We Think We're From Maine...

A couple weekends ago, Jack and I visited our awesome friends Vera and Mr. Vera. They're the perfect yin and yang of friends; Mr. Vera is also a hospital administrator and Vera is also a cook. Jack and Vera up the ante every meal, increasing the stakes and culinary difficulty of the chosen meal.

[The calorie counts also increase as the culinary bar is jacked up toward "gourmet excellence."]

Mr. Vera and I talk shop while the 'ladies' cook!

So this weekend was tremendous. The weather was perfect and the meteor shower was forecast for that evening. Since it felt so summery, we decided on a clambake.

These prawn:



Plus these lobster:



And these home-grown potatoes:



With pounds of Old Bay, became this:



And the home-grown tomatoes:



Became a caprese salad and completed our alfresco tablescape:



We always turn on the "Ella and Louis" Pandora station and drink good wine, toasting to a greater friendship. Except this time, sprawled out on our sea of blankets in the orchard, staring up at the meteor shower, my glass of cabernet from dinner fell over and spilled into the grass. The rest of the party thought it was hilarious that the wine dumped near my hair that I had hastily clumped in a bun on the top of my head. It became a wine-soaked bun and Jack wouldn't let me go to bed that night until I washed my hair- lest I stain the white pillow cases!!

Clambake 2012 with accompanying meteor shower was a stunning success (especially with the awesome iPhone app called "Sky Viewer"). And no pillow cases were harmed in the making of those memories!

Pictures with Words

It's been a while since I've updated Bloggoville with any regularly. Part of me hasn't felt like it. The other part was staying up too late and getting up too early to prevent my ever-growing mountain of work from consuming me like a big, green monster. Luckily, I'm learning more about where my career is going (and where it's not going) and on which projects I should truly focus. Or delegate. Or strategically procrastinate on because I'm not feeling it or not sold on the business purpose behind such projects.

Do you like that term, "strategically procrastinate?"

It's almost as good as saying Costco stores are the "cathedrals of consumerism."

[haha, right?]

So while work's been work and I continue to juggle a dozen beach balls, I have a better sense of where I'm headed. This is good. While I've been surfing the waves of conflict and stress, Jack's been keeping busy in the kitchen (while making me fat).

After we finished Mom's lamb cake from Easter,

Jack bought a couple packages of Puff Pastry. It's more like, "Puff the Magic Pastry." He made fruit tarts and the glistening finish comes from warm apricot jam that sets the fruit in place.

When Jack finished the tarts, he handed them to me on top of my latest HBR that had just arrived in the mail.

Which I thought looked hilarious. Steve Jobs points at the tarts.


Later that day, Jack whipped up a tailgate dream: Manwich and cheddar-stuffed Puff pastry.

Our day of Puff was amazing. Until we realized that puff pastry is 98% butter and each bite packs about 100 calories.

***************

While my fat settled, I returned to the treadmill of work and attended another Franciscan Leadership retreat last weekend. Quickly praying to God for a sign about my career, I slowly drove up the convent grounds and came face-to-face (face-to-car?) with the chairperson of our system's board, standing in the middle of the road.

God usually doesn't answer me like that. "God, can I have a sign?" "BOOM, here's a sign."

Except that I realized the chairperson was practicing her turkey calls, communicating with a broad (flock?) of turkeys on the hillside.

Hmm. Maybe I'm the turkey.

The retreat was INTENSE and one of our instructors, a professor from Harvard, graced us with 12 hours of upper-level Ecclesiology and the formation of doctrine and dogma. The retreat participants struggled through the material and my geeky self was in theological hog heaven with all the talk of the Magisterium's authority and infallibility.

[Just post an "L" on my forehead!]

However, I worked too late before leaving the night before the retreat and was in severe danger of being late to the convent. One must arrive before 9 p.m. or face being locked out of the grounds. I didn't have time to stop on the highway for a quick burger; I arrived at 8:58 p.m. that evening, sighing with relief and shaking with hunger.

In my room, rifling through my bags for any hint of nutrition, I stumbled upon a little bag of peanuts from Southwest Airlines the last time I used my luggage in January.

Hey, that 1 oz bag of nuts stabilized my blood sugar and shut my stomach up enough to sleep.

*************

Returning to the treadmill again, I resumed my discernment struggles and stress. Because of the retreat and family stuff, I completely forgot about the management bakesale sponsored by the hospital's leadership on Tuesday. Late Monday evening, I ran to a nearby gourmet bakery and picked up $20 worth of cookies for the bakesale.

I know, it's the epitome of sad laziness. But I do try to honor my word, even if it means a stash of storebought goodies. And my laziness did not stop me from digging into the box on my drive home:

Tuesday was rough. Rough enough that when I finally got into my car at 8:30 pm, I found this "card" from Jack, who snuck into my car mid-day to leave it for me:

And when I got home, I found a box on my porch. I looked closer and noticed it was from Lush. I thought to myself, "wow, did I order Lush in my sleep again?" Nope, it was my dear, amazing, wonderful, generous, friend, Nurse Starbucks, surprising me with a whole box of fun and smelly Lush stuff.

Between Nurse Starbucks' and Jack's gestures and three employees individually seeking me out to thank me for my work, I somehow made it through the week.

Plus, we cracked open a bottle of this last night:

It's a great feeling to survive a couple weeks like these and kick back with your hubby on a Friday night...just to conk out cold at 8:30, without even having finished your Manhattan!

Oh well, there's always next Friday night!

I'm grateful for my opportunities, my friends, and Jack. Thank you for getting me through this time (and for not yelling at me for buying store bought cookies!!)

Easter

I'm not sure what I want to remember most from this past weekend- time with family, the family time, or time when family was over.

To quote God (and Martha Stewart)- "it was good."

Easter's always a special time around here; the fasting is over, darkness turned to light, sorrow turned to laughter, and the celebrations begin. Easter's different from other holidays- the celebration is laced with joy and lightheartedness, witnessing to the fact that we don't have anything to worry about anything ever again. Technically, we're supposed to celebrate Easter for 8 days- sounds like a plan to me!

With all that's been swirling at work lately, I feel I've earned this four-day weekend. I took today (Monday) to relax in peace and do my own thing. But all I'm doing is sitting around, incredulous that the party is over and everyone's gone. My restful peace is more like loneliness- where'd all that family go?

Jack's mom came up to visit on Friday and accompanied us to the church services of Triduum on Friday and Saturday. The services were just beautiful and it was great to have Jack's mom with us. Then on Sunday, everyone made the drive to partake in Jack's Easter Extravaganza, a full Polish feast, complete with Italian appetizers. I'm always very intent on making sure everyone has a good time and sometimes, it makes the day go by way too quickly. My 8 month-old niece and I were the only two with today off, so I know why they all had to leave...but that didn't stop Jack and I from sitting out on the porch after everyone left, wistfully rehashing the great times we had this weekend.

Sometimes it's hard living this far away from our families. Usually we're fine, especially if we make the trek to SB to visit everyone. After the visiting, we happily get back on the highway for home, so grateful for our lives out here. But when they all come to US, it's different. When the last car's taillights disappeared beyond the curve in our subdivision, Jack and I looked at each other like, "wow, it's over? The party just started!"

I can see why Easter should be eight days long! We had enough food and candy to feed everyone all over again and joyous holidays like that SHOULD be multi-day celebrations. I also get why the Polish celebrate Dyngus Day!

Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to keep celebrating. I'm going to try and let the Easter celebration infiltrate (gasp!) even my toughest work situations and stressors.

Happy Easter!

Life is Good!

Some people say they're "shaking the dust off" when they step back and take a break. For me, it was "shakin' the sand off" since we just spent eight days in Florida. The salt air and sunshine cleansed me, facilitated great relaxation, and gave me time to reflect on how I can attack 2012 with gusto.

We had a WONDERFUL time with our family. Not really sure if we would want to kill each other or create lifetime memories, the trip went pretty darn well. You see, we did not want to have any unfulfilled intentions. My folks are aging more than I'd like to admit and I never want to look back and say, "Man, we should have taken that trip and we missed our chance." So we took the trip.

All the travel plans went perfectly, the temperatures were way above normal, and we crafted new traditions. Calm and relaxed on the very last night in Florida, I sat outside in the 73-degree evening and reflected upon the trip, adoring the colored Christmas lights wrapped around our balcony.



On December 22, my folks and Brady traveled to our house in Chicagoland. As our flight out was at 6:00 a.m. from Midway, we sought to avoid a "Home Alone" moment and set no fewer than five alarm clocks! We landed in Tampa and checked into our hotel in Treasure Island. We immediately found the nearest outside beach bar and everyone sampled blackened Grouper (the best fish ever). Sauntering along the beach that day, we all devoured the sunshine, soaking up as many rays as possible. Life was good.



The next day, Christmas Eve, we headed over to Anna Maria Island and checked into our beachhouse. It was just fantastic; a three-story house with a pool and five houses from the white-sand beach. At 82 and sunny, we hurriedly grocery shopped for Christmas dinners and hit the beach for more Vitamin D absorption. It was Christmas Eve and we were playing in the sand on a beautiful beach! Life was good!



Deciding upon midnight mass for Christmas, Jack created a culinary masterpiece of grouper, salmon, crab cakes, and mahi-mahi for dinner. Our beach house had a whole-house stereo system, so we piped in Christmas tunes to solidify the atmosphere. Before mass, we took a ride around the small island, admiring the Christmas lights. Mass was beautiful and we all paid closer attention to make sure we grasped that it was, indeed, Christmas. In sandals and capris, after having a Christmas dinner of mahi-mahi, we weren't sure it would feel like Christmas. However, it did. And life was good.

Per my vacation tradition, I awoke at dawn on Christmas morning to walk the beach (I get up early every day on beach vacations; there is just something magical about dawn on a beach). I arrived back home to cinnamon rolls baking in the oven and the whole family out on the deck, sipping coffee and lounging in the sunshine. Does it get much better than that?

Jack whipped up a prime rib for dinner and chose to sear it on the grill before slowly roasting it in the oven for several hours. He left the grill unattended and Brady and I, floating in the pool, noticed flames licking out the sides of the grill. Black smoke billowed! Unsure of whether to douse the grill in pool water or stand helplessly by, Brady yelled for Jack to help and I stood frozen in place, nervous about the buzzards circling overhead! They saved the prime rib, but it made for some interesting bird-watching!

Christmas Day was weird, though. Different. After my folks tired of the beach, we all relaxed in the pool and via speakerphone, we called each member of the family to wish them a Merry Christmas. After eating the wonderful-but-torched prime rib, we retired to the living room to watch "The Christmas Story." It's not Christmas without Ralphie. Life was good, though!

The rest of the week went by blissfully uneventful. We alternated between beaching, pooling, sightseeing, and dreaming up ideas to get the entire family down for Christmas 2013 (y'know, if the whole Mayan thing doesn't happen in 2012!).



OH, and we ate a lot. Scallops, shrimp, and fish, oh my! In addition to our usual favorites, we squeezed in two visits to Starfish Company (this really hole-in-the-wall of all hole-in-the-wall restaurants that cooks off-the-boat fish) afforded us our share of grouper and soft shell crab.



Mom put aside a breaded crab leg as a joke and not looking before he grabbed a "french fry," Brady unsuspectingly ate the crab leg. That's a picture I wish I had!

Jack and I did manage to steal away for a couple romantic lunches. We use these times to plan our lives and goals and reconnect for the craziness that is sure to find us in 2012. One of our favorites is Columbia, for their tapas and champagne sangria. True to form, we sat there in the sunshine, sipping sangria, and charting out our shared and personal goals for 2012.



Our goals are pretty similar...trying to take better care of ourselves and becoming the best versions of ourselves. All of our sub-goals cascade from those two primary aims. And, of course, to drink more sangria!

So vacation was pretty spectacular. Jack and I booked our next trip and already programmed the count-down app to tick off the days until we depart.

Until then, it's time to put our proverbial noses to the grindstone and crank out a lot of work the next five months. With Jack in school and me resuming grad school (first class is Synoptic Gospels!), it'll go fast. But we're ready to go and to make it a great 2012. Life is good!

A LONG Weekend

This past weekend ushered in a lot of emotions and feelings I'm not quite sure how to process. This post is more for me than it is you.

It all started on Friday, with the terrific retreat I had with corporate leadership. It actually takes place on the convent grounds and it's so beautiful. I woke up to the first decent snowfall of the season and after a couple hours of white-knuckled travel, I actually started to relax (cue the stress let-down migraine!). Our group of 20 from around the system will come together for two days a total of ten times over the next two years. I was honored to even be considered for the program and stoked when, after the opening prayer service, they collected our blackberries and iphones. They wanted us to unplug and they meant it!

[I went into a quick, sweaty panic attack for I hadn't put my "out of office" notice up on Outlook.]

The whole point of the program is to get to know your peers in the group via classroom time together, communal eating, and fellowship. They're trying to make us stakeholders in the mission of Muppetville, so we continue the traditions in an era of declining religious vocations. I'm in so far over my head, as the youngest and lowest ranking in the group. There's one other younger woman in the group, who was on the Boca conference as well, and we're really bonding.

She rocks. She's one of those power women. And I will call her Ra. As in "she Ra."

The whole first day was used to break open the group and get people talking. Then we had a happy hour with a full bar followed by a stunning dinner with seabass and prime rib. The food was amazing and we intermingled with nuns and religious at meals (what was that vow of poverty? Does that not include prime rib?). Then I went where no woman has gone before...I played Euchre with the Mother Superior of the entire convent.

How freaking neat is that?!

But we lost. She was my partner and apparently her record is, like, 204-1. Make that 204-2! I hope this doesn't damage my chances of promotion within the system!

Seriously though, after Day 1, my head felt full and I felt so insecure. I don't have problems understanding philosophy and Thomistic roots of the Catholic liturgy, but I feel insecure because I have a mere fraction of the life experience of the others. I inwardly wondered what I could possibly have to offer the others in our group discussions. I decide that I wasn't going to self-select out and disengage, asking questions anyway. I think it's a matter of emotional intelligence; I'm still thinking about "me" when others are thinking "us."

Ra and I pow-wowwed for a couple hours Friday night and talked through our similar reactions to Day 1. I felt better after talking to her and we immediately agreed to put a standing meeting on our calendars where we could safely discuss our fears, questions, and victories.

I barely slept that night, keyed up from the day's activities and anticipating Zibby's wedding the next day. Day 2 of the retreat was better than day 1; we discussed metaphorical theology's interpretations of paternalistic models and paradigms and worked through philosophies of paradigm-shifts (that's fancy for "change management"). We discussed the history of monastic traditions and how healthcare evolved from those organizations. These utterly geeky subject matter excited me for my first theology class in my resumed-degree...Synoptic Gospels. I have a sneaking suspicion that this program and my classes are going to go hand-in-hand.

God has a sense of humor like that.

Anyway, I left the retreat and went straight over to my folks' house to dress for the wedding. Exhausted from the outstanding experiences and mind candy, I launched into adrenaline mode for the wedding. We arrived and I almost didn't recognize my brothers, Brady and Zibby. Both looked stunning. Both looked grown-up. And I felt old. Time marches on.

The wedding was pretty quick, albeit very nice, and Zibby married Libby. They're young, stupid, and penniless. But so were Jack and I when we got married, so I couldn't really cast stones at the young couple. My mom was a wreck and she squeezed my hand into numbness during the ceremony. Then Zibby asked Mom to dance during the mother/son dance and everyone in the family had red eyes as they swayed to "Unforgettable."

You know how some distinct experiences immediately over-write any preconceived memories you may attach to a song? That's how it was with "Unforgettable." It'll always be Zibby and Mom's song now.

As an afternoon wedding, it wrapped up early and my aunts and uncles hung around the hall, wondering when the party would start (like any good Pollack). A few of us shared stories and margaritas, trying to digest the fact that little Zibby is now a husband and father with his own family and home.

That night, Jack sacked out in my folks' recliner while Mom and I sat on the couch and listened to my dad and Brady rehash the wedding. Next thing I knew, I felt dad lightly covering mom and I up with a blanket and flipping off the light. I can't remember the last time she and I napped on each others' shoulders...probably when my grandma passed away some 12 years ago.

We knew we had to stay the night. It was Zibby's first official night out of the house. His empty room hit us all squarely in the gut. It was real. He was gone. And that was the first time I experienced empty nest syndrome...and I haven't lived in that house since I was 18! I couldn't even imagine the pain my folks felt with his absence. It felt natural to stay over and give them one more night with a full house.

In my mom's words, a full house is a full heart.

And so we stayed.

The morning came quickly and Jack and I departed for our own home. The weekend left me unsettled and uniquely overwhelmed....yet, oddly at peace. It was as though one chapter is ending and another beginning.

And I'm going to be okay!

Irene and Brooke

So Hurricane Irene stirred up the news this past week and weekend. I couldn't wait to refresh my Twitter feed to see that the NY Times and Washington Post were saying about the storm. It's a big deal to shut down a city as large as NYC; it was supposedly the first storm to hit them in 118 years.

I was impressed at Mayor Bloomberg's constant communication regarding disaster preparedness, closure of mass transit, and other safety tips for New Yorkers (I also subscribe to his feed). You can never be too prepared for storms.

That's been one of my newest pet projects at St. Fozzie's...reformulating and restructuring the disaster preparedness committee. We are located by several major interstates, within striking distance of a nuclear power plant, near a major airport, and blizzards and bad storms are nearly commonplace. Something bad WILL happen, it's just a matter of when.

Just like last week when, spying the churning skies as I dashed from one meeting to the Disaster Committee meeting, thought about the likelihood of storms lashing our hospital. As the Disaster Committee meeting progressed, the skies grew blacker and blacker and we all awaited the Code Black call via the pagers.

It never came, but it was still heavily ironic that the storms hit during our meeting.

Storms and weird weather pop up all the time and how weird was it that a hurricane hit NYC? I heard that women up and down the eastern sea board named their babies Irene when the low pressure of the storm induced labor.

Speaking of labor, my little brother Zibby and Libby had their baby this weekend. The poor girl was a week and a half overdue and we heard that they were acting on all the old wives' tales' ideas of jalapeno food and long walks meant to induce labor. None of it worked and they found themselves at the hospital on Saturday evening, awaiting a Pitocin drip.

Sure enough, we awoke early Sunday morning to a text picture from Zibby of our newest niece. She's so cute and I cannot wait to meet her. I'm glad they named her Brooke and not Irene!

Congrats to Zibby, Libby, and Brooke!

Happy Birthday!

My newest niece was born this morning. Meet Brooke Avery!



She's *the* cutest baby ever.

We're Celebrating...

Jack and I celebrate ten years of marriage today!

It's felt like 2 hours...

...underwater!

Just kidding, Jack!

Our wedding was a three-day extravaganza. It started at noon on Friday with margaritas with my bridesmaids, rehearsal and rehearsal dinner; Saturday it was hair/nails/etc, nuptial mass, pictures, huge Polish reception; then on Sunday, Popravini (I have no idea how to spell that), where the families and wedding party get together to eat and drink the leftovers and watch the bride and groom open their presents. It's the Polish after party of all after parties, for what is better than fried chicken and noodles after a night of dancing in high heels? Without getting all "Father of the Bride" on you, I remember it all so well.

When I look back at our wedding pictures, I ask, "Who let those two kids get married?!" I also think, "Wow, was my hair really that long?" And, "how did I fit into that dress and BREATHE?" And, "Gee, Jack sort of looks like an Eastern European Keanu Reeves."

I married my own Keanu.

Marriage is tough. Anyone who tells you otherwise is delusional, lying, or not married. You make a choice, every day of your life, to respect your spouse and make decisions for the good of the team.

Jack and I were seriously just kids when we got married. We knew we'd grow up together and it would be rough going for a while. But we focused on the long term and over the past ten years, came up with a few rules by which we abide:

1. Pick your battles. If you're going to fight, make sure it's worth your time.
2. Remember that we're a team. It's us against the world.
3. Do one thing each day that makes the other's life a little better or easier.
4. Collect experiences, not things.
5. Let the other know when you are seeking advice or just want to vent.
6. Challenge each other on personal/emotional/spiritual development.
7. Be those cheesy people who toast each other.

We're not perfect, but we definitely still have a great time together.

One of our life goals together is to be that old and gray couple in the newspaper, celebrating a 50th or 60th anniversary. So far, so good! Here's to marriage (clink!)

That's What We Do Here

Christmas and Easter hold a particular sentimental religious meaning for me (for obvious reasons), but my two favorite secular holidays are Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July. Granted, both are rooted in thankfulness for our current state of life in the good ol' U.S. of A, but aside from thanking God for our freedom at the onset of the day, we spend the days eating.

And hanging out with family. 'Cuz that's what we do here.

The Fourth of July is great because it usually means a long weekend with friends and family. This year, for instance, we were in SB Saturday and Sunday for what can only be described as the Pool Fest 2011. I didn't really need any clothes except for my bathing suit and towel.

Does a towel count as clothing? Absolutely, when that's your "cover up" when eating flame-grilled burgers, corn on the cob, and berry shortcake or playing cornhole between pool escapades. That's just what we do here.

Saturday was a momentous occasion for Jack. He met his dad for the first time in sixteen years. We took Jack's dad and his wife to dinner and it was nice catching up with them. A three-hour dinner does not exactly make up for sixteen years, but at least it's a start.

Anxious for some craziness, Jack and I crashed Brady's party on Saturday night. Brady has had the same friends for his whole life and I knew these boys from when they all played t-ball together and I served as umpire to call their balls and strikes. It was fun seeing them again. My cousin and his girlfriend also came and we hatched a plan to get the entire family to Florida for Christmas by 2015. Because that's what we do here!

Yep, July 4th is a fun holiday. Jack's family joined our festivities this year, as did Zibby and his fiancee, Libby (now that she's in our life for good, I guess she's due for a cool Just Keep Swimming nickname). Jack's brother's children were there and they were CUTE in the pool. That whole experience made my folks (SkyBlue and Lou) excited for Zibby's baby who will be big enough for some pool action next summer. Heck, it made us ALL look forward to the three <5-year-old's we will have at the party next year! We had a great time together and with all the food and games afoot, we went home tired puppies.

Arriving back home in Chicagoland, Jack and I had the delight of watching thousands of dollars of other peoples' money explode in the sky. Quickly throwing our bags inside the house, we rushed to spray ourselves with DEET and sit in our driveway, watching the horizon brighten every second or so in a different direction. We didn't know where to look next. I guess that's the perk of living in a county where fireworks are as legal as beer and people buy them (beer and fireworks) in equal quantities. Aside from it sounding like a war zone, it was fun. I went to bed reading David McCullough's 1776. 'Cuz that's what we do here.

And the weirdest part is that, after two entire days without my blackberry on my person, I felt refreshed. I felt ready for work. So today, on July 4th, I'm working on a business plan for a new clinic at the hospital. With a cold Heineken beside me because, after all, it's a holiday. You got it--that's what we do here!

Happy July 4th.

Memorial Day to Remember

I just love three-day weekends. I get my usual weekend plus one bonus day on which I goof off without any inclination of time wasted. So I worked on my ethics paper on Saturday (it's tedious, boring, and I have to learn an entire new style of citation, the Chicago Manual of Style, 15th edition). After about 6 hours in the Land O'Ethics, I looked at the weather radar and saw huge rain heading our way. Quick! Must abandon ship and go for our daily walk!

The ethics paper has sat untouched since then. Oh well, there's always next Saturday! It's due July 1, so I have a feeling I'll be working around the clock June 29-30th!

This weekend was/is the polar opposite of last year. Last year, we had just sold our house (for the first time) and escaped the stress by going to the beach two days in a row. Our lives seem so calm, predictable, and, well, structured compared to this time last year! That's the fun part about holidays, reflecting on your progress since that time last year.

Since Sunday was this three-day weekend's goof-off day, we went to SB to visit my family. We haven't seen them, really, since Christmas. My folks *do* American holidays, in all their burgers-and-potato-salad-and-deviled-eggs-and-apple-pie glory. So picture us all, hanging out on the deck, when the tornado sirens sound their eerie, high-pitched ring. Ah yes, the joys of severe weather in Indiana! Not only did we MISS the end of the Indy 500 because of local tornado warning coverage, but our BBQ was ungracefully interrupted by the sirens going off five times and crazy storms that lasted all of 10 minutes.

It was the stuff of memories, I tell ya!

In other news, I met Zibby's girlfriend for the first time. It's no longer a shrouded family secret that Zibby's having a baby and this was our chance to haze, I mean, get to know, Zibby's girl. They're not engaged or married (my religious parents LOVE that fact) but they are keeping the child. They did the right thing by respecting the child's right to life, but it's been tumultuous (to say the least!) for the family. It was rather ironic (and apropos) that Zibby bring her to the family gathering at the height of the tornado warnings...nature's storm outmaneuvered any family weirdness. She's due August 18th and we just found out about this wonderful miracle in late-April.

So how about them apples? It's changing the dynamic of our family (in a good way) and actually shifting the spotlight from Jack and me and our family situation.

We stayed until early evening and rushed back to Chicagoland to enjoy the waning sunset (always prettier after immense storms). The both worked this morning and are heading to my friend Vera's house for a holiday BBQ this afternoon. Vera and her husband are gracious hosts...and they have pyromaniac propensities toward bonfire construction! S'mores are always in order at Vera's.

I hope your Memorial Day weekend was wonderful, non-stormy, and full of good times!

Coping

I've been in a strange state of disarray today. Jack and I spent exactly 23 hours in SB over Thanksgiving and managed to visit with four different sides of the family. In one word, we're, well, spent!

Thanksgiving was wonderful. It's always been one of my very favorite holidays. But something was a bit off this year. My routine was upset and I'm definitely feeling it.

First, we had to drive 3 hours Wednesday night to get back to SB (in bad weather and awful traffic, I might add), we stayed at my aunt's house overnight, and visited my mom for a scant few hours (when we usually pass out into turkey comas by the fireplace and end up watching Christmas movies into the evening when we break out the leftovers for grazing purposes). After visiting with the cutest niece and nephew in the world and our other family, we had to hit the highway. While Jack and I did fit in a viewing of "Polar Express," we headed to bed so we could go to WORK. I think it was the first time in my adult life where I didn't A) hit the mall at 4 a.m. for Christmas shopping and B) relax all weekend. This is the first time I ever worked the day after Thanksgiving.

Don't get me wrong, it was a much-needed work day. I dug out of my piles of accumulated work and will start Monday with a clean slate. But it just seemed weird to avoid the stores, sales, and ads in lieu of working a normal work day.

The other part of it is that, for the last 9 years of our marriage, I have always put the Christmas tree up on the day after Thanksgiving (or, at least, that weekend). Since we're moving in two weeks, that's a futile action and instead of unpacking the Christmas decorations, I'm packing up the rest of my stuff!

With the expense of the house, closing costs, and the large down payment due, we are scaling way, way back on Christmas this year. Our family and friends have been sympathetic to this and everyone's pretty much agreed on a one-year hiatus for Christmas gifts. While this has taken a large seasonal stressor off my plate, I feel as though I'm missing out on something! I feel as though I *should* be fighting the hoards of people for whatever the must-have items of the season are. It must be a strange twist of guilt. I feel bad I cannot purchase gifts for everyone I love this year, but I just cannot justify charging gifts. Plus, the season's not about gifts. It's about giving. And Jack and I are exploring other ways to give this season. It's actually quite liberating (I think)!

I am trying to embrace this new perspective this year. Nothing has been easy, quick, or painless this past year; what's one more challenge? Maybe it will give us more incentive to focus on Advent, too.

Despite my seemingly tough exterior, I am a softy for holiday traditions. I decided I will still put up a Christmas tree and decorate our new house...but I'll just leave the decorations up through Epiphany (instead of tearing everything down on New Year's Day, per my usual routine!). Just keep coping, right?!

T'is the Season

Regardless of my stress and ever-changing job, I have much, much to be thankful for. While trying to relax over the weekend, I thought of this list. I'm thankful...

1. For my faith. I have so many days where I feel as though I'm on the last cusp of sanity. My faith keeps me grounded and I know I can always call on God to recenter myself. Plus, it just helps when your surrounding leadership team all subscribes to the same faith tradition and you know God's somehow sustaining us all. Somehow...between all the trucker brew coffee and Red Bull!

2. For Jack. Jack's still adjusting to his new career, but he still takes time to support me, talk me off ledges, and most importantly, make me laugh. I hope everyone has someone in their lives who makes them laugh! Thank you for everything, Jack. I still can't believe I married that nerd in flannel who sat across the room from me in youth group! :)

3. For my family. Despite my crazy dreams and ambition, my family still always supports me. They put up with me working insane hours and seem to understand when I do need help. Many of my family members offer unconditional love and acceptance, good things for anyone to have....oh, and they supply me with homemade baked goods.

4. For my friends. You know who you are. Most people have good friends, but I have hit the jackpot on this one. I have several friends who would do anything for me and I would do anything for them. In short, my friends put Carrie Bradshaw's foursome to shame. Plus, they wouldn't steal my best heels!

5. For my job. I'm grateful for my career, its advancements, and the opportunities I receive at work. Regardless of my stress, I am grateful for my job each and every day I walk through the front doors of the hospital. It's easy to take any career for granted, but in this economy, I'm grateful just to have a job.

5. For the other awesome opportunities I've had. Yes, I've been able to travel and experience a lot of neat cultural events, shows, recitals, musicals, theatricals, etc. But I'm especially happy for the 'carpe diem' attitude I cultivated from somewhere. From my life experiences, I am acutely aware that life is short and we need to live the best life possible. As a result, I've worked myself to death at work, lived the heck out of each weekend, and am proud to say that I live each day as though it's my last. Y'know, just like in the words of Nickelback in "If Today was Your Last Day."

6. For those who take care of me when my body breaks down. Because I do push the envelope often (frequently? always?), Jack sometimes has to put me back together when I fall apart. Others do, too. Like the lady at Midway Airport who made me a yummy, comforting hot chocolate with hot milk when I was flying with a terrible cold. Or my assistant who, when I was sick, set hot water, a tea bag, and two packets of honey on my desk in my office. Or one of the other executive assistants who can tell when I need a strong cup of coffee in the afternoon at work (sense a theme here?)

7. For the knowledge that life is a journey and that I don't have to be perfect yet. While I'm achieving a lot at work, it's definitely, most definitely taking a toll. I'm grateful that I don't *have* to have this all down yet; that I have the rest of my life to perfect what I'm doing, where I'm going, and why. And yes, I have to keep reminding myself of this fact. Actually, can you help remind me, too?

That's the greatest realization...that none of us have to be perfect at this thing called life.

Now...where's that turkey?

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year with the five F's. Great, homemade food, family, faith, football, and fire. It's the one holiday my mom lights the fireplace and we have the ambient warmth of a Norman Rockwell scene...until the women get too hot from cooking in the kitchen and can the fire!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!

Quick Takes, Vol. 8

1. I am preparing to attend another conference this week, this time I'm going to Sg2 to learn how to "do" strategic planning. To this end, I'm planning how to get a week's worth of work done in two days.

2. To weed through said stacks of work, I went into work on Sunday (breaking my own law about this...and probably God's, too). It was quiet and I was deeply focused on my ROI and plan for accountable care organizations within Chicagoland when Cookie Monster (our CFO) came by to say hi and scared me to death. Right when my heart rate returned to normal and I again became engrossed in my work, Sister Lourdes knocked on my door, again making me jump out of my skin.

Guess none of us keep holy the Sabbath!

3. My folks, Skyblue and Lou, visited Jack and me in Chicagoland yesterday. We completed a three-mile walk for the American Heart Association, then feasted at Joe's Crab Shack, and then shopped, shopped, and shopped. I think the distance we walked at the Heart Walk and in the stores sort of, kind of counter-balanced the heart-clogging saturated fats in our crab pots and fried fish? Hey, peace, love, and crabs!

4. We watched ND defeat Boston College on the football field. That victory, in itself, is newsworthy!

5. Jack needs several hundred dollars' worth of dental work done (what can I say?) and I just discovered a health savings account that we started for Jack years ago. This account covers Jack's dental extravaganza. I cannot tell you how excited I am about it!

6. Last, Jack and I are going to a movie tonight. The candidates are "You Again," "Wall Street," or the "Social Network." I'd like to see all three, but have a special place in my heart for Betty White. It must be that former Golden Girls love of mine!

Afghanistan

{As written from a deck, under a gracefully-swaying weeping willow, in the 93 degree breeze, while Jack's at the White Sox game!}

This was certainly an interesting four-day weekend.

I started off the weekend by routing through Michigan City on Friday morning, clearing out the holiday sidewalk sales to replenish my supply of suits, shells, and heels. I found great deals and happily succumbed to the retail therapy...in truth, the lining of my last good pair of dress pants fell out on Thursday evening and I wasn't going to pay $30 to have it replaced (not when new pants are $39 on sale).

I digress!

Then I resumed my highway travels to SB, where after running a couple errands, set up shop at SkyBlue and Lou's house. SkyBlue and I floated around all day on our respective rafts, relishing the hot sunshine and cool, turquoise pool water. The guys joined us in the evening, Jack after his last official day at the Crayola Company, Lou after work, and Zibby and Brady after their shifts. Jack whipped up a Food Network feast on the grill and Brady retaliated by drinking the house's supply of alcohol, in delayed celebration of his 21st birthday.

Saturday was nearly an exact carbon copy of Friday, pool-and-family-wise. Mom D joined us for cookout and after a few heated rounds of cornhole, we basked in the pool. The pool provides the forum for uninterrupted family gatherings...none of us talk to each other nearly as much as we do during pool season (particularly over holidays). When the snow and winds of winter arrive with their chilling vengeance, we all reflect back on those hot, lazy pool days.

Jack and I, exhausted from Friday and Saturday in the sun, headed for home (read: "home" now defined as Chicagoland). Upon exiting from the Interstate, I crested the exit ramp and was greeted by a fabulous display of fireworks on the horizon at dusk.

Upon turning down our street, we discovered the world's largest block party in progress. The house on the corner had a band (a good band) and must have spent thousands of dollars on those huge shell fireworks. From the comfort of our deck, we bopped along with the music and enjoyed perfect, front-row seat for the fireworks.

On Sunday, after our usual church/brunch combo, we returned home to relax on the deck and read our respective novels. I just relish the emotional freedom of an unscheduled day. After a few hours of reading and hanging out together, we ambled down to the town festival (smaller version of 4H fair) and our church's beer garden. Sparsely populated, we instead opted for a dinner out together. On the way home, again at dusk, we were treated by the hundreds of top-quality fireworks on the horizon.

Now, since we live on the IN/IL border, illegal fireworks abound. They are illegal in IL, so Chicagoans come to the northwest reaches of Indiana to satisfy their illegitimate firework desires. As a result, everyone has access to the stellar firework supplies.

We took advantage of everyone else's willingness to spend their hard-earned cash on exploding packets of gunpowder. At dusk, after leaving dinner, we parked at the local high school and sat on the hood (it was so 1986!). The fireworks were so plentiful that we didn't even know where to look. I could continuously scan the horizon and see dozens of displays. All those displays created such noise pollution with the "bang, pop, whiz, eeeeeeeee, bang, bang, pops" that we felt like we were in Chinese firework testing facilities.

Or, you know, some place like Afghanistan!

It was a memorable experience and while we wanted to go downtown and watch Navy Pier fireworks, we figured we could do that anytime (since NP has nightly fireworks).

It's quite bizarre to be away from our families on holidays. I couldn't imagine my friends in Florida, Texas, Iowa, or North Dakota, who are unable to drive home and see their families on a whim. Nonetheless, Jack and I are far enough away to redefine ourselves, dive into our careers, determine what we want to do with our lives, and assert our newfound independence...on Independence Day!

No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem

I'm throwing the pager away, powering down the laptop, burying my blackberry, and hanging up my suits for four whole days.

And I'll be in a bathing suit for at least three of those four days...and at a Sox game on the fourth day. Wahoo!

Happy Fourth of July!

Twinkies and Mind Ball

Brady and Catie (Brady's girlfriend) visited Chicago a couple weeks ago and wanted to crash at my place (separately, of course) so they could see more of Chicago the following day. We took them to Gino's for a pizza feast on Friday night, humiliated each other with some Wii-ing, and went back downtown on Saturday morning for a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry.

Brady and Catie had never visited the museum and Jack and I hadn't been there since childhood. Yes, many of the exhibits are geared toward children, but it was fun to play and explore like kids.

The weather exhibit was really neat and they create a 40-foot tornado. Brady and I have always had irrational tornado fears and we were both transfixed by the tsunami exhibit on the other side of the tornado. I think Catie was a little bored by the weather, but she perked up in the nutrition exhibit. Did you know that several chemicals used to refine petroleum are also used as preservatives in Twinkies?

No, that doesn't ruin my taste for Twinkies, either!

The human body exhibit was great; it separated all the major systems. The nervous system made me feel nervous as I realized that the spinal cord is really just a highway of nerves that doesn't have all that much protection from the outside world. There's no "cord," only a mass of nerves that really should be bundled up with those little zip ties that computer technicians use to bundle computer cords!

The neatest exhibit was Mind Ball. Mind Ball is a Race to Relax. That's my kind of sport! Competition to relax! There is a 3x5 foot table and two contestants sit at opposite ends of the table. Each person dons a headband that measures the electromagnetic waves created by your brain. It transfers the brain waves, as electricity, to the ball in the center of the table. The more relaxed you are, the more you "repel" the ball. Whoever relaxes most (and decreases their brain waves), pushes the ball to the opponent's side and the opponent loses.

Relaxation slows your brain waves. Worry and concern make them faster. High-level critical thinking and problem-solving apparently make them super-sonic. I thought laughter would engage the brain and make brain waves faster, but Jack argues that laughter would slow the brain waves.

I think he was just trying to trick me...by making me laugh, he would have made me lose!

We couldn't try the Mind Ball game because (ahem!) of all the kids milling around, but it's definitely a concept I like...competing to do the best at relaxation!

ADD Discourses

For your entertainment, I present you with another round of randomness spewing forth from my brain (a brain with ADD, I might add):

1. A brief discourse on Facebook: In short, I'm thinking about giving it up. It's a drama-creator and time-sucker. If aliens wanted to take over the earth, they'd just friend everybody, take over their profiles, and assume our identities through our online profiles. Okay, it's not that bad. What bothers me is the sheer time and thought people put into this. And for what? When are you going to look back on the 392 hours you recently spent on FB and say, "Oh, that was even better than the time I went snorkeling in the Cayman Islands!" My other beef is with status updates. I do this myself...when I think I have a status update worthy of gracing my 220+ friends with, I repeat it in my head several times to make sure it is communicated well (lest I have a typo or grammatical error!). I even think about the audiences represented in my "friend" base and quickly assess whether the status would offend anyone. I wouldn't have wasted the mental cells on this dilemma in the pre-FB era.

2. On the necessity of frequent vacations: As one who's been blessed with almost more vacations than I can count, I'm at that point in my life where my body, mind, and emotions are threatening to crack apart like grains of sandstone. I've been pushing myself harder than I ever have before and the uncertainty of my life situation is grinding me to a pulp. While it's only a couple weeks until we leave for a gloriously relaxing vacation, my mind is already transporting me to a land of sunshine, sunscreen, ocean waves, pool frolicking, and frozen margaritas. On Thursday (am a bit ashamed to admit this), I sat in a big executive meeting and planned out the rough agenda of our vacation and, more importantly, which sundresses I want to pack for the trip. I think it's my brain's defense mechanism. If it shuts down and visualizes chaise loungers and fluffy beach reads, it won't crumble. Plus, I get to go on vacation with Jack and spend an entire TEN days with him!

Of course that meeting was important. But I'll have to check the meeting minutes to see what was discussed! Wait, I think I'm responsible for that meeting's minutes!

3. On the forgotten "coolness quotient" of my family: on Saturday night, SkyBlue and Lou hosted the First Annual K'vas party. K'vas, for you non-Eastern-Europeans, is sauerkraut soup and it's pronounced "Ka-vass." It sounds worse than it is; it's actually a soup made with ham and kraut juice. Line your bowl with polish egg noodles and you're set. We all grew up on this unique soup and through marriage (and repeat exposures), Jack even relishes K'vas.

Since SkyBlue didn't make K'vas all winter, she offered to make it this weekend before it got too warm outside. Sensing the opportunity for a party, she invited everyone over...Mom D, my aunt, Zibby and Brady's girlfriends, and of course, us. So it was a fun party that was highlighted by the Wii and Wii Resort. Have you tried the canoeing game on that? It's HARD. After doing our usual run at 100-pin bowling, everyone tried canoeing, cycling, and even basketball.

I woke up with sore shoulders and arms on Sunday morning; now I remember why!

4. On the realization that this, too, shall pass: I worked 14.5 hours today and I keep wondering if my body will ever adjust to these long days (yawn...taking 5 seconds to swig warm milk to counter balance the Diet Mt. Dew. In fact, is it bad when your dinner meeting runs so late that you are actually starving when you get home and eat a second dinner? I'm just sayin'!)To cope, I'm still reminding myself that this crazy time in my life isn't going to last forever. In fact, I will look back on this time with nostalgia and gratitude, that I survived and sometimes flourished in the process. Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And whatever does kill you, well, you can probably sue them for medical malpractice or negligence!

Easter Hangover

I had one of those days where I felt like I was moving through cold molasses and all the coffee (and Diet Mt. Dew) in the world couldn't caffeinate me out of my stupor. I felt like the undead, staggering through the hospital corridors from meeting to meeting, trying to feign, y'know, LIFE.

Yep, holidays will do that to you. I think the official term is "holiday hangover."

It wasn't the prep work that killed me. It was the carbs. I had no less than five pounds of noodles, potatoes, lamb cake, and Cadbury's. Oh, and let's not discount the kielbasa.

Oh, the kielbasa. Let me pause to go grab some Tum's.

The saga of the lamb cake continued, as my mom's lamb cake-baking was not quite as successful this year. They were wonderful, but looked a bit different:


Totally worth the calories! And yes, that's one black sheep and one lamb torso. Apparently the head rolled off the white lamb while my folks attended Easter Vigil. The toothpicks give them a Dante's Inferno look, no?

While yesterday's Easter celebration was fun and informal, the food left nothing to be desired. The company was delightful, the weather beautiful, and we felt blessed to celebrate a holiday together, in what will be the last major holiday in our SB house.

Cue the nostalgia!

I had a hard time leaving SB after the Easter festivities ended. I stalled and wandered around and cleaned some things and stalled some more...it didn't work. I still had to load up my car and drive back to Chicagoland.

The dreadful feeling in the pit of my being only served to confirm our correct decision to list the house. It's time. And it's no longer a secret. I cannot take too many more weekends like this, where I have an amazing time with my family and friends, celebrate the core truths of my faith, nosh on a Polish feast, and then....get back in the car and drive 100 miles to the Land of the Lonely!

I PROMISE this is the last yucky, nostalgic post for a while. I will choose to return to my sunny and usually optimistic demeanor!

Time to go pack!

On the Serious Side

I'm glad you all appreciated my April Fools Blog. What's funnier, is that I wrote that in February and forgot it posted until Mom D called to ask Jack why I quit my job!

I typically hate April Fools pranks, but I couldn't resist this time. The last time I pulled a decent prank was about seven years ago, when I got up before Jack in the early morning. I bumped all the clocks up a few hours, went outside, and called him, shrieking "Get up! You must have overslept!!"

I think he scrambled out of bed and might have had 10 seconds of sheer panic. His brain is much more logical than mine; he knew that because it was still dark outside, that something was up. I didn't fool him (much) and it took me longer to fix all the darn clocks again! Lesson learned.

In other news, the last two days have just been glorious. With sunny weather in the 80's, I'm thinking I just might be able to handle life in the Great Lakes area a bit longer. Just when the well of my weather-fueled hope is running dry, we're graced with several days that buoy everyone's spirits.

On Thursday, I attended my second-to-last day of leadership training in Muppetville. We completed three assessments: emotional intelligence profile, DISC style of leadership, and Thomas-Kilmann conflict resolution style. I learned a lot about myself. Their premise is that you cannot really lead or mentor others until you know yourself. So I know myself. I know I'm on my journey of emotional growth (somewhere between organized and conceptual with work needed on empathy); I'm an optimistic, persuasive motivator who should temper the need for recognition and praise; and I exhibit competing and collaborating styles of conflict resolution.

Okay, so what does it all mean, Basil? I don't understand how these profiles make me interact with people at work and what I need to do to change my reactions or thought patterns. They gave us three more leadership books to read; I guess I'll be adding those to the growing stack of managerial literature through which I must wade!

The other big news of the weekend (of course, in addition to the Easter celebration and gorgeous weather) is that Jack and I put our house on the market. It's time to whisk away the security blanket and really start believing this is happening. Putting the house on the market seems like a huge leap of faith and I'm repeatedly struck with fits of nostalgia. "Oh, remember the time Sugar (ex-dog) leaped over the couch and hit that wall over there?" "Remember when we painted the living and dining rooms a light peach color and I said it was pink and made you cry?!" "Remember the first snowball fight we had in our backyard?? It was the first big snow during our tenure as homeowners and we played like children, gleeful that we actually owned that snow-covered backyard?" "Remember the bonfire we had, when everyone came over and laughed and told stories about stinky cheese and gross lunch meat?"

Things like that. Pardon me while I go get a Kleenex and wipe my eyes.

And the bonfire was just last night. It was a fun, spontaneous family gathering; the stuff of memories.

Selling the house, while good for our forward progression, is painful. It's been Home (capital "H") for years and when we move to Chicago/Indy/Lafayette, we'll have to make a new Home. We'll have to scout out the closest grocery stores, walking paths, dry cleaners, pizza parlors, and parishes. Even though I made that adjustment to my Chicagoland town, we'll probably have to do it again wherever Jack and I land. Really, it's an adventure. I keep reminding myself of how fortunate we are to have this chance to follow a job to a new city.

For the time being, though, I'm just going to do my best to live in the present and enjoy every moment I have both with my family and at Home.

O Christmas Tree

This past weekend was a blur...it was only on Wednesday, that I was looking out the window at St. Animal's, dreaming of shopping, outlet malls, and good deals. I could literally see the outlet mall from my window and it was driving me crazy. Talk about TAADD (Temporarily Acquired Adult Deficit Disorder). Luckily, my meeting ended at 2pm instead of 5pm, as scheduled. I grabbed a stack of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (hey, I needed fuel for shopping) and hit the mall.

Sales were found. Some Christmas shopping was completed. My work wardrobe expanded a bit. Teehee.

The next morning was Thanksgiving. Now, we have our weird traditions surrounding Thanksgiving...my mom calls me to "gobble, gobble, gobble" on the phone when she puts the bird in the oven. Then we rouse ourselves, revel in the Macy's parade, careful to sip our coffee without eating a morsel that might ruin a hint of appetite. We talk about what we're grateful for and then we break down the pop culture traditions behind each Macy's balloon.

Yeah, we're cool like that.

The only thing missing was the turkey aroma that saturates the air, making taste buds water with anticipation...and that's where I think we should invent a Glade room spray that smells like turkey. Yes, I know it would enjoy limited sales and would require low inventory, but it's still an idea that Glade (or Yankee) should entertain.

After dinner, I went to see Christmas Carol (3-D version) with Yoshi. The movie was great, if not a bit scary. But I still left the theatre with that Christmas glow. Usually we watch Home Alone on Thanksgiving night, but Christmas Carol fulfilled that requirement and instilled a bit of Christmas hope and charity. I found myself getting rather nostalgic.

Any movie that makes you re-realize hope, faith, and charity is definitely a keeper. So are memories you stir up as you decorate the Christmas tree and rehash stories behind each ornament. I'm really getting cheesy on this blog, eh? I don't care who you are, it's really tough to decorate your house for Christmas and then turn around and LEAVE IT for your cold, lonely apartment in Chicagoland!

At least my neighborhood is picking up the slack and tastefully decorating the porches....and I'm still debating whether I will run to MalWart and pick up a few decorations myself.