

While I was meeting my primary goal of not getting in debt and saving extra, I never felt good about money. I constantly worried about it, beyond what was really necessary and reasonable. (Real talk: I basically did the exact same thing with calories for many years.) But a few years ago I decided I was sick and tired of being in knots when it come to spending money. So the first thing I did was try to work on having an mindset of "enough." When I would write a check for a bill or swipe my credit card at the grocery store, I would take a deep breath and say to myself "I have enough." I found this statement to be really calming for some reason, and slowly but surely the little tension knot I had in my stomach began to release when it came to handling money.

During this time, my money situation didn't change at all - just how I felt about money. During both my mindset of "scarcity" and my mindset of "enough," I had the same income, I continued to use tracking tools, I set aside savings and I never carried excess debt. The only thing that was significantly different was how I felt about money - but that alone was a HUGE deal to me. After a year or so of working on my mindset, I felt more generous and less stressed. I felt happy when I could buy a friend's glass of wine instead of stressing about it. I could drop money in the basket at church with a giving heart. I didn't panic and want to throw up when a car repair was a little more than I expected. That change alone was a big, big deal to me.

When I switched jobs from Wake to Aetna, my paycheck changed significantly. For the first time in my life, we actually had more than enough. It was kind of mind-boggling to me, to be honest. We increased our savings and chipped away a little more aggressively at our debt, but it was the first time in my life where I felt like I could just buy a pair of shoes I wanted or shop at Harris Teeter without coupons (gasp!) or buy the bottle of wine at dinner instead of the glass. It was the first time in my life where I ever had to really contend with impulse buys. Because really, that's what most of those things were. When I started to notice the pendulum was maybe starting to the swing the other way - in other words, when I had four or five items in a Boden cart and was about to hit "buy" without a second thought - I realized I had to do a little more work again around money.

I really don't like owning a lot of stuff and it didn't really jive with me to just be buying stuff because we had more money. I hate the feeling of an overcrowded closet, or looking in my make up bag and seeing 10 lipsticks I don't wear or having books sit on my shelf that I could get from the library. The act of overbuying didn't feel good to me - so I went back to my thoughts again. (I'm a life coach, yes I am.) This time instead of "I have enough," the thought that keeps me in check from impulse buys is "I am content." When I'm about to buy a shirt at Target just because it's cute, I stop and think to myself "I am content ... with the clothes I have." When I want to swing by and pick up lunch out somewhere because it's easier than making a sandwich at home, I think to myself "I am content...with the food I have at home." When I'm about to click "submit" on Amazon Prime for yet another baby item, I think to myself "I am content...with the outfit/toy/bottle/what-the-heck-is-this-thing that Bo already has." This has definitely helped as our money situation has changed again, and I've left my job at Aetna and we've become a one-income family and had to reign our extra spending.

I feel like right now I've find a good happy-medium with my money mindset. I'm never as stressed or as anxious about money as I was a few years ago, but I also quickly put my "ooh, so much extra!!" mindset in check after just a few months and with just a few extra pairs of shoes as collateral damage.  Today, I still clip coupons to grocery shop but I will pick up a friend's coffee with a happy heart. I still buy clothes or lipstick or lattes... I just wait a little longer and think a little harder before swiping the card. It's a good place to be and I'm kind of proud of what I've done to purposefully get here.

Our money situation will continue to grow and change as our family does and as we have to continually address new, complicated issues like saving for education. (Or praying someone will be a kicker and get a football scholarship!) While I know I'll always continue to use a lot of the tools that have helped me with budgeting throughout the years, I also know my mindset is the biggest tool I have in managing my money. I never felt like I had any control over my thoughts around money, but learning that I do AND that changing my thoughts changes my behaviors has been the best budgeting tool ever.

****

(Bonus points if you know what song my title is from. That lyric bopped in my head the whole time I wrote this!) 

The Best Season of My Life

At the beginning of this month, I quit my job. I wasn’t due back until November, but I knew in my heart I wasn’t going to return so I decided to cut my losses and let my office know so we could both move on. This didn’t come as a huge surprise to those who knew me best, but when it came right down to making that final phone call it turned out to be harder than I thought.

I wasn’t always sure I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. In fact, if you had asked me in college I would have assured you I would not be staying home. (I also expected to get married sometime around 30 – shows how good at predicting the future I am!) I always said I wanted to have the opportunity to choose and I’m blessed beyond belief that our circumstances did allow me that and that my husband supported my decision. Once I got pregnant, I was about 98% sure I’d be staying home… but there was still that 2% of me that wanted to leave the door open to make a choice. Which is how I found myself hanging on to my job even as my paid leave ended after 6 short weeks.

The 2% of me that wasn’t sure was having a hard time letting go of a thread of myself – my independent self, my bread-winning self, my “hey I went and got a Master’s degree, shouldn’t I be using it?” self. But these are mostly matters of pride. I knew in my heart I wanted to be home with Bo, and my reasons for returning to work were more about external judgments and perceptions than what I truly felt was right for me and for our family. When it came right down to it, my deciding factor was realizing that I’ll always have my education (or can get more), I’ll always have a passion or interest in my field (or another one) and there will always be potential to work. (Yes, I believe this is true even in our current employment state.) I’ll never, ever have the opportunity to witness first hand the daily growth of my firstborn child.

That’s not to say there’s a right or wrong answer to the decision to go back to work or stay home, and even my feelings on it weren’t black or white. If I had loved my job and going there each day provided me with a senses of fulfillment or leaving would have interrupted my ability to reach certain career goals, I think the decision would have been much harder. I still waver on the decision some days… but what affirms my decision is ultimately how happy I am. Right now, at this stage in my life, at home I feel content and blessed.

These last 11 weeks have been the best season of my life. And that says a lot – I’ve had a very happy and fulfilling life and have loved many stages of it. There’s also a lot that you give up the moment you become a mom and it’s hard sometimes to reconcile those losses. You give up feeling well-rested (will I ever, again?), the ability to just run to the gym or a coffee shop whenever you want, you give up your body, time spent with friends, large chunks of your bank account and a huge piece of your sanity that is now devoted to a section of thought called “incessant worrying that harm will come to your child and you won’t be able to stop it/fix it.” And despite the fact that every single mother I’ve met had told me being a mom would be the hardest thing I ever did but the best thing – I didn’t understand that until I spent a few weeks at home with my son.

And to be honest, it took a few weeks. The first couple weeks, Bo felt more like a baby bird to me than my own child. I felt like I was on a cycle of feed, entertain, then employ every available tactic I could think of to lull him back to sleep. But over the weeks, we found a rhythm together. The days (and nights!) become easier, he became more responsive (smiles!) and each day when I think I loved him the most I could yesterday, I find it’s grown a teensy bit more.

I just know there’s no place I’m supposed to be right now than safely guiding and teaching this child about his world. Teaching him to sleep (!!), how to lift his head, how to stick his tongue out. Teaching him that he is safe and secure and so loved. There is a quiet and gentle pace to our days together – something I know I will never have again and I’m cherishing now. The next time I have a newborn, there will be a busy toddler running around and I’m quite certain quiet and gentle will not describe the rhythm of our days.

With every big change in life, even good ones, there is loss. It was harder than I thought to say good-bye to my job (and my paycheck) and the freedom to work out at whatever time of day I wanted and the opportunity to blow dry my hair every day and sleeping in on Saturdays. It was hard, but it has been so, so worth it. I heard that so many times it began to feel like a cliché, but now I understand that sentiment inside and out.

This is indeed the best season of my life right now and I can’t imagine it being any other way now.

Life After College Doesn’t Have to Suck: A Book Review

I am the wrong person to write this review.  For starters, this book is written for college graduates (the soon-to-be, the just-last-week, and the-few-years-ago.)  Considering I recently felt morally obligated to stop using my student ID at Harris Teeter about 2 years ago, I think I am (sadly) out of the context of college graduate.

Secondly, I picked up Life After College Doesn’t Have the Suck mainly because I know the author and I was impressed one of my peers had done something I've always wanted to do (written and PUBLISHED a book), and wanted to see what it was all about.  This, of course, makes me moderately biased which I think is fair to state up front.  Nonetheless, my friend Jess asked me the other day if I wouldn’t get on Goodreads (because I fear getting sucked into another social media outlet), if I would at least blog from time to time when I read something I liked.  So here we are.

I downloaded it on a slow Saturday evening (see: definitely not a recent college graduate) and dove in, figuring I’d read a few chapters to get the gist of it.

I didn't go to bed until I had finished it that night.  I was sucked in immediately, drawn in by the outrageous chapter titles and the fast-clipped, in your face writing style.  I may not be the target audience for this book, but I was highlighting lines, nodding my head and literally stopped twice to text the author to tell him I was laughing out loud at certain points. 

Let's get down to it.  I want you to buy the book (and John Murdock, the author, does too) so I'll be sparse in my details about content.  The basic premise is that while it used to be a pretty safe bet that a 4-year degree was the all-express pass to The Perfect Job post college, the times they are a changing.  And yet… no one really seems to be passing that memo along to college students (and recent grads) until they get out in the "real world."  And when they get there, they are flailing and have no idea what to do.

I think this topic is incredibly relevant.  We're hearing more and more about the burgeoning student debt problem as it's taking college grads longer and longer to find employment, along with the rest of the country.  We’re still churning high school students out on to the conveyer belt to the 4 year liberal arts school with little to no warning that the next stop of the fulfilling, quickly obtained, lucrative career is becoming more and more elusive.

I love that this book is addressing this issue, but more importantly, I love the way Murdock addresses the issue.  He's pretty blunt.  I have to admit, I was taken aback at first.  I'm a long time reader of personal development blogs like White Hot Truth and The Happiness Project, and I'm much more accustomed to ingesting information in quirky, happy sound bites.  My initial gut reaction was to be put off by the shock-value tone. But there is enough humor after the initial blows to balm the wounds and keep the reader going. The more I got into the book, I realized that the HEY YOU! WAKE UP! tone is exactly what’s needed. It's a fine art to know when to wield tough love and I think he gets it right here.

I was also initially struck by the brevity of the book. The chapters are short, the points are made quickly and then it’s on to the next thing. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this delivery was actually perfected suited to the intended readership too. John's writing to the audience that is 100% accustomed to getting information in feeds, tweets and texts. Information is ingested quickly before moving on to the next salient point. If his goal was to capture the attention of the recent college grad, shake them by the shoulders, scare them a little bit, then reassure them it was going to be okay – if they were willing to make the effort to make it that way - he hit the nail on the head.

The book is timely and arrives on the cusp of a conversation about the unique problems the next generation of worker bees is facing. They're at the intersection of Steve Job's admonishment to "keep looking" and the economy's advice to "take whatever you can get."

My sense was the book is meant to be a catalyst. It's not a how to guide to find the perfect job after college, but he succinctly addresses the common pitfalls college grads are falling in to and outlines some basic ways to change course. It’s a must-read for any soon-to-be or recent college grads, but it’s also an interesting read for anyone who is participating in the conversation of what’s next for Gen Y in the workforce. If the reader finishes the book and feels like there IS a 3rd option between a soul-sucking corporate existence that pays the bills and bunking in Mom & Dad's basement until inheritance kicks in, then John has succeeded.

******

You can pick up the e-book here, read more on John’s blog here or follow The Young Professional on Twitter. 

And the necessary disclaimer: I was not paid to read or review the book.  All opinions are mine and all moola spent was mine.

30

I could not have had a better 30th birthday if I had planned it – and that was probably the best part of my day that we didn’t plan a thing.  Other than the fact that I had decided to take the day off from work when I saw that Matt wasn’t scheduled to work, I had no idea how we were going to spend my birthday.  We had bounced a few ideas off each other of some errands that we should get done since we were both off on a weekday (an exceedingly rare occurrence), but that was it.

We had a late brunch at Camino Bakery before heading out to run some errands.  Some were boring but necessary – like the bank and post office – and others were more enticing and fun like a trip to the Deacon shop (Buddy scored himself a new Wake Forest collar), a visit to Sephora to redeem my birthday perks postcard (free Sugar lipstick duo!), Plow & Hearth to pick out a wicker rocking chair my Mom had gifted me for our porch and a trip to Belk’s which finally ended my 6th month quest to find brown {not nude!} high heeled pumps.  (That could be a whole blog post in and of itself, but I will spare you.)  We wrapped up our day of errands by picking up Chick-Fil-A on the way home for a yummy lunch of waffles fries and chick nuggets and then I lazily spent the afternoon catching up on blogs on the porch while Matt did yard work.  (I might have done a load of laundry or two just to appease some of my guilt of watching him work while I lazed, but really… I took full advantage of it being a day off.)  We capped off the night with dinner on the patio at Forsyth and after a failed attempt to get pink lemonade cupcakes from Dewey’s, picked up some decaf frappuccinos from Starbucks on the way home for dessert.

It was an absolutely perfect day for me – a balance of feeling like I got some things done that had been hanging over my head but also indulgent and relaxing.  I felt so loved by all the phone calls, text messages and Facebook posts – holy cow, is there anything more ego inducing than Facebook on your birthday?  It was a peaceful & contented day, which is exactly how I feel about turning 30. 

My 20s were wonderful.  They were at times, especially the beginning of the decade, tumultuous and chaotic and full of a lot of life lessons but they were also happy, fulfilling and fun.  Each year has been better than the one before it and despite the fact that each year brings more cellulite and a decreasing ability to recover from a hangover, I have no qualms about aging and heading into the next chapter of my life.  Bring it on, 30’s.  Happy Birthday to me!

Mother’s Day

Not only did I get spoiled rotten at my baby shower this weekend, but I also had the pleasure of some extra hanging out time with two of my favorite women – my mom & my sis.  After the shower, we came back to my house to relax…

And to organize…. (Insert small panic attack because I don’t have a place to put all these goodies yet!)

And then we went to dinner at Mozelle’s Bistro.  It is one of my favorite places to eat in Winston & my sister had never been yet.  I didn’t make a reservation but we were fortunate enough to grab the last open table on the small front patio.  My mom had the tomato pie, which is usually my go to… she loved it but not the cheese grits that came with it.  Who doesn’t love cheese grits?  For shame!  Katie had the scallops plate which she loved and I did a 3-veggie plate with asparagus, collards and mac & cheese.  Their collards will make a grown man cry, y’all.  They are so, so good.

On Sunday morning (Mother’s Day!), we had a leisurely breakfast at Camino Bakery.

Scones and coffee, anyone?

And then Mom & Kates had to head back down to Charlotte to go the airport.  I just spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up and then went to my favorite Sunday night combo class of body pump/dance trance.   I was walking in the door of the gym when a teenage boy, holding the door open for me, looked at me and said “Happy Mother’s Day!”  I was so surprised for a second and then realized…

Oh yea, I am going to be a Mom!  Or I am a Mom.  Or something mind-boggling like that!

And not just to this guy, which of course I already counted….

(And yes he is wearing baby socks.  He has a bad habit of pacing around 5 am but he doesn’t really need to go out… but of course, since I am already practicing for motherhood I wake up at the first sound of him getting up and lay there in bed wondering if I should let him “walk it out” and put himself back to bed, or get up.)

Anyways!  Motherhood!  While it’s occurred to me that I am going to have a baby, it’s not really occurred to me that I am going to be someone’s mom.  Wow.  What a huge, life-altering change lies before me.  Katie and I always agree that we are blessed with the greatest mom ever.  I don’t know how we got so lucky, and how she makes it seem to easy to be a mom.  As kids, she had a perfect balance of being a loving, supporting presence but also inciting enough fear in us to make us stay in time out when told or clean our rooms when told.   As grown-ups, she gives us the perfect balance of friendship and support but also authority and expertise when we need to feel certain we’re cooking the pork tenderloin to perfection or handling the job interview the right way.  How do you hone that type of balance?  Is it just genetics or is my mom going to slip an owner’s manual to kiddo raising when I come home from the hospital to tell me how she did it all?

I sure hope it’s the latter, and if so – can I have that manual early so I can start studying now, Mom?

Happy Mother’s Day, to the best Mom ever.  If I can be half the mom you are to this little kiddo, I think I’ll be alright.  (But please know your number is on speed dial and I intend to use it often.)  We love you!

Basic Math

2 + 1 = 3.  Basic math.

So why do I have a feeling life is about to get more complicated?

Baby Cline, due mid-August! 

They Did.

Congratulations, Mr. & Mrs. Morris.  A beautiful bride, a handsome groom, happy family, cherished friends, clinking glasses….

And a rockin’ DJ.  Your life is off to a happily ever after start.

{Katie + Dylan – 06.18.11}

Just One Piece

Whenever I’m starting to feel overwhelmed or frustrated by work, all I have to do is catch sight of what’s hanging on my cubicle walls and I’m restored.  Seeing these two pictures reminds me that I have a great big beautiful life and work is just one small piece of that great puzzle.  It’s all about perspective.

Home

When my Grandma was in the nursing home, my Grandpa used to drive up to see her twice a day.  I imagine that he knew the route with his eyes closed and he counted off the hours in the day to first visit, then second visit.  We all worried about the toll it was taking on him - at this point, she was suffering from Alzheimer's and had various degrees of awareness of why she was there and not at home, or when she could go home, or even who he was.

Can you imagine visiting your wife twice a day and often having to tell her, twice a day, that no, I'm sorry... I can't take you home with me?

At one point, my mom asked my Grandpa if he wanted to go with her to Florida and take a break and go golfing.  She wanted him to have some "me-time", to do something he absolutely loved doing.  My Grandma was in good hands - my mom is one of 4, and everyone was ready to be all hands on deck.  I was in college when my mom told me this story and his response has been burned on my heart ever since.  She asked him to go to Florida, and he said:

"No, Shari, no thanks. I don't even want to go to Wal-mart if your mom can't go with me."

When my Grandma passed away in March of 2005, we all wondered how my Grandpa would fare.  He was healthy, independent, mobile and totally with it - not something all 84 years old can claim.  But we knew he would have traded all of that just to go home with Grandma.

My Grandpa stayed in good health for most of the last 6 years.  Until about 14 months ago, he still lived in his house, drove his car, and some days even still visited the nursing home my Grandma had spent her final years in.  It wasn’t until he had a heart attack in January of 2010 that he showed any signs of his physical body catching up to his calendar years.

On a Rochester-cold December day, in 2009, I met him for a breakfast date at Denny’s.  I had driven down to Geneseo to meet him, the half way point between my parent's house in Pittsford and his house in Fillmore.  He drank an endless cup of black coffee and ate half of an English muffin, I downed a diet coke and some scrambled eggs.

"How did you meet Grandma?" I asked.  I don’t remember what we had been talking about before then, but I wanted to ask that question and the moment was right. 

Quite some time passed while story after story fell out of his mouth and he alternated peering into his coffee cup or staring off into the distance - watching the movie unfold in his head as if it was yesterday, and giving me the play by play.  He told me how they met, about their courtship and of course, his proposal.  He shared stories of how once they were married, she was always late to meet him anywhere because she’d stop to talk to someone in the grocery store or church parking lot and lose track of time as she would slowly unfold a stranger’s life story.  “What took you so long?” he would ask her, knowing what the answer was. 

After about an hour, he realized where he was and looked at me with an almost bashful look to him.  "How did you get me talking about this?" he asked, a little embarrassed and a little bit wistful..  My heart was full with stories, and I knew I couldn't press my luck any farther so I just grinned and shrugged.  I tried to steal the check from him (he wouldn't let me) and hugged him hard in the parking lot and told him to drive the speed limit.

He chuckled to himself as he got in the car, which I knew meant he would not.

I have so many precious memories of my Grandpa, but this is the one that I have played over and over to myself in the last few days since my mom called me with the news.

I think of that wistful look he had in his eyes as he recounted to me seeing my Grandma for the first time  and I can only imagine that they're exchanging those glances again as if it was their first time seeing one another.  Their marriage was what every good marriage should be – a friendship, an equal partnership (a rarity in the 1950s), and genuine, sincere love for one another. 

I feel sad for myself, that I’ll never get to hug him and feel his scratchy beard on my check, or listen to a voice mail where he tells me to say hello to “that good Methodist boy you married” or see him flipping pancakes on the Coleman stove of their Airstream trailer.  I am sad that my brother won’t have anyone to give a carton of Whoppers to at Christmas for the first time in 33 years.  That my sister won’t get to have him proudly walk down the aisle at her wedding, shaking hands with people as if he was a celebrity. That he won’t see my 4 cousins graduate college, get married and turn into the amazing grown ups they are already becoming.  I am sad that my mom, her sister and her 2 brothers have lost their Dad, a sadness I can’t even really permit myself to imagine.

But after I wade through this sorrow, there’s an incredible sense of peace and overwhelming happiness because I know my Grandpa is exactly where he wants to be: home, with my Grandma. 

And imagine the first thing she will say to him is, “What took you so long?”

Grandpa { 2.18.21 – 5.17.11 }

{Christmas 2004 with Grandma & Grandpa}

There’s Your Trouble

I passed this car on the highway the other day.

No big deal right?  Just a boring old 1992 Black Chevy Blazer.

Except that… that’s my car.  My very first car.  The car I took my driver’s test in.  The car I passed my driver’s test in.  The car that I drove to my first real job, at Pontillos.  The car that I drove to my second real job (one week later) at GapKids.  (I didn’t last long in the pizza industry.)  The car I drove my best friends all around Pittsford, blasting Dixie Chicks’ “Wide Open Spaces” feeling as bad-a as can be.  (But driving the speed limit, Mom.  I promise.)  The car I had my first accident in – in my own driveway.  On the day of the PSATs.  The car that had a Smurfette sticker on the back window and a pink leopard print steering wheel cover.  (Yup.) 

All of a sudden, I get why the 50-something buys the 1970s pick-up truck or Ford mustang convertible.  It’s not that I want that car back again.  (Ok, I sorta do, I teeny tiny bit).  It’s just that something – experiencing, for the first time, the momentous emotions of independence, confidence and the world-is-my-oyster feelings that the first hunk of steel provides.  After a few years, driving is just driving.  You put the A/C on instead of rolling down the windows, and you set the cruise control instead of feeling the gas pedal rev under your foot.  You cease to appreciate the power of being able to go anywhere simply because of all the places you have to go.  Sigh.   Being 16 is wasted on 16 year olds. 

My Best Friend’s Baby

Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.  ~ Zelda Fitzgerald

****

Emily & Claire, 3 months old

PTSD: The All Night Study Room and Other Horrors of Procrastination

I’m having grad school flashbacks.

And not flashbacks to the fun things, like Orioles games and goofing off in Biostats and “Public Health Happy Hour” at MaGerks. 

Nope, I’m having flashbacks to the absolute worst part of grad school: THESIS WRITING.

I have had 3 HUGE projects sitting on my to do list for way, way, way too long.  They are:

1) Finishing editing the book on emotional eating I’ve been working on for-freaking-ever, including somehow adding about 5,000 extra words.  Yup. 

2) Write new website copy, because I have an amazing graphic designer friend who has been tinkering with my megcline.com blog for months now and is ready to release it as a business-only blog (bye bye, personal life entries)… as soon as my butt gets around to writing important content like: WHAT I DO and WHO I AM.  Apparently essential topics for a business website. 

3) Create a talk for a “launch party” for BetterNumbers that’s in 2 months.  This talk will be given to a bunch of personal trainers who I need to impress with the myriad of ways that BetterNumbers can improve their clients results and their business.  In other words: it should probably be awesome.

The first task has been on my to do list since… wait for… October.  The second one since early January, and the third one for about 3 weeks.  The problem has been all three required a big chunk of time, and I just hadn’t sat down and carved one (much less three) out yet.

I was also procrastinating them because, frankly, I don’t really want to do them.  I love writing, but I am not so keen on editing.  (It’s usually after I hit publish on a blog post that I notice errors or think of better ways to say something.)  As for the website, I feel awkward writing about myself or about what I do, even though I’m working on getting over that.  And while I love giving talks, the actual powerpoint creation… ehhh, not so much.  But while I’m not super psyched about these tasks, I really want the end results of them (book finished, website done, talk given) so on my to do list they’ve remained.

This weekend has been my perfect, no-excuse, git ‘er done weekend.  Matt is working nights in the PICU (7pm-7a) which means he’s sleeping during the day.  I had a 3 day weekend with no commitments.  Our weekends are about to get fast and furious with beach trips, and bachlorette parties, wedding festivities etc, and such so I knew the time was now.

Which is how I found myself in the WFU library at 2 pm on a Saturday afternoon, ear buds in, latte in hand, begrudgingly plugging away at my edits.  I’d love to say that as of 10 pm on Saturday while I write this I am stick-a-fork-in-me-DONE… but I’m not.  I did though, get the hardest one done.  I spent a few hours at Starbucks on Friday, a few hours at the library this morning and I’ve been sitting in the same spot at my kitchen table since 4 pm today… and I think I can say I’m finally done editing.  I’m going to do a final read through tomorrow, and then it’s in the hands of a friend of mine who works as an editor in real life for some legit red pen fun.  (I am terrified.) 

I love writing (see: rambling blog posts) and working on this book has been a labor of love over the past 2 years… but I cannot say that I enjoyed the editing part.  Sitting at my desk (kitchen table) and forcing myself to finish something even on a self-afflicted deadline flashes me straight back to thesis writing and writing paper after paper after paper in undergrad.  Most traumatic experience: the time I put off writing my 10 page final paper for History for Dance until the day before it was due.  I stayed up all night in what we referred to as the “no friends room*” in the library, went for a run at 5 am to keep myself awake, and finished the paper about 30 minutes before my 10 am class.

(I got an A.)

(That really did not help teach me anything about procrastination did it?)

So in 2 days, I got 1 of my 3 tasks done.  I definitely was not as focused as I could have been (thank HEAVENS that Twitter, Facebook and iPhones did not exist when I was in college) but I also am working with self-imposed deadlines.  The only person who knows and suffers if I don’t get these tasks done is…. me.

Is it realistic to think I’ll get my other two tasks done tomorrow?  Sigh, I don’t know.  I sort of know this will be one of the last uninterrupted weekends we’ll have for awhile and it would behoove me to be a writing machine tomorrow.  Wish me luck.  I can promise you this though: if it’s not done before 10 pm, it’s not getting done.  I have learned a few things in my wiser, older years.

**The room we used to call the “no friends room” in the library had orange shag carpeting, a peg board wall and study carrols.  It was open all night.  Today?  It’s a 2-story Starbucks with plush leather seats and huge tables and Siriux XM 24 playing.  WFU Kids of 2011, you are SPOILED ROTTEN. 

Shower the People You Love With Love

Yesterday was my little sister’s first wedding shower.

(For the record, it’s not really sinking in that my baby sister is getting married in just 97 days…)

The shower was hosted by Katie’s two college roommates, Meredith & KP, and her 2 closest friends from teaching, Drew and Shannon. Drew’s sister-in-law, Jackie, has a party planning business and coordinated all the amazingly cute details of the shower. I kept walking around ooh-ing and ahh-ing because every corner of the house had something adorable related to the theme of the shower.

After a delicious brunch, we did what you of course do at showers: watched the bride open gifts, and slowly see the pieces of the bride & groom's future home come together. Despite the fact that I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around baby girl being grown up enough to get married, her excitement level over things like spice racks and pyrex dishes confirms that maybe she is indeed ready to be a Mrs.

Self timer coffee makers: the stuff dreams are made of.

I do believe our bridey had fun at her shower, and can now officially say her wedding season has kicked off. Katie’s friends did an incredible job putting her shower together, and it makes me happy to know she has such sweet and loving friends to support her. Because that’s almost as important as having the right silverware when it comes to the things you need to start off a marriage on the right foot.

Katie with 2 of her shower hostesses/bridesmaids/Wake roomies Meredith & KP