Lesson Learned.

While we try to teach our children all about life,
Our children teach us what life is all about.
~Angela Schwindt

Today, Big Guy's school held a Cross Country run for all 4-6th grade students. And this coming Saturday, there will be a similar event for all students in the entire school district. Improbably, BG is totally stoked for both. Now, if you've read this blog previously, you know that my dear, sweet boy is not exactly the most athletic child...lovable? Of course. Hilarious? Absolutely. Sweet, fun, and genuinely kind-hearted? Without a doubt. But, athletic? Notsomuch. But, today, my not-so-athletic kid taught me a little something about sportsmanship, and character.

During the race, as expected, the boys who are footballers, baseball players, basketball players, etc. pulled out in front. As BG fell further behind, my heart sank. Like any mother, I would walk over hot coals if it meant protecting my son from embarrassment or sadness. As my friends' sons crossed the finish line (one even placing first!), I cast an anxious eye towards BG, bracing myself for his disappointment as he ran far behind. But, to my amazement and fierce pride, my boy wasn't running with a discouraged slump in his shoulders - his head was up, and he was going HARD!

My baby knew he was at the back of the pack, but he was running like he was in first place. He was working so unbelievably hard; but still occasionally slowing to keep an encouraging eye out for his friend who was even further behind. He was determined, persistent and absolutely AWESOME. Even though running has never been his thing, giving up has never been, either.

I worry constantly about my boy. I want to protect him from every single thing that could possibly hurt him. But, there comes a time when he has to try things outside the comfort zone I have created for him. And even when it's hard, maybe disappointing and super scary (for both of us!) -- it seems we have raised the kind of little boy who is determined to try. The fear of failing is nothing in the face of fierce determination. 

And that is what my 9 year-old keeps teaching me every single day. 

My son didn't win the race, but he finished and he never quit. My husband and I were so proud of him that 'proud' isn't even a strong enough word. And most important of all, he was proud of himself. He wasn't tentative or timid. He was brave and glorious -- and I want to be just like him.

Guilt Is A Four Letter Word

Ahh, guilt.  Along with regret, one of the most useless, futile and absurd of all human emotions.  And yet, almost all of us feel it at one time or another, to varying degrees.  Currently, I am experiencing guilt-overload, and it is crushing.

I've always been a guilty person. (No, not THAT kind of guilty!) I am a people-pleaser.  I want everyone around me to be happy, and to like me.  I feel so bad if anyone is put out, inconvenienced or upset. That has meant conflict avoidance (even when confrontation was really what was necessary) and some bottling up of emotion. Totally unhealthy.  But the guilt I've been experiencing lately is even worse -- Parent Guilt. The most intense of all the guilts, in my opinion.

Ever since my husband and I were told of my Little Guy's potential (probable) ADHD, our lives have really changed. I've, of course, being a mom, have scoured the Internet doing research. We've been a lot more patient with him, knowing a lot of his behaviors he just can't help.  But along with changes in our family life, there has also been guilt piling up on me.

I feel guilty...
about the expectations I had for my children.  My husband and I were always part of the sports-related crowd.  I was a cheerleader, he played lacrosse and soccer. We had friends growing up and were always part of a fun group of friends.  I always expected my children to be the same.  But, neither of them are athletes, and both are a little young for their age...especially my Little Guy.  His teacher has noticed he has some problems relating to the other kids, which is a hallmark of ADHD. I feel guilty sometimes that he struggles with friendship. I wish it were easier for him. I feel guilty that I sometimes wish they were what I'd imagined them to be.

I feel guilty...
about the kind of mother I am.  Is my Little Guy's ADHD caused by something I did? Did I let him watch to much television? Do I fail in making sure he has the best nutrition? Did I expose him to some toxin in his bottles, toys, anything? What did I do wrong??

I feel guilty...
about talking to people about ADHD. Sometimes, it feels like all my conversations, regardless of where they started, come back around to it.  I don't want to be someone that no one wants to talk to because THIS is all they talk about (hello? People pleaser!!).  So instead, I just find myself retreating into myself...and bottling emotions.

I feel guilty...
about being so worried.  I have friends with children who are struggling with issues that are way bigger than ADHD. There are lots of people who suffer from ADHD; where do I get off being so consumed?  There are so many people out there with far more consequential, even life-threatening, concerns for their kids.  This is nothing compared to what others have to endure.

I feel guilty...
about my Big Guy. Dealing with an ADHD child requires a ton of patience and temper-control (one of the first things I read about it was the importance of remaining positive).  What patience and responsiveness can I possibly have left over for my Big Guy? Is he left wondering why all of our attention is directed his brother's way? We've explained the situation to him and he understands what's going on, but he's only 9. He's just a kid, too and even though he understands, it has to be impossible for him not to feel a little neglected.

I feel guilty...
about what choices we are going to make.  There are so many routes to take as far as treatment. Therapies, medications, diets -- so much to decide.  What if I choose poorly? I run all the possibilities in my head constantly, and I know I'll second guess everything we do. I feel more and more like a child instead of a parent...aren't the grown-ups supposed to decide and tell us what to do? Oh, I AM the grown-up? Well, it sure as hell doesn't feel like it; I am too scared and uncertain.

So, there it is. Logically, I know feeling guilty about all of the above (and more) a.) doesn't change anything, b.) might be a little ridiculous, and c.) doesn't do anyone any good.  But I still do. Writing all this down does help; I can see in black and white how silly and pointless some of this is. I know I need to (wo)man up and stop catering to the stupid, illogical guilt. My energies need to be focused solely on helping my sons (both of them) through this.

I'm trying.

Desperately Seeking...Something?

When I first created this blog, I was happily entrenched in my life as a stay-at-home mother. I had my hands full taking care of the boys, the house, my family in general.  But even then, I could see something out in the distance. A little glimmer of something, just out of reach and not quite discernible, but I knew it was there.  As the years have come and gone, that flicker of purpose got closer and closer.  And although the time has passed and I am still not quite sure what 'it' is -- here I am today, ready to reach out and grab it.

My sons have gone from small preschoolers who need their mommy for almost everything to big, independent boys who attend school. All day. Every day.  Without me. This fall, when the school year started and they were both finally there all day, that something out on the horizon started to poke at me.  I started thinking about the woman I used to be.  Now, don't get me wrong.  Choosing to stay home and raise my boys was the most valuable and important decision I ever made, and I would never change it, even if I could.  But, being a wife and mother was not something I'd always aspired to.  I had different goals and dreams as I grew up, and although they have been on the backburner for a while, they have never gone away.  Changed, evolved and metamorphosed, maybe; but never forgotten.

And now is the time to revive them.  Now, I am ready.

But here's the kicker -- all that change, evolution and metamorphosis?  Instead of wanting to start right back where I left off in the political arena, I am completely lost as to what I want to do NOW.  I don't mean to say that my past-life occupation wasn't important, or that I didn't believe in what I was doing, because I definitely did.  I believed in the issues I worked on and the people I worked for, almost to a fault (sometimes my passion did get the better of me!).  It's just now, my priorities have changed. It's hard to have two children, spend a significant time out of the workforce and reach the age of 40 without that happening.  My mission now is to take my changed priorities, meld them with my professional experience and find the perfect recipe for purpose.

So, what am I looking for then?  What are the ingredients that must be included to result in my desperately sought-after purpose? Well, though I may adjust for taste as the months go by and our family needs change, these are the core components:

• Balance.  My boys have never been to daycare.  They have never had anyone besides my husband or me have to pinch hit if they're sick. As I have said, their well-being and happiness are paramount to me.  I would love to find an employer who understands this, and embraces it. I truly believe that employees are happier, more productive and more satisfied in their work if they aren't constantly plagued by thoughts of what-ifs. What if my child gets sick? What if the boss penalizes me for asking for a flexible schedule on soccer game days?  Just knowing my employer 'gets it' would make all the difference for me in choosing to go back to work.
• Service.  Obviously, a factor in my returning to professional life is contributing to my family's economic well-being. But this is one thing that has not changed during my professional hiatus: I need for my work to be in service to others in some way.  In order for it to be meaningful for me, my industry has to help someone, somewhere who needs it.  I am drawn to non-profits and their mission to do good. As much as I adore the finer things in life, I have never worked just to make a buck.
• Patience.  I have been out of the workforce for a longtime.  And while I have tried to impose some of my former skills on to my current reality, it isn't quite the same. I have no doubt that once I am employed again, it will take me hardly any time to get right back into the groove and learn the ropes.  Hardly any time...but SOME time.  It's a different working world than the one I left behind, and I do realize it will require some adaptations and a learning curve.  Although I am quite confident I can not only do it, but excel at it, my ideal employer would acknowledge this adjustment and work with me.
• The 'Click.'   Not to belabor the point, but it has been a few years since I had a boss over the age of eight. At this stage in my game, it matters more to me what a potential employer's purpose is than specifically what I'd be doing within the organization. I want to connect, to click with it; I want to feel passion for its mission. I realize my resume gap will necessitate a certain degree of starting at the bottom. Again. But I don't mind. I am perfectly willing to pay my dues all over again -- answering phones or some administrative duties in the beginning. If the potential for advancement is there, and I'm contributing to the overall success of the organization, I can do what I'm needed to do. Ideally, I will find a position that will utilize my talents from past positions to become a real asset to my employer.  

Not much to ask, huh? :)

So, I continue on my path toward gainful, meaningful, and balanced employment. I am learning more about myself and my aspirations every day, and with every cover letter I write.  And although the process is taking longer than I would have predicted, I persevere.  I know it'll be worth the wait.

Redefining Compromise: Finding A Place to Belong

Compromise: [kom-pruh-mayhz] N. A settlement of differences by reciprocal modification of demands

When I became a mother, one of the most surprising (and to be honest, challenging) traits I had to quickly embrace was flexibility.  When it's just you, and even after you're married for the most part, you live life according to what fits you. In my pre-child existence, I had a vision of what I wanted my life to be: what was important to me and what I believed. When children come into your life, compromise obviously becomes necessary, and indeed vital.  And when they're small, there are the obvious adjustments to your lifestyle - sleeping patterns, social life, etc. But as they grow older, compromise becomes deeper, more meaningful. Not only is flexibility demanded in how you live your life, but also in how you grow as a person.

My oldest son is an amazing child. He is quirky and hilarious, loving and empathetic. He has an imagination the size of the moon, and gives the best hugs in the world. But, my Big Guy also marches to the beat of his very own, distinctly unique, slightly awkward, drummer. And, although he has played soccer for four years now, I don't think that drummer plays a samba beat.

Now, if you know my husband and me, or have read this blog before, or have any sort of acquaintance with us at all, you know that we are obsessed with soccer is a lifeblood in our family unit.  But just recently, my Big Guy has admitted to us that he has only continued playing to please us. Looking back, it was fairly evident. He wasn't the goal-scorer or even the most determined defender. My son just doesn't have an aggressive bone in his body. While some boys his age thrive on competition, Big Guy doesn't see winning as the be-all, end-all. He just wants to run and learn and be a kid.

My dear, sweet boy isn't a soccer player. Talk about deviating from the vision...and the need for compromise.

The Big Guy is only 8 and although he hasn't found a passion for any 'traditional' sport, that doesn't necessarily mean he never will. Maybe his coordination and drive will mature along with him. He takes swim lessons and really enjoys it.  Perhaps he will want to continue with swimming beyond just instruction, but time will tell. But for now, it has to be hard for him, seeing his classmates and peers playing and excelling at soccer, baseball, basketball, you name it. And we certainly aren't going to be another source of pressure, pushing him to do something that doesn't (and may never) feel natural or fun for him.

Where to go from here? As parents, of course we are intent on finding something for my son that makes him happy. A place to explore his world. Somewhere that offers him a place to develop his own personality and grow at his own pace. An environment in which his seemingly endless compassion can blossom in service to others. A  place where he, wacky drummer and all, can flourish. Somewhere he fits.

And this is where it gets hard.

The place where he can find what he is seeking might be the Boy Scouts of America.

Compromise: [kom-pruh-mayz] V. To make a dishonorable or shameful concession.

 
Simple human rights for the LBGT community is something I have enormously strong feelings about.  I can't wrap my mind around the fact that this has ever been, and especially that it is STILL an issue. People are people in my book, and why would who they love matter to me? The more love in the world the better.  So it bewilders me that people want to restrict rights, discriminate and crucify (well, it seems that way!) It is the year 2012, right?

So herein lies the dilemma. The Boy Scouts of America deny membership to openly gay individuals. I swore up and down, from the time my first ultrasound showed I was carrying a boy, that he would never, EVER be part of such a discriminatory organization. I haven't exactly been reserved about sharing how I feel, either.

And yet, here we are. Can I get past this? Am I selling out? Because that's exactly what it feels like. I have struggled internally and prayed, I have solicited opinions, and discussed this ad nauseum with anyone willing to listen. Because while I want to teach both my sons the value of a compromise (N), I am also afraid of teaching them to compromise (V).

It's bottom line time. I like to think of myself as a person whose convictions are rock solid. But I also know myself as a mother whose first priority is and always will be her children - their heath, well-being and their happiness. When it comes right down to it, I have to do what is best for my child. If the Boy Scouts are the ones who will help my son find his place in this world, so be it. But should the Scouts become a long-term fixture in our lives, make no mistake -  someday I will have taught him to believe so strongly in what is right and human and decent, that he will use the character-building and leadership skills they teach him to affect change within their own organization. And work from the inside out to bring the Scouts into the future without prejudice.

It's been a long journey of soul-searching...from admitting to ourselves that our son is not exactly what we'd envisioned, but is perfect nonetheless; to realizing what our duties as parents are, and fulfilling them in spite of having to alter our approach to society's issues.

Compromise. If my son has found a place to belong, we've done it right.

Movin' On Up...

Today was registration for the Spring soccer season at our township's recreation department. Now, we've done this six times in the past -- twice a year since Big Guy was 4 years old. So really, not a big deal, right? We should be old hands at this! But, something's a bit different this time -- Big Guy is moving up to U8.

I am sure you're probably scratching your head and wondering why this is blog-worthy at all. But, if you're a parent, and especially a football-loving parent, this a pretty big deal.

The first season we played U6, it was basically everything a soccer team should be for a four-year-0ld. They had cute little t-shirts (not kits), they played on a field with orange cones as goals, and they basically all swarmed after the ball up and down the field like one big rugby scrum! It was unbearably cute, all the little preschoolers running, dancing, twirling, and falling down on the pitch -- basically doing anything but actually playing the ball. Positions? Pah - even the goalkeeper didn't stay in the goal. And you can forget about passing. Most of the children were stealing the ball from their own teammates! Big Guy was the epitome of all of this...and my husband and I thought -- will he ever be ready for the big leagues (U8)?

This last season for Big Guy was different though. Towards the end of the season, my little attention seeker had stopped running along the sidelines, waving to the crowd. No more was he on the opposite side of the pitch from the swarm of kids around the ball. He wasn't dancing anymore -- he was dribbling, and he was scoring. All of a sudden, it was like a light switch turned on in his mind. He knew what to do, and he was doing it.

I can't even begin to tell you what this means to my husband. He's been an avid football player his entire life, and still plays twice a week. He'll say, "Whatever the boys want to do, it's fine with me. As long as they're happy." But you can bet your bottom dollar that seeing the Big Guy in action as he scored his first goal -- his big old macho heart was just bursting with pride.

Who knows where our son's big epiphany came from...coaching from Dad? The fact that we watch Manchester United religiously every week on television with him? Brainwashing? Haven't a clue. All we know Big Guy is really starting to develop the skills he needs to match the passion he has in his heart. I can only imagine his excitement when he dons his numbered jersey for the very first time. The look on his face will be priceless and I can't wait. He may be only moving up to U8, but for him, this will be a dream come true.

(Now we just hope and pray for the same epiphany for Little Guy! :)

Riding the Rooney-Coaster...

I think using the word "tumultuous" to describe last week is the understatement of the year. (I am so emotionally drained by this situation I couldn't even bring myself to write about it until today!) It all started when we, the United faithful, began to hear rumors on Sunday (after drawing with West Brom the previous day) that our beloved Wayne Rooney wanted to leave Manchester United.

Wayne Rooney has come to personify our team. For better or worse, he is the current face of United, and most people, supporters and not, identify him as an integral part of this team. In fact, earlier in the year, Rooney went so far as saying he would love to sign a lifelong contract with the club -- expressing the desire to play for the Red Devils forever.

On Tuesday, October 19th, our stalwart manager, Sir Alex Ferguson confirmed these rumors and my darkest fears. Wayne Rooney, indeed, wanted to leave United. The next day, in a statement, Rooney himself verified it. There were a whole host of issues surrounding this change of heart, and United fans across the globe debated the motivation for this. Was our man looking for more money? Did he really feel the current squad wasn't up to par? Did any of it really matter, as Wayne's form has been lackluster in the past 6 months?

I, of course, as all United fans did, had my own opinions on the situation. But, being a mother, I had one concern that trumped all the others - how was my Big Guy going to react to the news?

Big Guy has always been indoctrinated with United love ever since birth. However, ever since he really started to 'get' football and play it himself, he has loved Wayne Rooney. Number 10 is his favorite player, and as much as I hate to admit that my boy idolizes an athlete, Wayne Rooney is Big Guy's hero. Last week, as Rooney was spouting his hurtful and insulting comments about our cherished team, all that kept running through my mind was, "How in the world am I going to break this news to him?" I knew he'd be inconsolable; after all, I was taking away his first boyhood role model.

As I gently told him, he started to cry and then stopped himself. I could see him making a decision in his little head. "Don't tell me. It's not true." And he just began to refuse to believe it! For two entire days, he just ignored the facts and pretended it wasn't happening. Burying his head in the sand to say the least.

Finally, after meetings with the owners and manager, Rooney did a complete 180 and signed a 5-year contract with the club! On one hand, I was exuberant - I told Big Guy straight away that Sir Alex convinced Rooney that staying with the club was the right thing to do (true or not). He'd be able to keep wearing his precious Rooney top and watching his hero play in a red jersey. On the other hand, his mother is not so forgiving. I was a huge Rooney fan, too, but this whole ride has made me wary. You better watch your step, Wayne Rooney. If you ever break my child's heart again, there will be hell to pay.

Palace Baltimore -

I am consistently bemoaning the fact that the United States lags behind the rest of the world when it comes to support of football. Soccer. (We even call it the wrong name.) And although my heart and my family's belong to the mighty Manchester United, we try to support our local teams, if only to offer our patronage and encouragement to growing the sport here in this country.

Of late, we've been attending Crystal Palace Baltimore matches. CPB is a small, professional soccer team that competes in the United States Soccer Federation's 2nd Division. It's a really fun club to watch, and while not on par with the skill & talent level of United, it's a great way for the boys to get to watch live football. It's also a small enough club that they are able to go meet the players and get their autographs after home matches.

CPB is the sister club of the English Crystal Palace Football Club. Unfortunately, we are now hearing that the American club is facing the same financial problems as its UK counterpart. However, here, the club's problems lie with their lack of support. They don't have very many fans, and they don't even have their own stadium. And, as CPB was only founded in 2006, they don't have the history of their sister club, nor the deep bond with the fans they do have. I find this situation to be very sad...although my family has only been to two matches so far, both of the boys loved every minute. Especially the Big Guy. It is simply amazing how moved and inspired he was when he watched live football. It is safe to say that it solidified his love for the sport and his passion for the beautiful game. Between his loyalty to United, and seeing football played "in real life" right before his eyes, there is no doubt that he will be a lifelong football enthusiast.

And that's what makes the woes of CPB even more regrettable and disheartening. It feels as though they weren't even given the tools or the opportunity to succeed. All I can do is continue to give my family's support for the club, and desperately hope for some miracle to turn things around for CPB, like the happy ending that arrived in Selhurst Park.

Landycakes!

“Most of us are in this more than just for playing soccer. We're in it for the bigger goal: to move it along for the next generation.” --Landon Donovan

Something very exciting happened today!! This weekend, Big Guy decided that he wanted to be Landon Donovan for Halloween. Now we all know that this family eats, sleeps and breathes Manchester United, but dressing as Landon is very timely because of the World Cup this year, and there's nothing wrong with expressing a little patriotism in your Halloween costume! :)

On Twitter today, I tweeted to Landon Donovan that my son was going to be him for Halloween. It was on a whim, and not expected to really go anywhere. My tweets are 'protected' which means no one who isn't following me can see them. And if fellow tweeters want to follow me, I have to accept them (a la Facebook). My friend Robin thought it was cute and she retweeted my comment. And then the craziest thing happened. Landon. Donovan. Replied!!!

He made a joke about the costume, and making sure that the accompanying wig would have plenty of hair. I, of course, immediately started freaking out..."fan girl-ing" squealing, jumping around, the whole bit. Now I can't WAIT for Big Guy to get home from school to show him. Eeeeeeee!!!! :)

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

If you're a parent, no doubt you have uttered the words, "When did he/she get so big?" It's amazing how quickly time passes when you have children. Every day they seem to be achieving a new milestone...my Big Guy is in first grade, and I could have sworn I just gave birth about a week ago. And my Little Guy? I don't even know when he got here!

The time passes so quickly, I need to slow down and start savoring these little people. On a daily basis, they crack me up with some of the comments they make and conversations they have with each other and me. I really need to start writing everything they say down -- they will be mortifying memories in high school, but they will love it when they get older...or at least their wives will!

Here is just a sampling of gems -- one day in the life of the Big Guy:

• "Can I wear my Manchester United jersey to my First Holy Communion?"
• Getting ready for CCD: "God school is fun!"
  
• As we are driving to my dad's birthday dinner: "So, how old is Papa now? One hundred?"
• Looking at his new winter coat: "Wow!! That is brilliant!"
  

Back To School...Blues? Bliss?

Well, after a summer of swimming lessons, karate class, and football games, it all came to an end today. Big Guy had his first day back at school.

This year, he started the 1st Grade. He was beyond excited; he couldn't wait to go to sleep last night to make sure he got "good rest" for his new year. He woke up this morning, and immediately wanted to get dressed and put on his backpack -- who needs breakfast?!?

I have mixed emotions about the boys starting back to school. We have had a great summer together, laughing, playing, just being together. I am going to miss not having my little buddies with me all day long. We've had a blast being bosom buddies for three months!

The beginning of another school year also serves as a milestone marker: they're another year older, and another year more independent from me. When they were babies, they relied on me for everything...and while they're still only 4 and 6, I see them getting their own snacks, going to the bathroom by themselves and getting dressed solo and it makes me realize: they're needing me less and less. Case in point: yesterday, a song came on the radio, and I started dancing around the family room. While they used to jump in and dance along with me, Big Guy said, "Mommy, can you please stop it?" It's going to be a tough transition for me from the center of their universe to the 'embarrassing mom!'

On the other hand, I do have to admit a little part of me is excited...Little Guy will be in preschool three days a week, and with Big Guy in school all day long -- that means Mommy will actually get some 'me' time!! There will be errands I can run and just jump in and out of the car -- no handing holding in parking lots or buckling and unbuckling of carseat belts. I can spend some time shopping for me or getting my nails done, stuff I can't do with two crazy boys in tow. Even cleaning the house without little messmakers following me around is (somewhat of) a luxury...

At any rate, school is here, whether it makes me happy or sad. They're growing up and stepping out, and I can either long for the days of babyhood or look excitedly to the next phase of their lives. Every year with them has been an adventure, and this one won't be any different. And, it doesn't hurt that a little bit of my 'pre-kids' self is coming back slowly as they grow. I'll just hold on tight to their little hands for as long as I can and say, "Bring on the future!"

5 Year Meme

Tag!! You're it! :)
This blog brought to you thanks to Sarah's Blog

Question 1: Where were you 5 years ago?
Five years ago, I'd just had a stroke (see more here). I had no residual effects, and I was well on the road to recovery. I actually had no idea just how 'normal' I was...two months after my stroke and subsequent neurosurgery, I found out I was expecting a child!! After everything my body had been through, my husband and I had a sort of unspoken agreement that we were lucky to have our family just as it was, the three of us. But, apparently, God had a different plan for us. A complete shock, and a lesson to all you young people -- it only takes once! :)

Question 2: Where would you want to be in 5 years time?
This is a tough one...one which I ask myself on a daily basis, though. In five years, the boys will be 11 and 9 years old and obviously in school all day. I would love to be working in the political arena again, with a job that's incredibly important yet extremely flexible. A job where I can do meaningful work, but yet allows me as much time as need or want to continue to raise my family. Does that exist?

Question 3: What are 5 things on your "To Do" list today?

1.) Make an eye doctor appointment for the Big Guy.
2.) Fold laundry
3.) Get in touch with the travel agent about November trip to Disney
4.) Order United shorts for the boys for football camp next week
5.) Finish this blog entry! :)

Question 4: What are 5 snacks you enjoy?

Well, enjoy and let myself indulge are two very different things!! I am very fitness-conscious and try really hard to eat healthfully - most of the time!! If I am being good, I love Rita's Italian Ice, guacamole, a juicy peach, popcorn or pita chips. If I am splurging, I love salt & vinegar potato chips, gummy bears, fudge, cookies or an ice cream cone!

Question 5: What would you do if you were a billionaire?
Wow, I could write a book to answer this question! If I won the lottery, first things first, I would take my family (including grandparents and cousins) to Walt Disney World. This would not only be a vacation, it would be time for the husband and me to figure out exactly what our plan would be for the money. We would make sure all of our family and extended family were taken care of. We would buy a new house. (Not too huge, mind you, but with all of the latest green technologies.) We would set aside a trust for the boys' university. And then we would travel. We would see everywhere and do everything. My goal would be to become as familiar with all of the great cities of the globe as I am with my hometown. Finally, last but not least...I would buy a little football club in Manchester, England...!

I'm supposed to tag 5 fellow bloggers, but other than the two fabulous ladies mentioned below, I only follow football blogs! :)

Soapgirl at Soapgirl's Thoughts
Sarah at Sarah's Blog

A Dream Come True...

Last night, I sat sweating in sticky 90F+ degree heat, listening to an obnoxious, drunken idiot screaming, and I was incredibly tired. But, I couldn't stop grinning. I might as well have been getting a massage on a Hawaiian beach, as happy as I was. The heat, the idiot - none of it mattered, because last night, I got to see the greatest football club in the world - Manchester United!

My beloved Manchester United continued their North American tour, taking on the MLS team, Philadelphia Union. The match took place at Lincoln Financial Field, because although the Union has recently opened their own stadium, it wasn't large enough to hold all the spectators that attended last night's game.

My husband and I took the big guy, who at six years old, is already crazy for United. We live fairly close to Philadelphia, so we hit the road with the intention of arriving about an hour and a half before kick-off. As Murphy's Law would dictate, on our way there, we were stuck in some pretty awful traffic. As the minutes ticked by, and our car didn't move, I started to get very anxious. I had been counting down to this day for months and I couldn't believe this was happening!

We finally arrived at the field and got to our seats, with maybe 15 minutes to spare...whew! I certainly wish that we had been able to meander a bit and take our time soaking up the atmosphere, but we made it for the most important part and really that was all that mattered.

There were over 44,000 fans filling the stadium. Although the Union is in it's inaugural year, they already have some very dedicated (and vocal) supporters. Their group, Sons of Ben, was out in force, singing and chanting. Even though we were rooting for the other team, it was very encouraging to see that kind of support from Americans for an MLS team.

The match itself was a very fast-paced and exciting one. I don't know if United was playing down a bit, or the club's youngsters were still kind of feeling their way, but the Union definitely held its own. Philly had some great chances - while most were lacking a competent finish, some were only saved by the skill of our keeper, Tomasz Kusczak. United and the Union went to halftime, 0-0.

Finally, in the 76th minute, Gaby Obertan scored a sweet goal, and United was up 1-0. And while the Union continued to press and had one goal disallowed as offside, the game finished with my beloved Manchester United victorious.

As for me, had the Red Devils won or lost, it was an experience that truly left me awestruck. Being able to watch the legendary Paul Scholes and Ryan Giggs in action was incredible. Sitting in the stadium while my beloved club was working their magic on the pitch was as compelling as I'd imagined. I can't wait until the day when I finally set foot in Old Trafford. As magnificent as my experience last night was, I know being there will be most extraordinary dream come true of them all.

Five Years and Counting...

Five years ago today, I was living with my husband and the big guy at my parents' house. Our home was being remodeled and expanded, and we were staying with them during the construction. The day started much like any other. We were sitting in the family room, enjoying a little raisin toast, watching the then 18-month-old big guy run around, and following the "Today" show's continuing coverage of the previous week's London bombings.

As we (my mother, husband, son & I) were enjoying the morning, I started to get a ringing in my ears. It was not the normal ringing that everyone gets occasionally. It was so loud, it drowned out everything, the television, my toddler, everything. I started to panic and exclaimed to my husband, "I can't move!!" and indeed, I felt like I couldn't move my arms or legs. However, according to my husband, I was flailing wildly, thrashing all of my limbs about.

My husband called an ambulance and I was taken to the hospital right away. We spent the entire day in the Emergency Room where none of the doctors could figure out what was wrong with me. I was in and out of consciousness while they ran myriad tests. They were reluctant to give me a CT scan to check me out neurologically, because I was too young for that type of ailment. Finally, at the end of the day when the doctors had exhausted all of their options, they scheduled me for a CT scan. Turns out I'd had a stroke with a cerebellar infarction, which had caused a clot in my brain.

I was pretty much out of it as they came to this diagnosis, and my parents were home taking care of my son. The neurologist and the neurosurgeon were at odds on how to treat me. The neurosurgeon took my husband into a utility closet, and basically said to him, "If we don't operate on your wife, she is going to die." My poor husband, he said he immediately wanted to call a 'grown-up' because he didn't know what to do. He decided to sign the consent papers and go ahead with the surgery.

To make a long story short, they put me into a medically-induced coma, performed the surgery to remove part of my cerebellum and I stayed in the ICU for about a week. While this was an excruciating time for my family, I barely remember any of it. The recovery wasn't too bad either. I was in physical therapy for about a month, and then I was released. I have a huge scar from the base of my skull to about half way up my head but that's it. I have absolutely no residual effects.

I would never, ever say I am glad this happened, but I am thankful for the awesome perspective it gave me, and how it demonstrated what is important. My family, friends, health, happiness are really all that matters in this life. It also really taught me that things I thought were so vital, like material possessions or petty jealousies, really aren't worth it.

So, five years later, not only going strong, but almost like my stroke never even happened. I never much thought about the phrase, "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger" until this. I'm happy to say I'm living proof.

Everything You Always Wanted to Know...

This post was inspired by a fellow blogger...she tagged me in a post she did revealing some of her life, and I remembered I had recently written "25 Quick Facts about Me" in another forum, so I'd thought I'd share them here...

1.) I could get lost for days in a bookstore.

2.) I honestly enjoy working out very much. I hate running, though.

3.) I am a deeply religious person. But, I don't hit you over the head with it.

4.) My husband is simply one of the best people I know. And I love him as much as I did when he came stumbling into my dorm room, wasted, the first night of college.

5.) There has never been a time in my life that I didn't think I needed to lose at least 5 lbs.

6.) I constantly worry about my sons' health. And their social skills. And their intellect. And whether they will be polite, won't hit, will go to college, etc. Parenthood is by far the hardest job I have ever, or will ever, have.

7.) I kinda want to be British.

8.) I love tweeting!! I was pretty resistant to it at first, but I've met some amazing people through Twitter.

9.) I am most terrified of failing as a parent.

10.) I LOVE television (I know, I know). But I reconcile this fact with the following: a.) for the most part, I dig 'smart' shows like Lost, and I loved Studio 60 and West Wing, and b.) I love to read just as much.

11.) My life is SO not what I'd imagined. Completely different, but infinitely better.

12.) My grandparents were both born in the very early years of the 20th century. I think of them on a daily basis and wonder how they would react to various forms of technology.

13.) I believe that it should be REQUIRED for everyone to watch What Not To Wear, and follow Clinton and Stacey's rules TO THE LETTER.

14.) I often wonder what my boys will be like as men.

15.) My dream vacation would be a trip around the world, capped off by a week in Disney World. There's nothing I would rather do more than travel.

16.) I miss DC (sometimes violently) and especially the people I worked with down there.

17.) I feel that grammar and eloquent speech are of vital importance.

18.) One of the greatest gifts my husband has ever given me is an appreciation and love for soccer and Manchester United.

19.) I dream of writing a novel, if I could just get over myself. And, find the time.

20.) I love being Catholic. Just going to Mass can make me feel better about almost anything.

21.) Looking back, I was a baby when I got married just a month after my 24th birthday. I would NOT change a thing, but I also would strenuously object if either of my boys wanted to get
married that young!

22.) I talk to my mother, my father, and my sister via telephone at least once a day, if not more.

23.) No matter how hard I try, or how closely I follow a recipe, I cannot cook to save my life.

24.) I am a straight-up, unapologetic girly-girl. I was a cheerleader in high school and in a sorority in college. I love hair, make-up, fashion, shoes, handbags, shopping...need I go on? I am convinced God gave me two little boys to offset this a bit.

25.) If you were my friend at any point in time, you're stuck with me for life.

Weathering Wanderlust

"I'm shakin' the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world. Italy, Greece, the Parthenon, the Colosseum..." -- George Bailey (James Stewart) It's a Wonderful Life

There's nothing in the world like the feeling I get when I know I have a trip coming. From the moment I book it, just the knowledge that I am GOING somewhere, anywhere, gives me a combination of stomach-flutters, body tingles and involuntary idiot-like grinning. I am big on countdowns; I love watching the number of days 'til I leave get smaller and smaller. I produce detailed packing strategy spreadsheets (this is very ME) and when I can actually put clothes in a suitcase, I get so excited that I nearly jump out of my skin!

However, since I became a mama, our freedom to travel has been just a little inhibited. With our first son, it was more difficult to get away, but we made it work. We took the Big Guy to London for a week when he was just ten months old. But as he got older, and Little Guy came along, it just became too difficult logistically to do it. Our travel destinations were rerouted to Walt Disney World. Make no mistake, though -- I love, love, love to go to Disney and I am truly blessed to be able to share my childhood memories with my boys. But we will have to wait until the boys get a little older to do the kind of traveling we fantasize about. Until then, I must patiently suffer through this wanderlust I have -- the voracious, ever-present desire within me to GO. SEE. EXPERIENCE.

'Weathering Wanderlust' is going to be a multi-part post. In order to deal with my temporarily postponed adventures (the aforementioned weathering), I am constantly dreaming of new places to go. This list is long, varied, and fantastic. I am excited to delve a little deeper into the culture and character of my dream destinations. And even more excited for the day my dreams become reality!

Soccer: Our Family Fetish

Last night was the final game of U6 Spring 2010 Soccer. This was the 5th season the Big Guy has played, the 5th season his dad has coached, and the very first time the Little Guy got to be part of the team, too. My husband, in addition to coaching the boys for two seasons a year, also plays in two different over-30 leagues. Indoor, all year round, and outdoor in the spring and fall. Myself, I am relatively new to soccer, but for the past six or so years, I've been slowly transforming from a vocal supporter of our favorite club to a knowledgeable soccer fan. By no means would I ever call myself an expert - I am definitely still learning. I voraciously read everything I can about the strategy and tactics, the current players, and the various coaches. We're fans of British football, but both my husband I try to keep abreast of the happenings in other leagues. It makes us delighted beyond words that our sons love soccer as much as we do, and that they are being raised to play, live and breathe it.

So, it's not unusual to see our entire family dressed exactly the same on a weekend - of course, we'll all be wearing Manchester United jerseys. It's not unusual for Fox Soccer Channel to be almost constantly on our television while not one NFL game is ever turned on. It's not unusual for us that the Big Guy has a Manchester United duvet. It's not unusual that Little Guy could say "Liverpool - blech!" since he was 2.

We are a soccer family -- it's our fetish, our fixation, our faith.

Now is the time...

"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world." --Anne Frank

Or yourself, for that matter!

It's been over 5 years since I made the transition from a working woman to full-time, stay-at-home mama. That transformation, it seems, would have been the interesting stuff to document in the blogosphere. How I adjusted to life at home, how being a first time mother to an infant affected me, dealing with financial changes, etc. So, why, five years later am I just starting a blog NOW?

Before I delve into my intentions, here is some background on me: In 2005, I left a promising, challenging, fulfilling career to stay at home and care for my one-year-old son. On one hand, it was an agonizing decision. I worked as a legislative adviser, employed by various politicians and lobbying outfits. I loved the fast pace of government, the rush I got when meeting important people...and the actual work was pretty interesting, too! But, on the other hand, none of it could compare to the little tow-headed boy who had captured my heart and soul.

So, I had a long talk with my husband, and luckily, he was incredibly supportive of the possibility of me leaving my job (and salary) to be with the little Big Guy full-time.

Fast-forward five years. Here I am, another son and half a decade of stay-at-home mama-ness under my belt. So why, now that things are settled and happy, am I choosing this time to begin documenting my reflections and ruminations?

The answer has a few dimensions. The biggest factor being: Big Guy started full-day kindergarten this year. Now, he's gone from 9am to 3:20pm. His little brother, Little Guy, is in preschool twice a week for two hours. That's not a whole lot of childless time, but this milestone year has definitely got me thinking. What happens when both boys are in school all day long? Will I get a 'real' job? How will I possibly be able to breathe being away from my boys from 9-5? Do I try to find something automatic and flexible, like Target or the like, so I can still be there after school and soccer games, etc.? Will that be worth the time away if I am not satisfied by the work?

Secondly, I miss writing. I REALLY miss it. Striving for excellent, persuasive and moving writing was a huge part of my job and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I hope that by writing this blog, not only will I provide myself with a creative outlet, but I can resharpen old skills that might (okay, probably) have gotten rusty during my child-rearing hiatus. If I do go back to a job in my old field, this will be especially useful!

Finally, since coming home, I've been wrestling with a lot of different thoughts and issues on a wide variety of subjects. I have lots and lots of thoughts about everything, everyone, everyday. Like, my "About Me" tells you, my whole world is kind of a study in contradictions. We recently moved to a more rural area from a bigger city. I hate that there are really no good restaurants around here, but I love the low crime rate and good schools. It's obvious I am conflicted about whether to go back to work. I probably think a little more about certain things than would a person with a job outside the home, but c'est la vie. I think about stuff, and now I can write it all down - the absolute best way to make sense of things, in my experience.

So here it is. I don't know if anyone will be interested in reading my random thoughts and out-of-the-blue ramblings, but that's okay. I've got a lot to say, even if I am the only one who wants to hear it!!