Free at last

So, last night I went to see the high school performance of Grease. It was wonderful! Of course, I am a wee bit biased, because my daughter is in the play. So, I want to brag on her a bit.

Way to go Becky! I am so proud of you! Why? There are a million reasons...but I'll try to focus and keep this succinct. You have broken the chains that BIND the women of our family. We, the women of our family, are strong behind the scenes, but we have no confidence at all when it comes to standing in the spotlight....even a small spotlight. In other words, we like to be behind the camera...but we feel we have NOTHING to offer in front of the camera. This comes from the fact that we think we are not intelligent enough, or pretty enough, or funny enough. We truly believe we have nothing to offer...so we are content to sit in the audience and applaud as others shine. BUT you have stopped that....last night you stood on the stage, with the spotlight on you and you shined! Way to go girl! I am so proud.

I heard the chains break and fall to the ground...and I knew at that moment, that the women in our family will be a force to be reckoned with in the future. Which is how life should be....each of us laying a foundation that the next generation can build on....my parents did this for me....and I am HOPEFULLY doing this for my children, and so on and so on.

So here's to you Becky! Thank you for bravely breaking out of the shackles and chains that have bound us! Free at last!

All My Heart

So, I am standing in the kitchen last night cooking some late night pancakes for my kids. They begged me to cook them some because according to them, "We have NO food in our house."

Can I complain for one quick moment? They love pancakes....but NOT mine....they LOVE my dad's. They call them Papa's Pancakes....so whenever they get in the mood for pancakes they beg me and beg me and beg me to make them...and then when I do they spend the rest of the night complaining how I make gross pancakes that taste nothing like papa's. I love it. So, what do I do to my pancakes to make them "gross," well....sin of all sins....I make LIGHT AND FLUFFY pancakes. My kids hate them....my dad, papa, fries his pancakes in an inch of oil and therefore they are HEAVY and crunchy. Who knew pancakes were supposed to be oil laden.

So, I was in the kitchen trying to oil soak my pancakes and in walks Becky. David is right behind her...seeing if the pancakes are light and fluffy. Becky says, "Mom do you love me?" I say, "Yes Becky. You know that I do." She then says, "Mom, do you love me with ALL of your heart?" I, while flipping a pancake, say, "Yes Becky. You know that I do." She then turns to David and says proudly, "David, did you hear that? Mom loves me with ALL her heart, which means there is no room in her heart for you. Sorry!"

She's rotten.

Happy 18th Edwina!

So, tonight as I prepare for bed.....I remember 18 years ago this very night, it was April 18, 1991, I was 28 years old. I WAS VERY PREGNANT! I was actually two weeks overdue. My little girl, we called her Edwina just to push buttons, was supposed to come out on April 5th, but she was not in any big hurry to make her grand entrance.

I had put the doctor off as long as I could...he had wanted to induce labor two weeks prior, but I kept insisting that she would come out on her own. I had been told that walking would help induce labor, so I walked every day. As a matter of fact, I had taken a very LONG walk 18 years ago today. My mom had driven from Ohio to Washington, DC to be there for the birth. We went for a long walk together trying to get this little girl to come out before induction...no luck. I went to bed that night with bag packed and alarm set. We had to be at the hospital at 6:00am.

So, the alarm went off and we all left for the hospital. At 8:00am they hooked me up to pitocin to induce labor. It worked, labor pains started immediately. Then they broke my water...wow....labor intensified. I then got an epidural, WONDERFUL! I was able to visit with my mom briefly and then take a quick nap. At 1:00 pm they said I was ready to begin pushing...at 2:32 I pushed out our little girl. Her name was Katharine Leigh Hogan, not Edwina. She was 21 inches long and weighed 8 lbs and 6 oz. She scored an 8 on apgar. When they held her up.....I saw lots of hair and a GIANT pouty bottom lip. She let out a giant scream.....and I began to weep....tears of joy.

The day was a whirlwind of emotions and events. We never had any moments alone. I was so weiry by the end of the day. They took Katie away around midnight. I went to sleep.

At 3:30 am they entered the room, a nurse pushing Katie in her bassenet. I watched her wheel Katie into my room. Katie's little eyes were wide open and looking all around the room. It seemed she was searching for something. I waited in bed. The nurse picked Katie up and handed her to me. Her searching ended....our eyes met for the very first time. I feel head-over-heels in love with her at that very moment.

We spent the next hour all alone...a precious hour that we shared.

Now, 18 years later....and our precious moments alone are about to end...she is getting ready to head off to college....no more late night hours alone, just she and me. My little girl has turned into a fine young woman....just as it should be.

I will miss you Katie....but I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING YOU!

Happy birthday Edwina!

A Day

So, have you ever just had a day...I mean a day. You know, the kind where nothing goes right. Well, I had one today. I think the best way to give you a picture of my day would be to share one small incident from it....then you can extrapolate what the rest of the day must have looked like from that.

So, I'm at work...yes....I am fundraising....and I am fundraising in an economic recession borderline depression....how fun is my day?

Well, I have to go to the bathroom....so I wander down the hall to the old, dark fourth floor ladies room. I put down the safe layer of toilet paper on the seat and I sit down. Ahhhhhhhhh......

Suddenly, I see a wasp come flying down from the ceiling aimed right for me....he buzzes me and I have NO idea where he has gone....but I must admit...I am totally exposed and therefore, very nervous. So I grab my shirt with my right hand to pull it up so I can see where the little bugger has gone...and alas, I find him. I had put my hand right on him. He had landed on my shirt. So, the little bugger stings my right hand and I yelp. Then I throw him down and step on him. Now my right hand (I just so happen to be right handed) is stinging like crazy and it is beginning to swell. I am done with my business....but my right hand is out of commission as far as wiping up...so I swear and try to do it with my left hand. Not fun!

I finish up and decide to leave the dead carcass there on the floor as a warning to all his family...do NOT mess with me in the bathroom stall.

What a day!

The Other Friend

So, tonight my small group dinner got canceled, which was fine...so I had the evening open. My son was at a soccer game, my younger daughter was at her opening night of her school play, and my oldest, Katie, was home. She heard me canceling the reservations, so she hollered out, "Let's go eat mexican." These are my last few months with her before she heads off to college, so I am going to savor every moment that I can get with her...I say, "Okay. Let's go."

She picks the restaurant, turns out it is the same mexican restaurant that I went to today at lunch.

Almost every week, my friend and co-worker go to this mexican restaurant. We order 2 waters with lemon, one chicken fajita with no rice, just beans and two tortilla wraps (we split the lunch fajita to save money). We almost ALWAYS have the same waiter...and he knows us and our order well by now.

Anyhow, Katie and I go into this restaurant and we get my waiter....he smiles at me, a funny smile. Katie and I order 2 waters with lemon, one chicken fajita with rice and beans, and one extra order of rice, and two tortilla wraps. Our waiter smiles again.

Katie and I are eating and talking and laughing. She is telling me of her funny evening the other night when she went out with her friend, Steph. They had gone out to dinner together. When Katie went to pay, the cashier asked her who's card this was. Katie said she had a slight brain fart and hesitated in her answer...then she finally stammered out, "It's my friends."

Katie then busted out laughing as she stated, "Mom, I know that this cashier thought that I stammered because I was a lesbian and didn't know what to call my girlfriend." We laughed and talked about how hard it is for two friends to just go out anymore without someone thinking a little something-something is going on.

So, we finish eating and Katie goes to the bathroom and our waiter brings me the check. He smiles at me and says, "Where is your other friend?" Because of the story that Katie just shared, I realize what the smile he has going means....he thinks that my "other" friend and I are lesbians....and he probably thinks I'm two-timing on her with this young thing. So, I immediately stammer out, "No....my other friend is just a co-worker friend....this is my daughter....I have a family!" He smiles.

Katie comes back and we go to the cashier to check out. My waiter walks up to us again, smiling, and says, "So, tomorrow you come back with your other friend?" I say, "No, I think I've had my fill of mexican for this week."

When we get outside Katie asked what that was about....as I told her she lets out a GIANT scream...."Oh man....he thought you were two timing your other friend with me, didn't he?"

We laugh....and laugh.....and laugh.

I guess I need to start doing what another friend of mine does whenever we go out to dinner....she proudly states, "A table for two please, but WE ARE NOT LESBIAN LOVERS."

Which seat will you be in?

So, today I am at work...I happen to work at a religious institution...all of us working to advance the Kingdom of God...or at least that's what we are supposed to be doing. I have to be honest, sometimes, it sure doesn't seem that way. Sometimes, when I see the politics and backstabbing and maneuvering and empire building, I wonder what God must think of us. Sometimes, when I look around the workplace, I just see people scurrying to "sit next to Jesus."

When I read Luke 22, the scene of the last supper, and it talks about a dispute breaking out among the disciples as to which of them was considered to be the greatest....I picture the disciples trying to determine the seating arrangement at the table...you know, who will get those honored seats right next to Jesus and who will rank in the seats next to that and so forth, until you get to the last seat at the table, the furthest one from Jesus....and that being the place for the lowliest disciple.

That's what I see everyday at work...a bunch of people clamoring to "sit in the honored seats."

So, today, I am at work and I'm not feeling well, I mean a really bad upset stomach, churning and growling...got the picture? I have to go to the bathroom, and badly. So, I run into a stall and go...I flush and the toilet is clogged...not because of me, but the previous person. So, now I have made a total mess in this toilet and I can't get it to go down. There is no plunger in the bathroom, so I have to go to Bobbye, the cleaning lady for our building. I find her and I ask her for a plunger for the toilet that is clogged...she looks me right in the eye and smiles at me and say, "Honey, I'll go take care of it." I plead with her to let me do it because I have made this mess and I can not ask her to clean up after me. She smiles and says, "Honey, I don't mind. That's my job."

Okay...so as all of us so called 'leaders' clamor to show our new president how wonderful we are, and what important jobs we have and how well we do them....as we parade around in our flowing robes....as we send out a gazillion emails to our new president to show him the impressive work that we are doing....there is Bobbye....she silently and with a smile on her face, pushes her cleaning cart to the third floor to unclog and clean a toilet. She doesn't complain....she doesn't fuss...there is no fan-fare when she is done....if our institution were having the last supper....she wouldn't even be asked to sit at the table, not even in the last seat...

So, my prayer today, as I left Bobbye pushing her cart to clean up my mess..."Lord, when we get to heaven, please reserve a seat for Bobbye right next to you!"

My Journey to Joy

So, I have been struggling with the word "journey" lately. I'm quite certain that I don't like that word. Why? Because of all that journey implies? For me it implies so much...

First off it sounds so long. It sounds like a very long drive to a far away destination...I don't like the length of the word.

Because it sounds like a VERY long drive I know that I need to prepare and that bothers me...see here's the thing....growing up, whenever we did a family trip....you HAD to prepare for days....I mean DAYS. There were so many things to prepare for: weather, clothing, food, travel time, relaxation time. See you always have to be prepared for any and all situations. So, you must plan for all weather emergencies...which means that you have to be ready for snow, ice, sun, warmth, cooler weather, frost...you name it, you had to be ready for it. You also had to have the right clothes for all situations: heavy farm work, swimming, sledding, going to church, etc.

Now because of how long this trip is....you have to be prepared food-wise. See you must have lots of foods in the car for the journey. You have to have bread of some sorts and meat, so you must have a cooler...you must have chips.....and grapes.....and carrots....and fried pig skins.....and candy...and gum (the cheap stuff)...and water.

You must also have blankets and pillows and you must figure out some way to rig up something in the automobile that you are taking so that everyone can sleep while the driver is driving.

See....this whole journey thing takes a lot of preparation.

Also, this word journey implies a far away destination....but it does not imply a nice destination...see growing up when we planned a trip, a journey, it was never TO a destination...it was and is ALWAYS TO SOME FAMILY MEMBER'S HOUSE. My mother is Italian...and family is everything. So, when we planned a month long vacation in the summer of my 13th year....it was a giant loop through the USA to see family.

So...I have been struggling with my "journey" to joy because I am struggling with the word journey and all the baggage that is associated with it. I told a friend that I was banning the word "journey" from my vocabulary....I told her that I was going to call it "A Quick Drive to Joy" - but here's the thing....can I find joy on a quick drive? Are the things that make me despise that word also the things that keep me from finding joy?

So...where am I in my journey or whatever I am going to call this? Well, as you can see...I am not even packed.