Midwest Girl, SoCal LIfe

Living in SoCal but hanging onto my Midwest roots, raising 2 kids with a firefighter and continually looking for the balance in life.

[midwestjamie]

A Letter for Sharon

Hi Mom,

I’m fairly certain the last time I wrote you a letter was from bootcamp in 1995. At that point in time, it was an actual handwritten letter. And while I know you were not a writer, (nor much of a speller ;-) ), you wrote me back every single time. Often telling me that you were worried about me and you missed me. I still have the letters.

I miss having you miss me, but I certainly hope you don’t worry anymore. I survived bootcamp and the many other adventures life has sent my way since then. A couple moves across the country, two kids, a sweet husband, college and jobs. Some of them you were there for, but many more you have missed.

This week kicked off with Mother’s Day, and today is the anniversary of when you left us. I have to admit, Mother’s Day is not for me. It’s not my day. It’s your day. As it approaches, I don’t think about the fact that people celebrate me as a mother and send me well wishes. Instead, I’m filled with the memory of the last time we talked. I called you to tell you happy Mother’s Day. You were tired. We didn’t talk long, I told you I loved you and you said the same. And that was it.

So every year when this week approaches, I just remember how much I miss you. I’ve been a mother for 16 years, and without you for 12. Every year, I would prefer to celebrate you as a mother and honestly forget that I should be celebrated too.

But we’re taking care of each other as best we can. Aunt Velda still has a place we all call home. It’s even new and improved and I can’t wait to see it this Christmas. Laura and her do all they can to take care of all of us. Laura almost never misses sending a birthday, Halloween, Mother’s Day, Christmas or Easter gift from her and Aunt Velda. Brandon still stops in at Aunt Velda’s for food every week while working jobs for his own business. Johnathan has moved to Indiana where he works as a firefighter. Don’t worry, he stays safe. He made sure to not jump into the Lake after the crazy lady that did. He’s even delivered a baby. Check him out!

Shawn is doing amazing things at the new therapy clinic she works for. She travels all around the country converting old clinics into the new clinic. I love that she’s getting out and seeing things that she’s never seen before. She’s making new friends and it has brought her here to Cali more times that I ever thought I’d see her in the last year. I’m so proud of her.

Everyone else is hanging in good health. Dad just moved back to Illinois to be closer to family. Uncle Wayne and Aunt Jeanine see Velda every Sunday for coffee. Andy still works for the Village of Plainfield and lives with his girlfriend Melanie (plus Brando and Rocko!). Rob and Stacee are doing well and she’s thriving after kicking cancers ass.

And for goodness sakes, Drew is driving! Lord help me. It terrifies me, but he’s an amazing young man and over 6 feet tall. Fairly certain he’ll pass Jason this year.

Jocelyn dances through life. Quite literally. She cannot brush her teeth or walk down a hallway without signing and dancing. It’s annoying as hell some days, but I love the ray of sunshine she brings every day.

Jason is still working as a firefighter...actually engineer after his promotion last year. He does an amazing job taking care of all of us. He makes sure we see the world and have great experiences. And he always makes sure my Mother’s Day is special.

For me though, Mother’s Day will always be yours. I will think of you and wish you were here for me to spoil with gifts. We miss you more than you know. We see the sunshine you bring to our days and know you’re watching all of us. Keep up the good work. 

I love you mom.

Jamie

[midwestjamie]

Surf Camp

This is it. Don't get scared now. It was two days ago when my surf instructor emailed me to inquire about my “surfing ability” and the type of waves I prefer. Pfft. “The kind that won’t kill me” is the only thing that went through my mind. This yoga and surf retreat is really happening. A few years ago, I stumbled on it in some outdoor magazine and couldn’t shake it from my mind. Since my first trip to SoCal when I was in junior high, I always had this desire to surf. I don’t need to be good, I just need to be able to do it. Alas, the surfing in Tucson isn’t fantastic, and it gets even worse in the Midwest. I have tried surfing whenever the opportunity presented itself, which has come down to 3 attempts. Total. In 1996, I got pummeled at Dog Beach when a guy down the hall from me in the barracks decided to take me. He handed me a board, told me to paddle. Lesson over. I washed ashore a little worse for wear, and never even got my feet on the board. Of course when my husband and I went to Maui for our honeymoon, it was the top of my list. One of my favorite days ever. They were baby waves in Lahaina that didn’t do much for the husband, but I was totally stoked (<= surf lingo) that I actually got up and road a wave. It was fantastic. This was 2005. With this one successful attempt under my belt, I was feeling fairly confident that I’d at least be able to get up on the board at Camp Surf in Imperial Beach last year. Well, what I learned 10 years prior didn’t really serve me well. I got pummeled yet again, drug along the bottom of the ocean, and can’t call it successful. But I wasn’t defeated. I haven’t shaken the fact that I still want to surf. I turn 40 in November and as any good/crazy/hanging-on-to-39 person would do, I started to get a little reminiscent of my childhood and wondering where the time has gone. At some point in the last 6 months, it dawned on me that this life is my only chance to do what I’ve always wanted to do. Yes, I will never be a dolphin trainer (cheers to big dreams!). But knowing this women’s retreat existed, it included my new found love of yoga, and I could actually learn to surf…I couldn’t get it out of my brain. After months of deliberating if I should go, who to go with, when to go, I eventually decided to do it and do it alone. The husband agreed it would be good for my soul and gave me the final push. While there are many friends and family that I would love to be on an adventure with, this one has to be mine, done my way, at my own pace. I am so excited. Plane leaves for Costa Rica tomorrow. What?! I’m traveling to a new foreign country by myself? Family PSA: Yes. Costa Rica is very safe and I’m totally fine with traveling alone. Thank you to my many trips to PDX and SFO that have built up my confidence in venturing out alone. I even know how train schedules work…and that being in the right station is key. Don’t ask how I know. I feel like a pro now and am only slightly worried about that puddle hopper plane to Tambor. One week to myself. Yoga in the morning, surfing lessons in the afternoon. A beautiful new place to explore and miles of gorgeous beaches. Most importantly, I’m looking forward to connecting with myself and following through on an old dream. I’m not super worried about turning 40. In fact, I’m happy that its lit a fire to get me thinking about old dreams, and given me the confidence to chase them. I’m cool with making it a year long celebration that starts tomorrow...Surf’s up!

[midwestjamie]

[midwestjamie]

Slow Down

I debated on whether or not to write this one for a while. Then I realized I was already starting to forget a message that was so clearly stamped in my head only a couple weeks ago. So let's back up to there.

I've become really good at making the commute from Yucaipa to Portland. So much so, that I can tell when a plane will be full, and will plan my seating accordingly when it's not. Essentially, I run on auto-pilot. A couple weeks ago, I was on a trip to Portland and it was late on a Tuesday night. This is a recipe for not having a full flight. I purposely sat further back, hoping that it would work to my advantage and no one would sit next to me. Of course, at the last minute, a gentlemen came down the aisle and of all the empty middle seats he had to choose from, he sat next to me. I was a bit annoyed by this and only briefly wondered if he picked the seat between two blondes on purpose:-)

I made sure to give him his space and went back to reading my magazine. We all ordered and I went back to reading. When the flight attendant comes back with our drinks, she hands me what's supposed to be my Diet Sprite. Just as I begin to take a sip, she tries to stop me and warn me that it was actually the club soda for the gentlemen next to me. And since it wasn't what I was expecting to drink, I started choking and coughing like a moron. I sat the drink down on my tray after I realized she wasn't going to take it. The gentlemen next to me sat there for a moment and then, after mumbling something about how my germs won't kill him, he reaches over and takes if off my tray. He added it to his cranberry juice and proceeded to drink his concoction.

Now, I was a bit surprised that someone would finish a drink from a stranger, but I let it go and went back to reading my magazine. Then a couple minutes later, I found my self engaged in a heartfelt conversation with a man that I was annoyed with only minutes earlier.

Out of the blue, he tells me that he was just diagnosed with cancer. Not just any cancer, but terminal cancer and he was only given 3-6 months to live. On top of that, he was just returning back to Seattle after flying to California to tell his daughters about his diagnosis. Gosh, how selfish was I being when I was silently annoyed because he sat next to me? How fortunate was I that I stopped and listened when he finally spoke up?

We talked about how scary it is for him to suddenly have this in front of him. The treatments ahead of him. How he found out about his diagnosis. What options does he consider and which ones does he forgo. In the remaining hour, I learned that he was most worried about his daughters. Only 15 and 21. He was hoping to maybe travel with them a bit while he still could. Buenos Aires and Acapulco were on his list. On one hand he was at piece with knowing it's out of his hands. On the other, he was scared.

What do you say to a man who's staring at the last few months of his life, trying to make plan? I mostly listened. We talked a bit about his belief in God and his Faith as a Christian. Now anyone who knows me, knows I'm not the best source of spiritual leadership. However, we managed anyway. I told him I would pray for him and his daughters. 

And what did he tell me? He told me not to stress too much. He told me not to put all my focus on work. To take the time to be with my kids. Truly present with them. His biggest regret was that he worked so hard all his life. Looking back now, he wishes he didn't put so much effort and energy into work and spent more of it on his family. His greatest pleasures in life, were the times he spent helping others.

What a gift to get to spend an hour talking to this man and listening to his thoughts and fears as he was embarking on the scariest journey of his life. I only wished I'd put the magazine down sooner. He was clearly ready to talk to someone and I'm sure he had much more to say. He was dissecting a whole lifetime.

I walked away from this, promising myself to listen to his advice. It's not new advice, but it's good advice. I'm guilty of getting caught up in the stressors of everyday life and work and I easily let time slip by. I do try to make a conscious effort to not let it all get to me, but inevitably I have my bad days (and weeks). And so I'm writing this to have a permanent reminder to slow down and take each day as it comes. I'm sharing this with you to encourage you to do the same. Heck, it's quite possible you may need to send this back to me to remind me when I get a bit lost in the everyday chaos.

Also, if you have it in your heart, maybe say a little prayer for Keith and his family. Pray that they are able to find the strength to handle what's ahead. Pray that they find quality time with each other. Maybe they'll even get to take that trip to Buenos Aires...

[midwestjamie]

The Pink Blankie

As I watched Jocie gracefully pile her pink blankie next to her step stool as she brushed her teeth, I couldn't help but wonder the stories this blankie would tell if it could. Not more than 30 seconds before the brushing of teeth, the blankie was a jump rope. It was twisted around her tiny hands as she whipped it around her body, excited and giddy that she was finally "jump roping".

Pink blankie has been here longer than her. As someone who was extremely fond of her yellow blankie (the same one that dad tried to throw away more than once), I spent quite a bit of time making this pink one for her. I remember picking the softest material, only to find it fray and create a shredded mess before I was able to sew the binding on. It was too big and heavy to put on her when we first brought her home. Yet somehow over time, it has become her best friend.

It was there the first time she rolled over. It kept her warm in the car on early morning trips to daycare (and 1st grade for that matter). But at some point, it became her companion. The one thing that was always by her side. Wrapped around her shoulders when she comes downstairs in the morning. Thrown up on when she's been sick. Her bonnet to make her look like an old lady. Her snuggle buddy in her stroller on cold nights.

It's been run-over, torn, stained and forgotten on a few occasions. But she's quick to remind us that the pink blankie is a must before she goes to sleep. It must be laid across her shoulders every night, with the soft side down. Don't make the mistake of putting the pilled side down, she'll be sure to correct you.

Whiled I'd hoped it would be a cherished object when I made it, I never imagined it would be her best friend. I only wish now that I could see what it sees. Be there when she prays. Share her good dreams. Comfort her during the bad. Wipe her tears when she cries. Be the first thing she reaches for in the morning and the last thing at night.

Pink blankie's had a great 7 years. I fear the meltdown when it finally gives way. At this point, I'm not sure if it will be her melt down when it's eventually unrepairable, or my meltdown when she actually sets it down for the last time. For the time being, I'll be less annoyed that it has to go everywhere she goes. I'll try to spend more time thinking of the places she'll go with that imagination of hers. I'll keep an eye out for a way to capture the memories it sees. Like the one of her just now asking me, "is it ok if I sleep with you just one more time?". After I tell her yes, she gives me the sweetest little kiss while her pink blankie is delicately draped over her arm to see it all.

[midwestjamie]

Going Home

I've lived in a handful of places throughout my life. Joliet, Tucson, Phoenix, San Diego, Portland (ME), Rancho Cucamonga, Yucaipa... Many of them on more than one occasion. However, I've always considered "home" to be Joliet. More specifically, Aunt Velda's house. Throughout my travels, it's the only consistent place I've been able to rely on. I know it will always be there and on more than one occasion, I've been welcomed back without question or hesitation. It will always be close to my heart because that is where my family is.

But there's one thing that I've learned during all these journeys. It's not always easy to go home. Sometimes, it's downright hard. And maybe it's not even when you try to return home, but more about when you try to return to a specific point in your life's timeline and pickup where you left off. When you're away for a while, you remember only the good things about being there. About what it was like in that moment. You don't dwell on the reasons that you went away. You also don't fully realize that as you've left and grown and changed, everyone else's lives have carried on as well. Some may have changed, some may be exactly same. Regardless, everyone's lives have taken separate journeys because that's what time and distance does to us.

For me, I've left one of these places and returned on more that one occasion, for a variety of reasons. Tucson, twice. San Diego, twice. Phoenix, twice. And Joliet at least 4 times. Some returns were joyful, others followed heartache. The one thing that was consistent, was that I had to start all over again. I would imagine in my head that I could pick up where I left off and was painfully reminded that things have changed. So I did what I always do. I hiked up my britches and plowed forward to make the most of the situation. Often surprising myself at how resilient I could be. Often making new friends, having new experiences and learning new things. Once again, I saw myself grow and change. However, I'm always aware in the back of my mind of the various relationships that have fallen to the wayside by time and distance. It's no one's fault. It just is what it is.

Now, my returns are for joyful, happy visits. They are to see family and friends that I have been able to keep in my life, even through time and distance. Everyone is still changing and growing and continuing on their own paths. In some cases, I was able to pick up where I left off with old friends. I was able to nap on Aunt Velda's couch and rest in the comfort of family. In other cases, I became aware of what's changed. I saw a picture that was a clear snapshot in time of a Christmas gathering with old friends. I remembered being there. I remembered what the conversations were like and how the house looked on Christmas. But I wasn't a part of the gathering this time and that's ok. It really is. It was a reminder that we're on different paths now.

Something became clear to me through all of this. Yucaipa, unlike any of the other places I've lived besides Joliet, is my home now. Not just in the literal sense, as this is where I live, but in my heart. It's where my family is. Where my kids have grown up.  Where I'm once again, making new friends and new memories. Even continuing on another new path as others have moved away. It's looking forward to see where we go from here instead of looking back to wonder what would have been. It's where I am now. It's my life and my home.  I'm happy here.

[midwestjamie]

Christmas-time chaos?

Ok, maybe life is just chaotic.  At least, that's what I've heard.  Just about the time when I think I'm insane for trying to wear multiple hats (wife, mother, career women, kid chauffeur, in-home tech-support, baker of the cookies...), I realize that most of us are multiple things to many people.  I've seen my friends and family sacrifice their time and energy to advocate for their schools, be Girl Scout troop leaders, surrogate mothers, walk for cancer,  fight fires (real and perceived)...  For me, they have been my strength on bad days, my encouragement to move my butt, caregivers for my children, my photographic inspiration, and most importantly, my reality check when it's so desperately needed.

And suddenly it's Christmas-time and the chaos seems to heighten.  But is it really Christmas chaos, or just a spotlight on the everyday chaos that we navigate through regularly?   Sometimes, it's seems we're so caught up in trying to capture the "Christmas Spirit" that the daily pressures are amplified.  Forget what we are physically doing.  The mental juggle of Christmas is overwhelming.  Are we celebrating the birth of Jesus?  Are we giving for the right reasons? Have we remembered all the people who should be on our list?  Did we donate to a charity?  Did we print 60 photo cards and get them sent?  Is the tree up? Do we need more lights?  Did we move the Elf??

To me, my initial thought is that only the first question matters.  That's what Christmas is all about.  Then I get to thinking more.  Why do we bother with the other questions?  So, I pondered a bit.  And here's my conclusion.  

The blessings from God in my life, including the birth of his son Jesus, are the reasons that I get to ask the other 7 questions (and many more that I didn't list).  It's because he's blessed me with a loving family, gracious friends, a home to cherish, the ability to donate... and so much more.

So, I consciously choose to swim in chaos on a regular basis because it allows me to give to those around me.  Sure, it overwhelms me at times and I often lose sight as to why I add so much pressure to myself.  But Christmas-time traditions help me remember why I do it.

What's at the top of my extra-things-to-do-list?  Baking of course.  Baking cookies and candy is one of my favorite things to do.  Both with my kids and those of friends.  It's one of the few times that I get to hand down something that my mother did with me every year.  The joy of watching the kids put on their aprons, get their hands in the flour, cut-out their shapes and throw on the sugar, reminds me that Christmas is near.  It allows me to enjoy and share the blessings that I have.

As for the cards and the Elf?  Well...somethings will fall through the cracks.  Only a few handmade cards were made this year before I petered out.  So, imagine you received a picture with a dog, two kids and a Santa.  And that darn Elf?  Well, he got "stuck" the other night and didn't make it back to the North Pole.  Oops.  Lazy Elf.  Tonight promises to be better.

And here's my unsolicited two-cents.  Do what makes you feel good at Christmas time.  Even if that's immersing yourself in pure chaos, shopping till you're blue in the face, or taking it easy and quietly celebrating.  Whatever it is, just stop to think about why and know, that there's no "wrong" way to celebrate Christmas.

[midwestjamie]

Parental Wisdom

We're about a week away from what would've been my mother's 64th birthday. And, as I normally start to think about her this time of year, it got me to thinking about the wisdom she imparted on us growing up. Some good. Some not so good.

The not so good. In approaching her with an ailment such as, "Mom, my throat hurts when I swallow" she would swiftly reply with, "Then don't swallow." Words that would frustrate me. But to this day, I find myself contemplating using the same reply with my kids. Because it's easier than the worry that comes with being a parent. I get it now.

The financial mistakes. It took me time to realize that just because the ATM says you have money, does not actually mean you have money. Glad I learned that one early.

But no matter what her advice was, it was always easier for her to say it than it was for me to follow. I find myself approaching this situation with my own kids in the near future. Hoping to guide them into making the right choices. Encourage them to not make some of the (very few;-)) bad decisions I had made. Career choices, relationship choices, financial decisions... We can talk until we're blue in the face, but in the end they will still make bad choices. This was never more apparent to me than it was when taking with a family member this week who's dealing with the consequences of a choice that they were clearly warned about.

So, I guess my hope for my own children would be that they are able to learn from the poor choices they make. Because no matter how much I try to put them on the right path, they will veer off. It's inevitable. I know I learned a lot from mine and it's made me who I am today.

Some good advice from mom. Always be polite, even to strangers. Use your manners. Lighten up on your kids, they're only kids. And always forgive. She was handed a lot of lemons during her time here, but she was always the first to forgive and move on. I hope to be that same example for my kids one day. Especially as they will never get to experience it from her themselves. Somehow, I hope they are able to see it through me the same way I saw it through her.

[midwestjamie]

Little Miss.  

[midwestjamie]

There's something about home...or Aunt Velda's house. 

[midwestjamie]

It's Fall. No, really. It is.

Last week, I spent a few days up in San Francisco where I proceeded to freeze my butt off.  I clearly wasn't as prepared as I should've been and didn't have the appropriate attire.  Living in SoCal for the last 8 years, you'd think I would've paid attention to the fact that it's a bit cooler about a half days drive North.  Considering I only briefly drove through San Fran once, about 8 years ago, I use this as my excuse.

But, I had a glimpse of Fall.  There were leaves on the ground, a crisp (very crisp) breeze in the air and the urge to trample through the leaves every time I looked at them.  I refrained from the trampling, but I didn't stop from reminiscing about Fall back home.

Football with family.  Homecoming parade in October.  Trick-or-treaters to follow.  Bonfires in November.  Getting ready for the holidays, one at a time.  And I'm sure it has a little to do with the fact that about 7 of my favorite birthdays happen between October and December...including mine.

Now last week, I did miss my SoCal sunshine.  I'm not gonna lie...I kinda whined a bit.  But this week, SoCal is just laughing at me.  103 degrees on October 1st is not my idea of Fall rolling in.  I get it.  Summer really didn't start until late July so I should expect it to last well into October...blah, blah, blah.  But this is ridiculous.  Now, Fall better get it's act together in the next 31 days because we have a camping trip in November in the desert.  Let's get these seasons straight already.

On a side note.  I'm sure I'll appreciate this about 4 months from now when my truck will start at the drop of a hat and I don't need to start it 15 minutes before I intend to use it...just to let it warm up.  At that point, all you peeps in IL are welcome to remind me that I was once complaining about having too much sunshine.  But for today, my SoCal Fall sucks.

[midwestjamie]

Words to live by.

[midwestjamie]

Making Lemonade

It's been a full year since a dear friend of mine said to me, "You're going to make lemonade.  You were given lemons, and I just know that you will make lemonade with them".  At the time, it was really hard to see how that was going to be possible when this ideal opportunity had just slipped through my hands.  Especially, when the circumstances were out of my control and in the hands of someone that didn't truly have my best interests in mind.  And while I believed I could make lemonade, the hardest thing was to see it in that moment when this rare opportunity had passed me by.

So, what have I learned in the last year?  Forgiveness.  Patience.  Faith that there's a plan and everything will work out the way it should.  They seem simple enough, but sometimes you have to experience tough things to be reminded of them.

I'm not saying it was an easy year, and there were times when I just couldn't see how things would work themselves out.  But a full year later, they have.

I learned that I'm pretty strong and I can make lemonade out of lemons, even the rotten ones.  I saw first hand that I have the most supportive and loving husband (who was willing to do just about anything to protect me).  I have an amazing group of friends that were there for me on good days and bad.  I reconnected with old friends, which was long overdue.  We shook off a few bad days with the help of Mickey.  My family offered the support they could, even from 2000 miles away.  I let go of my resentment and forgave those that I needed to.  Wholeheartedly.  

What have I gained?  A new job, new experiences, new friends (even if they are more talented than me), a closer family, and a renewed sense that I can really accomplish anything I put my mind too.  Sometimes, the trials in life are truly the blessings in disguise.

[midwestjamie]

Made with Paper

[midwestjamie]

Do you want the iPhone 5, honey?

So last week I was contemplating buying Jason a refurbished iPhone 4S while in Portland. He says to me, "How about you get the new iPhone 5 and I take your 4S.". Me, "Nah, I'm good. I don't need the new one." Today, I read that the new iPhone 5 will have a cooler camera. Jason, "You sure you don't want that iPhone 5?". Me, "Yes, please!" He puts me first. That's why I keep him around;-)

[midwestjamie]

Where's my talent?

So, I was finally inspired to start a blog today.  The final push came in the form of a reminder that I work amongst a bunch of overachievers.  Nothing new considering I've worked in some form of IT for the last 9 years.  Funny though, when being good at your job isn't enough.  You must also be an amateur photographer, play a musical instrument, read amazing novels, eat a Vegan diet, save the environment by biking to work (Oh, not by driving an F-150?), and write amazingly witty tweets and blogs.  To say I'm inspired on a daily basis is an understatement.  But how do they make it all look so easy?

So what's my hidden talent (besides being an overachiever at work)?  Multi-tasker. Exciting, right?  Not really, but I do relish all the small stuff.  I'm a mother of two, I work a full-time job, have a great marriage (to a firefighter whose gone 2-3 days a week) and I manage to keep them all fed on a daily basis.  (Hey, I didn't say I cooked what they ate everyday!).  Keeping my sanity is key, how on earth would I learn to play a violin on top of it all?  

So, I choose to not sweat the small stuff because growing up in the Midwest was about the Sandwich Fair in the Fall, stick-donuts on a Sunday morning and a bonfire in the back yard when there's enough leaves to burn.  Yup, that's my idea of a good weekend.  However, being in SoCal has presented challenges to enjoying these small pleasures, so we create new ones.  Swimming in the summer, camping with family and of course there's always Disneyland!  Let's see what this weekend will bring.  LA County Fair anyone?