suburban chaos

Is this really me?

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 20:36:00 +0000

I step up to the start line feeling like an imposter, a fraud of sorts.
As I am turning the corner towards my final mile I can hear my labored breathing. It is playing in my head like a scratched CD, skipping over and over again in repetition. I hate it. This is not music to my ears. I turn on my ipod and hope to drown it out through the thumping of some old school Rob Base. It works........
I am acutely aware of how hard my body is working to finish this race. It certainly isn't the longest distance that a 39 year old woman in relatively decent shape has attempted. But it is a big challenge for me.
The messages we send to ourselves through self talk are quite astounding really. Everything from the very negative, "Why did I sign up to do this?" "Did I really think I can finish this without stopping?" To the most uplifting-"YOU.CAN.DO.THIS!"

Salty sweat is beading down my face and pooling in my eyes as I try to see if I can spot the finish line ahead of me. Nope, not yet. Crap.
I notice a woman with a baby jog stroller running with twins in tow, passing to my right. My most competitive drive kicks in and I speed up...no way in hell I will let her pass me. I smile at the early finishers as they root us all on and wonder "Just how slow do they think I am?!" I make a nice friend as we climb the final hill together. "YOU CAN DO IT!" She screams to me, and I return the "thumbs up" gesture.

I see flashing lights and screaming people up ahead.....finally, the finish line in sight. I am fantasizing about pancakes, eggs and a huge cup of coffee....not exactly fare for the athlete in training.
As I cross the finish I hear the "beep" recording my time. I look up at the time clock, sweaty beyond belief, my heart pounding. "Decent." I think. "Respectable." I tell myself.

My first 10K.

I turn to grab a bottle of water and pause.

"Is this really me?" I asked. "Am I actually a runner?"

As I sit with my friends digging into my huge breakfast I suddenly feel proud.

And for today....... I know the answer to my question.

Mother's Day 2008

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sat, 10 May 2008 12:53:00 +0000

Another Mother's Day.

The hole that a loss of a loved one leaves in your heart forever changes you. Not one day goes by that I don't hear my mom's voice in my head, and think of her. Sometimes, I imagine that she is watching me, observing my daily interactions and guiding me through them. Some call it hope or faith. Maybe it is just wishful thinking. Either way, it gives me peace on those days when her absence is particularly difficult.
Life has definitely moved forward. The kids have grown so much that I often think she would barely recognize them. I have embarked on endeavors that she never even knew I was considering, and things have taken place she never even dreamed would be part of our lives.
I often wonder if I will ever stop keeping track of all those things she has missed. Will I think of her at my daughter's wedding, at high school graduations, or bar and bat mitzvahs? Will I still be keeping track of the missed events in 20, 30 or even 40 years?

I have found an inner strength that I never knew I had over the last year and half. Losing a parent forces you to grow in ways you can't imagine. It sheds perspective on your life and allows you prioritize your life with no apologies.

Tomorrow I will honor my mom in my own small way. A trip to the cemetery....and a long, private conversation with her in my mind. I will tell her that I love her. That I miss her. That it is because of her that I am the mother I am today.

I will then rejoice in the day. And celebrate the greatest gifts in my life. My children.

Happy Mother's Day 2008.

Girls night out

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sat, 03 May 2008 20:59:00 +0000

Gotta love the girl's night out.
I try to put them on the schedule as often as I can...and usually get one or two a month. I am embarrassed to admit that I look forward to these nights even more than date night with my husband.
Bonding with the girls over beverages and good food is good for the soul. My husband doesn't need the guy time like I need my girl time. Thankfully he doesn't begrudge me for it, though he does chuckle at how excited I get at the notion of getting out of my "mom gear" and dressing like a real woman.

Girls need their girlfriends.

We need support.
We need gossip between friends.
We need to commiserate with one another over happenings at the preschool, the gym, the P.T.A. meetings. work and at home. We need to feel understood.
We need attention in a way that you only get when you are dressed and out with the girls.
We need Chinese food, Mexican food, salads and sweet wine. (food my husband rarely will suggest).

And most of all.....we need a big fat dessert or two...with four or five spoons and no guilt to make the night a complete success.

My next girls night is coming up on Monday. I can hardly wait. Hope yours is on your calendar soon.

Just who is running the show?

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 12:15:00 +0000

Anyone parenting in this day in age can't help but notice that the standards for acceptable parenting differ greatly from those that are parents followed. As my kids get older I notice many things that are very different from my own childhood. Some good, some...not so good.

Kids don't respect adults.
I include my own kids in this statement. Talking back in any way to an adult was completely inappropriate and rarely if ever tolerated. If you talked back or called an adult by their first name it was grounds for punishment in our house...and I am not talking about a "Time Out".
We feared adults. The lines were clear. They were in charge. We were not. End of story. Kids nowadays look at adults like bigger versions of their peers. We stand taller...that's about it.

Kids don't fear their parents.
Sure, they don't want to get yelled at, or disappoint. But they aren't scared like we were scared. The stakes aren't near as high in my home as they were in my parents home. There are no spankings, and grounding a kid doesn't have near the impact it did twenty years ago. Now that every teen has a phone in his or her pocket he can pretty much stay connected at all times. Our preferred method of taking a toy away worked for awhile...just like Time Outs. They all work for a little while...but nothing scares them like I was scared. When I had my kids I vowed that they would never be scared of me-like I was scared of my mom and dad.

A kid's word is valued more than an adult's word.
This is a big one. Since when did young kids tell adults how it is in the world? I clearly recall that in the "olden days" if another parent called your parent to discuss a behavior or a comment made by your child....you had to answer to it. Honestly, I cannot imagine my mom saying "My kid would never say that...you are wrong" to another mother! She might believe me...but we always had "the talk" and made it right if another parent called our home.

We now live in age where adult teachers fear the kids. They worry when they go to work at suburban schools that they might be shot, targeted on the internet for death plots, struck at or verbally blasted on some site for all the world to read. Kids seem to now have more control that adults in high schools these days. How did that happen?? Not too long ago you worried if a teacher called your mom. You were scared to be sent to the principal's office. Adults were in control and led the younger generation on the right path.

So, as I sit here and ponder what all of this means for the future of my own kids I admit that I am stumped. We live in a different world today. A world where it is more acceptable to call adults by their first names. A world where expensive techo gadgets are for adults AND kids. A world where a hand on the tushie for talking back, calling names or misbehaving is grounds for the Child Protective Services to be called. A world where kids are empowered to make the rules more than ever.

I struggle to set the ground rules with my own kids. Sometimes I hit it the mark, sometimes I miss. But this I know for sure....Parenting is hard. Kids are challenging. And the world today is making it harder and harder to teach our kids to respect adults, to follow the rules, and accept consequences for actions. I can only wonder what these means for generations to come.

Maybe my parents weren't so crazy after all.

Let's get back to business.....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 13:23:00 +0000

The break was great. I regrouped and feel recharged mentally and physically. Some major things took place while I was away. I finished the book. Now I am searching for an editor and publisher to make things happen......and that is the hardest part of the journey.
I had several people ask when I would be returning to the blog. Thanks for asking, it is a great compliment to know that others like to read what you have to say.

Anyone reading Oprah's book club selection, "A New Earth" by Eckhart Tolle? I am very curious about this Oprah book phenomenon. She seems to wave a magic wand over books and authors and they immediately turn to gold. She does this with people(think Dr. Phil) and products (think Spanx and Wacoal bras) and books. It is fascinating to me that one woman can have so much power over our thoughts, emotions and actions. Kinda scary and if you stop and really think about it. Hmmmm....maybe I should send her a copy of my manuscript?!

So back to the book of choice. I am 45 pages in to this thing. It is a difficult read. One of the core elements of the book is the notion that you must live fully in the present moment to be fully alive and fulfilled. To let your mind ramble to past issues, or future endeavors is time wasted and not healthy for the soul. Interesting.....but not as easy as it seems. I am guilty of constantly thinking ahead to what needs to be done. Perhaps it does stop me from fully embracing the moment I am currently experiencing. So my goal this week is to fully embrace each moment as it comes. To try to enjoy the time or at least experience every detail of every moment of my life this week. It is a bigger challenge that it seems. For I am the woman who normally makes out the grocery list in my head as I am folding laundry, and makes calls for hair app ts. as I drive to get the kids from school. I am the ultimate multi-task er.
This should make for a very interesting week, and a very dirty house. If you have read the book and would like to share an insight, please leave a comment. I am very curious about how this book is impacting people. After all, it is the number one best seller and has sold millions of copies so my guess is that all of America is now "in the moment" and doing what they can to recognize how their egos are driving their lives.

Oprah has now catapulted Eckhart Tolle's two books to the number one and number 2 slots on the NY Times Best Sellers List. I'll bet he is thoroughly engaged in this moment, and I am sure his ego has been completely untouched.

A new begininng....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Fri, 21 Sep 2007 12:49:00 +0000

As fall rolls in I am in awe of the beauty it brings.

It has been almost a full year since the start of these writings. Of course, one never knows what the year will bring, but nothing could have prepared me for the year I endured. I have had the wonderful opportunity of sharing these events and the thoughts that go with them here, with all of you.

With pain and obstacles comes learning and healing.
And so, on this fall day, I feel healed.

I am healed of believing that I need to please everyone all of the time.
I am healed of thinking that I am immune to the worst of situations.
I am healed of worrying about every obstacle in my day or in my world that I cannot control.
I am healed of carrying guilt for giving to myself.
I am healed of attempting perfection...in any way, shape, or form.

The healing of the heart is beauty in all its glory. I carry all of the lessons from this year with me daily.
My mom's voice speaks to me in everything I do.
My father's illness has shown me that weakness is what makes us human.
My friendships have carried me through hardships and made me forever grateful.

My children have shown me that through love....anything is possible.

Thank you to all that read my entries with fervor and excitment or disgust and disdain. Thanks to all of those who offered comments and feedback.
This blog has made me a better writer.

I am not saying goodbye. That is too final. I am simply stepping away for a couple of months. I am continuing work on a book and hope to finish it by the spring.

Stay posted! And may you all have a wonderful year.

Eating Crow....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Tue, 31 Jul 2007 21:50:00 +0000

Personal Trainers are all the rage here.
It seems that everywhere I turn someone is hiring one to get in shape, lose the baby weight and feel good about their body again.
I admit, I secretly thought that these people were crazy.
After all, most average Americans don't have the resources for a trainer. I never knew anyone in my adult life that had a personal trainer until I moved here. Most people I knew trotted along to a local gym or invested in a bowflex in their basement that was used as a coat rack more often than not.

Then I stepped on the scale.
Shit.

The last six months of my life had taken its toll on me.
I had gained six pounds. Not a ton of weight, I know. But just enough that I felt uncomfortable and my wardrobe wasn't looking so hot.

I decided to start a workout plan. Sensible diet and exercise. Easy enough.
The problem is...I am getting close to the big "40" and what worked before wasn't working so well. I was barely making a dent.
A month ago I had dinner with a friend who recently gave birth to a set of twins. I couldn't help noticing that she looked amazing. Actually, she looked even better than before her pregnancy.

"So, what is your secret?" I asked her.
"Diana." She tells me.
"Who?" I ask.

She then goes into a ten minute monologue about her personal trainer. I am bored at first, then more interested, then fully intrigued.
"Tell me more." I beg her. And she does.....

The very next day I sat and pondered the thought of calling her. It took me all day. At nine o'clock that night I decided to leave a hesitant message on the machine.

The very next day I was introduced to a whole new way to improve my health. My real hesitance...the fear of the unknown, took way to enlightenment as she showed me what I was doing that sabotaged my efforts. My unfair bias dissapeared as our hour came to an end.

I am officially converted.

Like a typical newbie, I feel compelled to "spread the word."

And so here I am. Four weeks later. Transformed.

Not only did the six pounds come off, but I have discovered muscles that I didn't know existed.

She is worth every penny.

Someone give me a big ole' shovel....I need to eat some crow.

Gossip....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sun, 08 Jul 2007 21:45:00 +0000

Is it truly "gossiping" anytime you mention or inquire about an individual to another while the one in question is not present?
Nobody likes to ever admit they gossip but I am hard to pressed to think of anyone I know that doesn't engage it in from time to time. Most of it is innocent enough and we usually label it something different than what it is "venting" or "running it by you".....when we all know we what we are really doing is gossiping.
But what about when someone is sick, or their loved one dies? Is it gossiping if you ask their friends about it?

I think not.

When someone is sick people want to know three things.
Can they help.
What is the illness.
And how can I "not" get it.

When someone dies people want to know three things.
Can they help.
What did they die from.
How can they "not" die from it.

I don't think this is gossiping. It is human nature to wonder about those who are less fortunate than you are on any given day.
I was shocked at how many people knew that my mom died or that my dad was sick....and I wondered for a second "Am I the lucky one being gossiped about today?" But I quickly realized that most everyone talking about it was sad for me, wanted to help me, and at the very least, was keeping us in the prayers.

And so.....I will continue to ask about those who I am concerned for, in hope that good news will follow.
I hope that others will continue to ask about me when I am in need.

It is always nice to know that someone cares.

Guiltless Vacations.....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sat, 30 Jun 2007 13:00:00 +0000

The mommy wars raged on this week.
I found myself engaged in a conversation that had me half heartedly defending my choice to leave my children for a much needed vacation.

We don't do this very often, once or twice in a year to be exact.
The majority of my friends in my immediate sphere know the value of much needed time away from the kids. There is, however, another group of mothers who frown greatly on such luxury. I know one or two of these mothers personally...and trust me, they are not at all shy about voicing their opinions to me.

As I planned for this four day trip I heard it all.....the same things I hear each and every time they know a mother is about to get on a plane or in a car and capture some alone time or couple time.

"Why did you have kids if you aren't gonna raise them?"
"How could you leave your kids for so long?"
"Aren't you worried?"
"How can you sleep without them in your house?"
"I got that out of my system before I chose to have children."

And the passive aggressive comment is always the best:

"I am so happy for you, but I could never do it. I would worry about them too much."

Gee, thanks.

When I first had kids I fed into this myth that I was a bad mommy if I ever needed or wanted a break from them. I truly believed that vomit soaked spit rags and constant mothering to the point of exhaustion made me "better" than the rest. It was a life I signed up for...so I figured I really couldn't opt for a break.
It is the mommy martyr syndrome at play. The idea that we must be "on" 24/7 to do our job well. Pretty crazy if you stop and think about it. Common sense tells us no one can do their job every second of every waking hour and continually be effective. Not-a-one.

Over the years I have come to see the light. Not only do I know that I need time away from my children, I also know that THEY need time away from me. They thrive when they get a break from the same mundane routine. We all get into ruts.
My trusted child care provider loves them, cares for them and engages them in new fun ways, that they look forward to and enjoy.
It is a win/win situation.
My husband and I rekindle our own relationship with time away, and enjoy "babying" each other for a change. It reminds us of why we got married to one another.
I realize again why I love this man. Why I chose him as my partner.
And we all know that the greatest gift you can give to your children is the gift of a healthy relationship with your spouse.

Four days will go quickly.
The second I step in my house...my job takes over as though it never stopped and I will be rested and ready to tackle it all with open arms.
As I sit in this quiet room, coffee in hand, the sun shining down on me. I feel calm, relaxed for the first time in a year.
No fights, no spills, no poopy tushies, no rushing. Just calmness.

Aaaahhhhh. I am reformed.

Summer fun.....summer hassles....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sun, 24 Jun 2007 21:40:00 +0000

It is that time of year again.
Parents of young children watch the weather, and wait for "pool days" to come to suburbia. The minute the temperature hits 75 degrees we all grab the pool bag and head out for summer fun.
Our community pool is the scene that movies about the suburbs are made of. It is a textbook. Every couple from the neighborhood, the preschool, the grocery store, and the PTA are suddenly prancing around half naked, their bodies pale from the long winter.
Truth is...normal middle aged people look better with their clothes on.
The only "hot" factor going on was the rising temperature on the outdoor thermometer.

South Beach....it ain't.

The usual gossip trickles around the shallow end when certain people arrive. The dads let it all hang out, not really aware of the their guts, or caring for that matter. They are completely oblivious to the gossip....except when she struts by them.
The moms, however, care.
Most of us run for our cover up any time we have to move from one chair to the next, go to the restroom, or buy something at the concession stand. No woman I know really feels comfortable strutting around the pool in all of her "baby making" body glory, letting it all hang out.
It is at these precise moments that I long for the body I had when I was single. Before gravity met me and my children took up house in my uterus. Before my hips moved three inches out in both directions to accomodate my new priorities.

Before I thought of a skirted bathing suit bottom as "cute".

The amount of strategy necessary for the day at the pool wears me out. I am tired before I even get in the water.
First you must find a suit that fits you. (this isn't rocket science.... it is way worse.)
You must shave or wax all of your hairy bits. (which often means a shower in the a.m. and another when you get home)
Then you must get a cover up that is both cute, and functional.
You must pack the bag with sunscreen, pool passes and pool toys, snacks and towels and money.
And if you happen to have your period on the perfect pool day....well then, you are totally screwed.

My kids, of course, notice none of this prep work. They gallop around in all their glory, oblivious to the concerns of middle aged spread. They have no cares in the world. It is as it should be.

Ahhh.....to be young again.

I am thinking that the idea of a backyard pool might not be so crazy after all.

A day for Dad......

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 13:54:00 +0000

It has been awhile since I have had the opportunity to write.

What better day to catch up than today, Father's Day.

My own father is here with me on this sunny Sunday afternoon.
I am blessed. We are blessed.

In a matter of two weeks we dealt with a cancer diagnosis, a complicated surgery to remove a lobe of his lung, and now....recovery.

He is strong and ready to tackle life.
A role model like no other.

My father does his job well, and always has. He leads by example.

The nurses and doctors marvel at his recovery. They can hardly believe that this man endured a tough surgery less than a week ago and is already up, walking around, getting dressed and getting on with it.

They call it miraculous.
Dad calls it living.

Embracing life when life seems to difficult to navigate is the largest gift that a father can give his child.

My father continually shows me how to live and how to make every situation in life a positive one in the end. He was my first teacher in life.....and his lessons will always resonate in my head.

Optimism, hope, happiness and love.
With these attitudes anything is possible.

Happy Father's Day to all of the wonderful men out there.
Your children will forever be touched and changed because you are in their world.

Epiphany.....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sun, 27 May 2007 01:40:00 +0000

The old quote "G-d only gives you what you can handle." has been tinkering in my mind all week long.
We have all heard it, I have even said it once or twice. Maybe, for a time, I even believed it.

I have officially changed my mind.

G-d gives you nothing.
You give yourself the power to overcome, the strength to move forward, and the courage to face true fear.

Four months ago my mom died.
Four days ago my dad found out he is most likely battling lung cancer.

I asked myself for a brief moment, "Did G-d give me more than I can handle?"
I decided that G-d has given me nothing. I believe in the power of a higher being, but I no longer have any faith in the idea that G-d controls daily events or give me any special power to push forward. I give that to myself.

My amazing father. Strong, sweet, good to the core. Never tells a lie, always sees the beauty in people....golden.

Twelve months ago I had two parents visiting me on this holiday weekend. Today I have one parent I will visit at the cemetery, and another I will comfort as he fears what his future will hold.
I am not bitter. I am grateful. I have learned to be grateful for today....as tomorrow is uncertain.

I have my dad in the present and I plan to start enjoying him more today than ever before. I know he will beat this monster. He was vigilant and caught it early. He will most definitely survive.

And when he does......I will not thank G-d.

I will thank my father....for it is his fight to win.

A loss...

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sat, 19 May 2007 14:46:00 +0000

A moment of silence on behalf of Lauren Terrazzano.

A brave fighter, an amazing journalist....and a woman that was strong to the core.

Lauren Terrazzano
1968-2007
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/17/nyregion/17terrazzano.html

Keeping up with the Jones....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Wed, 16 May 2007 17:17:00 +0000

Keeping up.
The burbs are known for lots of things...good schools, lots of green space, parks, community pools...and keeping up with the neighbors.

In every burb you will find that there are those people who just feel the constant need to "keep up".
You got a pool?
They got a pool.

You repainted?
They repainted.

You hired an architect to build a new something?
So did they....and it goes on and on and on.

The most interesting thing about this phenomenon is that most of us don't ever think that "we" are the ones keeping up. I know of nobody that would willing recognize this trait in themselves.

Where does it all begin? Are there one or two "free thinkers" in the hood that feed the fire for the followers? Why do grown adults really care so much about what others are doing?
Some of the worst offenders of the keeping up sect are those who cannot "afford" to keep up, but wish they could....they become the criticizers of all things for which they do not have and verbalize it at every opportunity.

You have a pool?
Your neighbor got a pool.
But this neighbor thinks it is outrageous that anyone would waste time or money on a pool.

You redecorated?
Your neighbor redecorated.
But this neighbor shakes her head at both of you....what is the point, they can find better ways to spend their money.

Your kid has crocs
His kid gets crocs
They laugh at all of you for wasting $25.00 on the real deal.

A friend of mine called today. She got a brand new screened in porch for Mother's Day. It has been in the works for months and the final coat of paint went up on Sunday.

I have always wanted a screened in porch. Hmmmmm.

I crawled into bed last night.

"Honey, what about a screened in porch this spring?"
"Nope. Too expensive."
"But Lisa just got one and it sounds REALLY nice."
"So? Why are you playing keep up with the Jones?" He asked me.
"Me? Play keep up with the Jones? NEVER."
"They paid way too much for a porch they can only use three months out of the year." He mumbled."
"I think it would be so nice to have a non buggy place to sit in the summer."
"We can talk about it tomorrow." He groaned as he fell fast asleep.

I called Lisa today to get the name of her contractor.

"Oh, so you are going to build one now?" She asks me with a slightly annoyed tone in her voice.

Uh-Oh. Busted.

Happy Mother's Day!

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Sat, 12 May 2007 12:54:00 +0000

Sunday is a day for celebration.

Sure, my mom is not with me in body....but she will never leave my heart and soul. She is with me every single day-guiding me as I make choices with my own children. She helps me to be a better mother.

THINGS THAT I LOVED ABOUT MY MOM:

She worried about me more than I could ever worry about myself.
She taught me that dissapointment is a part of life.
She had great taste in house decor and I think of her anytime I contemplate a purchase.
Her hugs were huge, her laugh was hearty and she would squeeze me until I was ready to explode.
Her rough and tough way made me laugh.
She was opinionated beyond belief, and never apologized for it.
We fought as much as we loved, and it strengthened our bond.
She bailed me out of things that I should have never gotten off the hook for time and time again.
We had a secret language at times. Code that only we knew. Somtimes I still talk in it...hoping she hears me.
She never cared one iota about holidays. She barely noticed what holiday was on the calendar and didn't expect cards or fanfare.

From her hospital bed she told me that I looked too thin, she hated my shirt, I had on too much makeup and that I needed to go home earlier and tuck my children into bed. She was a mother until the very end.
When I cried at her hospital bed she turned to me and with strength said "STOP IT" "YOU HEAR ME?" She refused to let me cry for her. She always stressed that she should pass first and that the cycle of life was in place. It was as it should be and she was at peace.

For Judy, Mother's Day was every day.
She wore the title like a crown. She reminded me every single day that it was the most important job I would ever hold and that I would never retire, quit or take a sabbatical.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers of the world.
May you wear your crown proudly tomorrow and remember that the marks you leave on your children will never ever be forgotten.

Celebrity Obsession....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Wed, 02 May 2007 22:09:00 +0000

I admit it.

I get excited when my People Magazine arrives each week. I make it a ritual. I get my Chipotle burrito, pour a glass of vino, and read it cover to cover. I am obsessed. I recognize that our society is overly absorbed with celebrities, and that I am just one with the masses as I seek out the latest tabloid headlines. I can't help myself.
I also willfully admit that I get E-online updates, visit TMZ.com, and secretly try to catch Entertainment Tonight while I bathe the kids. Call me obsessed, crazy, shallow and silly, but I LOVE celebrities.
I like to see what they are wearing.....who they date, where they hang out and even what they eat. It is a healthy distraction for me. A diversion from my real life. You know, the one where the kids are drawing on my body, my cellulite is inching it's way towards the back of my knees, and my husband thinks that sex a couple of times a month is "scoring".

I don't necessarily like to read about their hardships....but I do like to know that they stumble and fall like real people. I guess I secretly hope that the only thing that separates me from them is location and occupation.
Here in the midwest any mention of traveling to the East or West Coasts evokes one major question..."Did you see anyone famous?" Face it, here in Ohio you rarely see beautiful people that show up on your movie screens.

A friend of mine also shares the celebrity obsession. He can't help it. He looks out for them, tracks them down, and almost ALWAYS gets a picture. I am impressed with his tenacity. He isn't ashamed of his desire to touch, talk or just admire any celebrity in his path. On his recent trip home from the Big Apple I anxiously awaited his latest conquest.
He did not dissapoint.
I admit that it was deeply exciting to see a picture of Cameron, shot by papparazzi, on the pages of People wearing this same outfit and taken only hours after my friend had this one taken.

I am weirdly proud of him.

I miss you....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Thu, 26 Apr 2007 13:21:00 +0000

Once you have lost someone close to you it forces you to look at life more delicately. You fully realize how fragile the gift really is, and that you should live every day as if it is your last.

I miss my mom.

I miss her everyday, but today it hurts so deeply that it takes my breath away.
These moments come and go....and when they strike it is with random uncertainty.

I woke up this morning with hope and love in my heart for my husband, for my children and for me. Today is not a day of special meaning-it is just a plain ordinary Thursday. I was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper, when the pain hit me at my core. It came as it always does...no trigger, just a random thought and then waves of intense pain as I comprehend that my mother is really gone.

Ouch.

I miss my mom.

The kids were playing quietly downstairs, so I chose to close my eyes and attempt to see her, feel her, and smell her, as though she were sitting right next to me. I saw her hands...the lines and wrinkles, and her short stubby fingers in my mind. I could feel her hand wrapped around mine while sitting at the breakfast table....just as she always did in the mornings that she visited. Her presence enveloped me. I felt as though I was being held by her, if only for a second.

When I opened my eyes they filled with tears. And I let them fall into my coffee cup, and onto to the paper, staining the words in print. I cried until no tears were left. I cried for the grandchildren she won't see again, I cried for the spring she won't enjoy and I cried for all of the new experiences in my life that I can no longer share with her.

After a few minutes I got up, got dressed, and went about my morning.

This is the strangest thing about grief. It visits you when you least expect it. When you haven't prepared for it. And the moments drift off as quickly as they arrived. It is odd...the feeling of intense pain, followed by a feeling of calm.

I miss my mom.

But I know that my memory of her will keep her alive forever. I don't have any interest in numbing the pain.
I want to feel it. I welcome it.
For each time I experience it....I feel her with me, and in those moments she is still very much alive.

In memory of Judy and Mary and all of those mothers we have lost...whose love will never die.

In a second...

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Wed, 18 Apr 2007 19:07:00 +0000

In a second two hopeful, talented young people were killed in a dormitory at Virginia Tech.....hours later, thirty more...murdered.
By now we have all read the stories, seen the coverage and heard the rumors.

A tragedy.

Is anyone at fault? Could they have done more? And who is "they" anyway?
Like you, I scratch my head at this sad set of events and ask why. Of course, we will never have a clear answer. Just assumptions, guesses, and lots of pieces of a puzzle that will never fully fit together.

Virginia Tech is a large school, not unlike the one that I attended 20 years ago. I was quick to ask why the authorities didn't do more. Why didn't they alert the students and faculty faster? Why not a mass e-mail or mass phone system alerting danger to all.....so many questions, and "what ifs".

Information is slowly surfacing. The shooter was a loner. An English major, who wrote pieces so disturbing that professors feared tutoring him one on one. I ask myself, why didn't they force this guy to get help? Why did they allow him to continue scripting these horrors on paper, in their classrooms? How did he continue to pursue his college career without mental help despite the pleas from professors, who brought the matter to the attention of administrators.
How did he slip through the cracks?

Sure, this tragedy could have happened anywhere. Nobody could have predicted.

Or could they?

When a student displays this type of odd social behavior, writes plays and stories of graphic, disturbing violence and hatred.....you CAN predict to some degree that this person is disturbed and capable of something deviant and evil.

I am so very sad for the families of these victims. So sad for all that surrounds this beautiful campus.

More than anything, I am angry.

Angry at why school officials blew off the warning signs. Angry that professors were scared of this kid, alerted high level administrators, and yet, nothing was done. Angry that this kid was permitted to fall so far under the radar screen that he walked into a store and legally purchased a weapon that serves NO purpose but to kill other people.

My heart hurts for all of those who have been touched by this tragedy. May they find peace and healing with time.

I don't blame the police or campus security for this tragedy.
I blame the university officials who ignored the repeated warnings over the last three years. If only they had paid attention. If only they had taken it seriously.

If only they had "gotten involved."

Standing in line.....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 19:09:00 +0000

I spent my Saturday morning standing in line.
I got to the venue very early....one hour early to be exact, for fear that my child might not get a spot. The moms had been discussing the session options for months. This is my first child, so I listened intently...hoping to learn what I needed to know to "get in" early.
Every mom who has a pre-kindergarten going to camp this summer wants the coveted first morning session so it doesn't conflict with camp.....so we all knew we had to get there really early. I got my coffee, my reading materials, and my comfy clothes on in preparation for my wait. I didn't even go out late the night before, so I could be assured I wouldn't oversleep!

When I arrived I saw many familiar faces. The first ten mom's in line were other Jewish moms that I knew from various activities. One might say that it was quite a "scene". We were all happy to socialize with one another for an hour without the tug of five year old kids on our pant legs. I barely read a page of my magazine, I was too busy enjoying the coffee hour.
The line seemed to be getting longer by the minute, and I got a little worried when I didn't see one of my girlfriends anywhere in line. "I sure hope she gets into the right session" I thought. She surely couldn't have forgotten, after all, she was the one who reminded me several times about it.
Of course, this was my first time doing this.....but I felt proud that I was able to get up early enough to secure my son a spot. The first two or three people in line beat me, but I was still in the top ten.
Five minutes before the hour they "opened the doors" and we all got a little anxious. The director came over to us and began passing out the forms. We all filled them out in advance, making certain we spelled the name of the sponsor correctly. We didn't want to get up to the registration table and be unprepared.

Right on the hour they began letting us in. One by one we made our way to the tables, good mothers, doing the right thing.
Seconds before I left I realized that I still didn't see my friend. She must be in the very back....from the door it seemed the line might go on for miles, so I called her.
She answered. Uh, oh.
She forgot.
I scrambled with the help of another a friend to sign her child up while I heard her self loathing on the other line....she couldn't believe that she forgot about THIS! I spotted her the money, wrote the check, and managed to sign her child up as I passed through the table.
As I exited the room I realized that that the line wasn't quite as long as I imagined. As a matter of fact, there were only ten people or so behind me...and a couple of people were arriving right at the designated sign up time.
I noticed that most of the sign up forms were still there, and that many people weren't even there yet.
I felt a pang of embarrassment as I walked towards my car. I was embarrassed that I bought into all the hype, that I arrived so early thinking that this would be such an ordeal.

As I drove towards home I reflected amusingly on just how much my life has changed.
When I was younger there were very few things that I would label as "worthy" for waking up early on a Saturday.
There were very few things I would stand in line for with any strong determination.

They were:

Admittance to a very hot new club.
Tickets to a super hot Broadway show or a rock concert.
A line for a bathroom at a club on Friday or Saturday night after I had too many cocktails.

But today I am a mom. I am forever changed.
Today I didn't stand in line for anything that was dangerous, exciting, sexy or loud.

Today I waited in line for one hour and ten minutes so that my five year old to go to Safety Town the week before summer camp.
He will learn all the "how-tos" about going to school safely. He will learn to ride a bus, cross the street, and "say no" to drugs.

As I pulled into my driveway my embarrassment gave way to pride.
Suddenly, I couldn't think of one better reason in life to get up early.

My kids make every sacrifice worth it.

Why not be a fighter?

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Wed, 04 Apr 2007 22:53:00 +0000

We can't pick up a newspaper or watch television without seeing or reading something about Elizabeth Edwards these days. She is everywhere. Sadly, however, as she fights for her life and her right to live it out as she chooses, she is being faced with enormous criticism. The criticism isn't coming from the political arena or from her medical team, it comes, instead, from her own sisters....other women and mothers just like herself. Some who have already faced a breast cancer diagnosis.

This makes me so sad.

I wrote a post awhile back about "mean women" The post was mainly about how harshly our gender treats one another. I got several comments that challenged what I observe about women as a whole....but I continue to see these behaviors everywhere and Ms. Edwards situation brings it out in the open once again.
Women are brutal to one another.
Mothers are brutal to one another.
We love to support our "sisters" and to stick together. But when one of our own does something that goes against our own moral compass we judge, we berate, we criticize.

I admire Elizabeth Edwards.

I see a woman with great strength, and tenacity. A woman who, in the fight for her life, refuses to give up.
I see a mother who is setting a good example for her young children.
Her children will always know that their mother was a fighter, that she didn't let cancer stop her from pursuing her dreams, and the dreams of her husband.
I see a woman who leave behind a legacy of will and class.

It is disheartening to read critical opinions that mothers all over our country have about Elizabeth Edwards. Some believe she is in denial, or that she is selfish for continuing to compaign. Others feel she was wrong to have children at an "older" age.

I am proud of her.
She will not let cancer win.
She is a true fighter.

I hope to teach my daughter to be that courageous and dignifed. To not let illness or any obstacle get in her way of pursuing life long aspirations and to stand tall and proud of who she is and what she stands for in the world.

When death calls you into the ring, why not be a fighter?

The Art of Equality.....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Tue, 27 Mar 2007 13:56:00 +0000

Spring Break.

I remember when it meant pure freedom.
No responsibility, tan skin and aloe vera, lazy days in the sun and nights filled with great food and lots of drink.

Eight years of marital bliss and two kids later.....spring break has taken on a whole new meaning.
This is the time of year we snowbirds crave sun and warmth. We gravitate towards palm trees and places where we don't need three layers of clothing to venture to our mailbox.
My family is no exception.
We will make our yearly trek South this week for our annual spring break vacation. For my children, it will be a week that memories are made of. Lots of sun, lots of attention and plenty of fun. My husband is already daydreaming about cigars on the lanai of our condo. and days filled with no phone ringing, no computer calling his name, and lots of treasured time with his kids.....
I, on the other hand, am already dreaming of my vacation AFTER I get home from this vacation.
You know.......the one where I will get to actually relax and unwind?!

While family trips are fun and the memories are special, vacations for a mom of two young children are....well....WORK.

This is my calendar of the months and days leading up to our yearly family vacation...
Look familiar?

Spring of 2006-While on our yearly spring break trip, begin scouting out locations and available condos. that will meet our needs for the following year.

Summer 2006-book our travel plans. Make airline reservations and attempt to locate a rental car that is both, cheap and acceptable.

Fall 2006-Confirm condo. with deposit, square away travel plans, and start scouting out things for the kids to do in the area.

Winter 2007-Begin the task of going through the summer clothes, decide which will fit for the spring vacation, and then start gradually shopping for all of the new summer items the kids will need. New sandals, new shorts, new shirts, new swim goggles, new.......everything.

Late Winter 2007-Start my diet in preparation for wearing a bathing suit. Take quick inventory of current summer weather clothing options. Decide what fits and what doesn't.....start shopping some new mom clothes and, the worst task of all, a new bathing suit.

Two weeks prior to departure-Buy self tanner....seeing your legs in shorts after a long midwest winter can be downright frightening. Start setting out the kids clothes and all of the pool gear. Buy new sunscreen and aloe vera, and other summer need accessories. Realize that my diet didn't go so well.

One week prior to departure-Stop the paper, stop the mail, cancel the cleaning person, do all of the laundry in the house so that the kids have clean winter clothes to wear when we return.

Three days prior to departure-Inform neighbor I will be out of town, arrange for neighbor to water the plants, and feed our fish.

Two days prior to departure-Clean out the fridge, take out the garbage, and clean up the house so that we don't return to a disaster area. Take out the luggage and clean it out......and start packing! Realize that, once again, I overshopped and over packed.

One day prior to departure-Finish the packing, print the boarding passes, confirm the travel plans, set out clothes, activities and snacks for the kids to eat and play while on the plane. Run the dishwasher, PRAY that the weather is good, the plane is on time, and that nobody gets sick in the next 24 hours.

DONE. Off we go......

And here is a peek at my husband's calendar:

One year prior departure-Worry about how to pay for next year's family vacation.

One week prior to departure-Double check the price I paid for our rental and our plane tickets. He trusts me, of course...he is just checking.

One day prior to departure-Pack his things only...which consist of underwear, a bathing suit, sandals, khakies, shorts, and a couple of golf shirts....oh, and cigars and a book.

One hour prior to departure-carry heavy luggage to the curbside check-in. Turn on automatic out of office reply on e-mail.

One minute prior to departure-kiss me, kiss the kids, and smile, dreaming of the all of the fun we are about to encounter.
Help buckle the kids in their seats.
Sit back, relax.
Then he will turn and say to me:

"This is getting easier and easier every year, why don't we do this more often?"

Have a wonderful, and relaxing spring break vacation.

The grass is always greener...or is it?

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Mon, 19 Mar 2007 19:48:00 +0000

"The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence"

How many times have we heard that line and experienced that sentiment ourselves?

If only we could take a deeper look at the roots beneath the lawn on the other side of the fence before we started complaining about our own landscape.

Today I had an epiphany.

I was standing in line at a local department store, waiting for an assistant to ring my latest purchase. As I waited my turn, my eyes couldn't help but admire the most beautiful, young woman standing in front of me. She was obviously in college, and chatting to her mom about finals, boys and how excited she was to go to Mexico this week for her spring break.

Her body was all but perfect. I am not a lesbian by design, but if ever there was a woman that could make me think twice....I believe this young girl might have been it.
Her skin was clear, and tan. Funny, how a dark, glistening tan on young taut skin always looks so beautiful, but as we age the sun just makes us look freckly, wrinkly and older.
I admired her long gorgeous hair and the way in which her highlights enhanced the beauty of her face.

I had a pang of envy.

I imagined how wonderful it would be to young, beautiful, and in Mexico vacationing...with no real responsibilities, no real heartache. No kids to tug at you, no job to report to, no house to clean or laundry to fold, nothing but relaxation and fun.

I allowed myself a two second fantasy and drifted off to a warm, tropical white sand beach somewhere in Mexico. I felt the warm sun penetrating my skin, as I sipped a cold, alcoholic drink with an umbrella in it.......aaahhh.......

"Can I help you?" Asked the sales girl, bringing me back to reality.

As I handed her my merchandise, the young beautiful co-ed was still standing near the register on her cell phone. Suddenly she began sobbing uncontrollably. She was talking so loudly to her mother that we were all accidentally invited to her pity party. The poor girl had just been dumped by her latest boyfriend. She cried that there would be no vacation....no love..no anything.

"Love Sucks" the sales girl grunted.

"Youth Sucks" I thought to myself.

A sneak peek at the other side of the fence made me realize that, while the grass appeared greener, my side was plenty lush....and all I need to be happy.

The interesting thing about blog writing....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 18:19:00 +0000

Writing a blog is a funny thing. You put your thoughts on mundane, and sometimes not so mundane topics on the Internet.....and you open up the door to all sorts of readers.
I have been very very lucky. The majority of my readers have been respectful.

I understand that not everything I post will come across with the right emotion connected to it and that the meaning may get lost in translation. It is a risk with all writing. I also know that once your blog address gets "out there" you are inviting friends and non friends to read your blog.

Most writers welcome comments.
I love to read comments from readers, regardless of their stance on a topic. I welcome different viewpoints, especially ones that are well written and thought out. I attempt to never delete comments, even though I do have that control. I believe in freedom of speech and hope that any comment here, regardless of it's take on a subject can remain. My wish is that all of our different perspectives can enlighten us on subjects and force us out of our comfort zone and into another mode of thinking......seeing a different spin on a familiar scene or topic.

What baffles me is the mind of the reader who goes out of their way to read....then comment by spitting venomous crap at me or at those who I write about. Why bother? Wouldn't it seem obvious that if you happen to know me ( and many readers do) and you don't like who I am, that you would stay away?
Interesting phenomenon that I see happening here. There are one or two readers than continue to come back, almost daily to read this blog. These same readers then take time out of their day to comment and spew negative crap at me....and worse yet at my family!

Here is the deal. I love writing this blog.

I love to write....period.

I don't always have deep, insightful things to say. I don't always see things the same way the very next day after I write them. My views change, just like yours do. I may not always share a same viewpoint as you or express myself as I intend.

But I guarantee this..... there isn't one entry on this blog that hasn't had the approval of the person it revolves around.

I don't play dirty.

Life is messy and people get themselves into all sorts of situations.
Nobody is immune.
If I choose to write about a situation that I see as interesting or as a valuable lesson in life, I always seek the consent of the party involved.

So, please.....

If you read my blog........ thank you.
If you have something to say about my writing.....go right ahead and comment.

Please keep your personal opinions about me, my children and my family to yourself.

And for G-d sakes, if you don't like anything you read here......leave.

The meaning of friendship....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Tue, 06 Mar 2007 14:14:00 +0000

How do you define friendship?
What do you look for in a friend and what do you give to your friendships?
I have been pondering this question all morning.
What makes a "good" friend? I suppose the answer is different for each of us, dependent on what each of us needs from each other.

Like all of us, I have had some friendships that dissolve for no apparent reason, or for reasons that I don't always understand. But for the most part, my friends are tried and true. They know what to expect from me and I from them. We are solid......and I know that I can count on every one of them in a crisis.

I am of the belief that friends need to have honesty to stand the test of time. Some of my oldest friends will tell you that I am extremely blunt and direct. That I don't gloss things in an effort to make them feel better. I have wondered in times past if I need to tone this down...or if I can, for that matter. Being honest is so key in my friendships that I can't imagine not telling someone the truth if they ask for it. But we all know "friends" who do this.
They tell you what they think you want to hear. Are they being true to you?
Seriously, do you ask if you look fat in a pair of jeans because you want your friend to tell you that you look skinny and walk around looking chubby? Or would you rather a friend tell you that they aren't flattering....and help you find a pair that look great on you?!

I pick brutal honesty over misguided kindness.

When my friends ask me for my opinion on something...I give it to them straight. Hey, they asked, so I assume they really want to know what I think.

But make no mistake, there are some people out there they really don't want to know the truth.....they just want someone to tell them that what they are doing is O.K....even if you think it isn't. That their choices in life are not selfish, or dangerous, or misguided....even if you think they are.

These people don't really want friends, they want enablers. They want people in their lives that can give that affirmation for behavior that they know isn't healthy for them or those they love.

My life is too crowded for "friends" like that.

Thank You to all of the honest women and men in my life who I call "friend".

I couldn't survive without you.

More martial woes....

noreply@blogger.com (beffers) — Thu, 01 Mar 2007 23:05:00 +0000

Dropping like flies, they say......
Those couples who seemed "perfect" in the land of suburbia are heading to divorce lawyers one after the other. I just got wind of one more.....

For the record, this isn't a local couple that I know in "my" suburb.
It is a friend from a city where I used to live when we were both single, clueless and bar hopping every night.

She met Mr. Right on a Friday night after the bar lights went up and the beer goggles were thick. She was 28, he was 40. They had one thing in common...lonliness. He asked her to go to another party with her after the bar closed. I signaled to her with the ole' hand slash across my neck, as in RUN FOR YOUR LIFE.

He wasn't bad looking for an older guy, but my instinct just told me that this guy was not for her.

I was standing right there, next to her...watching her make the biggest mistake of her life.

She went to the party that night, loved his attention and better yet, his money. He was well established and willing to buy her anything to keep her. She was younger than him, but wanted more....of everything. The ring he put on her finger one year later was enough to seal the deal. It was enormous and very real.

At the altar I clearly remember thinking, I give this one five years. Sad, I know. But it is the honest truth.

So here we are....ten years later. They survived five years longer than I predicted.
Now she is 38 and he is 50. I ask her why she is leaving him. "why?" she laughs.
"Because he is boring."

Boredom. Hmmmm. The most common complaint about marriage, yet many of us manage to deal with it and make it more exciting. Marriage can and does have "exciting moments". It just takes a hell of alot more work to keep creating them.

I tell her that maybe she should try new things together, or take a vacation...but nope, her mind is made up. She has already bought herself a new pair of boobs and a new wardrobe. She wants a younger guy, she tells me. A boy toy.

I know this all seems so shallow, sad or even appalling to some, and it is. But uncommon?

No.

I can go to a certain Sushi joint here in my burb on any given Thursday night and I see it all over the place. Bored married people.....dressing up and drinking like they are single and available. Some have even been known to date....so long as their husbands don't find out.

Hey, at least my friend had the decency to get divorced first.