When do we start tracking the men?

I don’t even know where and how to start this entry. I believed I had closed up this chapter of my life. The public writing portion, not for any other reason than it felt like an echo chamber.

I can’t even begin to make sense of the hypocrisy of the last 10 days. I can tell you my anger has not subsided, my sadness has grown, and my patience has grown thinner.

I try to stay out of typing arguments but in the last day or so I couldn’t stop myself and as I pushed back on the person that has a different view than I do, I just simply want to understand why they believe their beliefs must be my beliefs or your beliefs.

So here is where I want the conversation to pick up; I am clearly Pro-Choice (choose what is best for you and your situation).

Questions that I need to have answered (not with theory or prayer or a verse or two), answered with real plans and outcomes.

1. When shall we begin forcing all males to be sterilized until they are “ready & willing” to be responsible caretakers of those eggs they are able to fertilize?
2. What is the standard length of time a male should spend in jail for failing to provide the female they have impregnated with pre-natal care, insurance, post-birth healthcare, and all other lifesaving necessities?
3. Shall we begin collecting all male DNA at once?
4. Create a nationwide database that tracks all men so as soon as those forced to carry a fetus will receive a very invasive and expensive pre-natal test can be run to identify the father?
5. How will we force them to be responsible considering our current systems are completely insufficient?
6. What will the penalty be for those donors that have impregnated both their spouse and they extra-marital partner? Not only are they breaking the law for responsibility of an unborn fetus they are breaking one of the 10 Commandments. Surely, that is a major moral failing that needs to be prayed about.
7. How will we garnish the wages of the man to ensure the care of the woman being forced to carry the unborn and the unborn? An unborn child cannot be claimed on taxes as the government does not allow this.
8. How will the insurance laws/rules be updated to show an unborn is no longer a pre-existing condition therefore requiring it to be covered by the male’s insurance?
9. How will our Foster Care systems manage the influx of abused and neglected children when they are under paid and under staffed now?
10. How will the department of education manage the influx of underserved children that will come from this change when current policies are pushing educators out of the field in droves?

Today, I sent off a few emails to local TV stations asking them to stop showing commercials about erectile dysfunction as it is now offensive considering if a woman is forced to complete a pregnancy against her will than men should not be able to continue to fertilize eggs when their body has decided it is no longer able. I encourage you to do the same.

I never thought I would say that I am grateful for the opportunity to have a choice some 30 years ago, but I am. My daughter’s will not have the same options at the rate things are going if they stay in the state we currently reside.

It is only a matter of time before they come for contraception, same-sex marriage, and more.

Voting matters, knowing voting records and platforms matter. May you never have to be in the position to note have a choice.

Landing at Another Crossroad

Two years prior to the beginning of my “public” writing I stepped into a new journey I helped pack up my oldest and send her off to her first semester of college. What I remember about that time is a feeling of excitement and anxiousness. I was at a place in life where none of my friends had been, however, this was pretty normal for me. Being a young mom also meant I was typically doing the “kid things” first without resources or support. This is not to say my friends weren’t supportive, just that most of them either were doing the same thing for the last time or not even thinking about it for many more years.

It was a weird time for sure. I was able to spend more one on one time with my youngest, gave the oldest time to learn in a somewhat controlled environment how to adult, and allowed me to adjust how I was parenting. Good and bad in many ways.

A few years later, I walked across the crossroad of the oldest moving into her own place, but still nearby. In 2017, I helped to pack up the youngest and sent her about 900 miles away to school and again, I was at a crossroad I wasn’t as prepared as I believed. I snicker now at the memories of whining about having to learn to cook for just one or two people. I have decided that I don’t love the label of empty nest. What does that really mean? I’m still trying to figure that out, in all honesty. Ultimately, my youngest came and went a few times between school and summer vacation, and COVID.

Last Fall, the girls decided to move in together (please read against my recommendation) 🙂 – they did a good job of learning how to coexist and in the end opted to not stay roommates at the end of their lease. This brings me to today; the youngest has returned to the state she grew to love after transferring to go to school there-West of the Mississippi River, the oldest currently en-route to a brand new city and state for her (also West of the Mississippi River. They are about two hours from each other and equally about seven hours from here and I am standing at a whole new crossroad, again.

I remember receiving so much advice when they were young (like under the age of 13), those teen years are just difficult and in my experience we often kept to ourselves to avoid the always judging eyes of the outside world. Advice was few and far between by the time we hit those young adult years and let’s just say it out loud; being the parent of a 20-something-30-something is the weirdest thing I have had to face yet. What I’m learning now is that I need to keep my mouth shut (this is really hard) and at the exact same time have all the adulting answers (which I do not have). I love that they are spreading their wings and also have a deep seeding need to make sure they have thought of all the things that could go wrong or need to be planned for-dang the Enneagram 6 in me.

All of this is happening in the middle of the cold, grey, ick of winter which makes it that much more difficult to see the sunny side of things. I promise I am really trying. This brings me back to that label of “empty-nester”. In this particular move, items have made their way back to the garage or the bedrooms upstairs for maybe in the future hopes of having space for it one day. There is nothing empty about it.

At the end of May, I will celebrate being in my house for 10 years. That was a crossroads too. I vividly remember many asking why I was getting a “big house”. I wouldn’t want all the space when the were out and living. It makes me laugh now as the garage holds the bicycles and the bedrooms hold furniture. I am obviously cheaper than a storage unit.

All of this is normal and strange and isolating. One minute I am so very excited for both of them and a few minutes later, I am so sad and just like when they were teenagers it is nearly impossible to seek advice or talk about it with others. It seems 2024 is going to challenge me to adjust, stretch, and grow in ways I have not yet considered. It’s not a fork in the road, it is just a new crossroad, not a wrong way, just a new way.

College + Mental & Physical Health

Today I was lucky enough to help a college student-athlete move back into school. This is not earth shattering but it did jog my memory and made me think of a few things we didn’t have a plan for when the girls went away.

While we had covered the obvious things like alcohol, drugs, assault, and studying we didn’t consider mental health resources or medical resources especially when our student was hundreds of miles away.

Why does this matter? If your student is 18+ you have very limited access to their healthcare and academic resources. This is a blessing and a curse in many cases. I mean the goal is to a raise self sufficient adult. However, if you are use to being deeply involved in their world it may be a rude awakening.

Thanks to the pandemic we learned about medical power of attorney so if needed we could be involved in decisions. This sounds scary, but the peace of mind it brought was worth it’s weight in gold.

We should have looked into therapy/counseling resources both in person and virtually . What and how insurance worked with the location of the student vs their home.

Finally, we should have made a plan for communication in general. Having constant access via text and or video calls was not a positive thing for us. In our experience technology made it harder to connect to the network available by always having the comfort/distraction of home right now.

Happy move in day for everyone in the midst of frantic packing. Here’s to a great first semester!

Vitamin D wins

It is a beautiful weeknight in June. I am so happy to be sitting on the patio completely enjoying the now.

I have to keep reminding myself to soak it all in. Take full advantage of each of these moments.

When I bought the house, I had dreams of the patio being a place for gathering and those dreams are coming true.

However, it was neglected for a long while and I am so grateful for the break in my life that affords me the opportunity to work at taking it back from the neglect. Not to mention the space in my life for a fantastic partner who is all in on all it.

I don’t remember a June where I wasn’t working 10-12-14 hours a day. This has been the very best wake up call for my mental and physical health.

The fresh air and sunshine are fueling me in a way I forgot existed. Sunscreen has replaced blue light blocking glasses and the music is playing louder than ever.

I’ve become the lady counting buds on the newly planted plants. I’m moving flower pots around like I move furniture and inside decor. I’ve had to limit my online shopping and remind myself it can and should be done in phases not all at once.

Ultimately, the sunshine is fueling me. It is drawing me out of the house and back into flexing the outdoor muscles that have also been neglected.

I’m off to make my next list and plan the spreading of the new rock that will arrive soon.

Now, where is the sunscreen?

When there is no plan

A May Monday where I am not rushing around like a crazy person. This is most certainly unusual and yet it is exactly what the universe knew I needed.

May of 2023 holds several anniversaries-the month I seem to get a new car, buy a house, change relationship status and with each of those anniversaries I had a series of plans for all possible outcomes. This is just who I am-I always have multiple options to fall back on and this time-I opted out with no plan to fall back on.

About six weeks ago I choose option 2 with regards to my current job. Option 2 affords me some time and flexibility to truly imagine what my future could look like. I want to be clear here-I love the company I left and I hope to see them continue to succeed. I have been restless, frustrated, and tired of the continuing down turn in client behavior not to mention the constant attacks on libraries in general. It was time…

This isn’t about the job stuff this is all about the lack of plan AND the concept of just jumping without a net. A concept that is completely foreign to me.

Personally I map out every pothole, road block, cliff, and stoppage long before I even consider the possibility of positive. I’ve come to understand that is part of my personality-neither good nor bad-just how I process. It also means I can often take the safest route to lessen the chance of the aforementioned problems.

When opting for the first choice in many, many cases I have also opted into the choice that may not bring me the most joy, comfort, or dare I say pleasure? It did however fill a requirement or an immediate need. Things like pay the bills, don’t make the parents angry, feed the young child, don’t be shunned. Those types of situations.

As I sit on my beautifully updated patio in this glorious end of May weather I have navigated six weeks of emotions. The first two weeks were basically like a vacation-I didn’t do much. The next two weeks were really sad and I felt very lonely. As I begin the leg of the last two weeks I feel hopeful. The sadness has moved to discernment and actually starting to imagine what could be next.

When I was saying goodbye to my co-workers nearly everyone of them asked what is next-an expected question and one I didn’t have an answer-for the first time ever. That’s when it hit me, for the last 31 years I’ve never not had a plan. No plan was not an option as I had to survive. From that moment in July of 1992 I have been in survival mode and today-May of 2023 I am shedding all of that survival experience and it is a lot.

One of my very first lessons has been how much of my life has been ruled by a calendar. I struggle now to know what the date is-how is that even possible? I promise it is possible to have no clue the date. Additional fallout is that I have also been driven by the seasonality of my job. The standard answer when receiving an invitation between April & July for the last 10 years was almost always-maybe-it will depend on the on-call/work schedule. So over time the invites stopped coming and the circle is small.

I’m very grateful to have a great partner to help me navigate this journey, a fantastic therapist, as well as the tiny circle to keep me positive. I’ve said many times lately that I’m really boring these days which is a good reminder that work/job can’t be the only thing in one’s life.

Sitting down and getting this into the wild is a step forward in my healing and workaholic behavior. Being a task driven-see the progress person makes a less than structured environment a true challenge.

I’ve labeled this period Summer Vacation (my first in 30+ years). While it’s easy to imagine sitting with my feet up and a cocktail in hand, I promise it isn’t that simple. What happens next is still a bit of a mystery but I finally feel up for the challenge.

A Deep Sigh

What a day. I didn’t expect to be so emotional today. I did expect to feel a sense of relief.

Four years ago I could not bring myself to watch the Inauguration events. We had been shown what type of person was taking over the duties of the office. A person lacking character, morals, and the ability to tell the truth.

As an avid news watcher, I’ve had to step away from the news over time as it was a constant borage of quoted lies and constant disrespect to those just attempting to do their jobs.

I’ve watched as cheers went up as the class bully made fun of those different from him or made him feel uncomfortable or disagreed with him. I’ve watched as many rallied behind the bully that celebrated assaulting girls and women. I’ve watched as many intelligent people I know started believing the lies, conspiracies that were normalized by the bully at the microphone.

Today, all the sadness, all the fear, all of anger came flowing out. One tear at a time. Today, the man that represents all those who may have struggled with a stutter or has been deemed as “not normal” took the lead. Today, I watched as a woman, a woman of color, a step-mother, a wife represented millions of women that not only look like her, but have lived lives similar to her upbringing. Today, as a collective we stood and said to the bully, you don’t get the last word.

Today, for the first time in more than four years, I wasn’t worried if children were watching the ceremonies on television. Instead, I was hopeful in what they were seeing, the Pledge of Allegiance in American Sign Language, a show stopping young Poet, music, and prayers all shared by Americans that look like America-a diverse and deep feeling people.

I’m blessed to work for a company that values diversity, embraces inclusion and pushes us to be involved with our communities. For this I am beyond grateful and feel the responsibility to be more vocal and more focused on how I can better serve as an ally for all.

Today, is just the first step in the long road ahead. Today does not erase the centuries of neglect, pain, repression, and all of the ‘ism’s. While I know the journey forward will be difficult, I am excited to be a small piece of the puzzle.

This evening, I feel my entire being exhale a very deep sigh. A sigh of relief, a sigh of the mountain of work ahead, a sigh of exhaustion that comes from the constant worry of what was coming next.

Wild Ride

This has been the craziest six months any of us has experienced, at least in my lifetime.

2020 started out adjusting to young one returning to her out of state apartment but not returning to classes. This was a good decision and just one more change for all of us.

A few weeks into the new year I boarded my first plane of the season to head to Pittsburgh for our yearly team retreat.

Chicago was the next stop for us to celebrate a big birthday for a dear friend. It’s highly likely that Chicago trip was the trigger for us.

February arrived and I could not have been more excited to pack my bags for a tropical vacation with my favorite. Six days of sun, surf, salty air, adult beverages. We could not wait! It was heavenly. About 3 days before leaving I was feeling off & blamed it on stress & getting ready to leave. We arrived at our International location on Saturday & I had picked up a “lovely” cough and headache, but I was not giving into it.

Fast forward, I was sick the entire time we were there, pushed through, lost my voice, slept under the palm tree water front. Exactly 1 week after returning home he had it too. The coughing, the aching the fatigue were all real. Kenz had it too. A good three weeks later we were all back on track.

March ushered in a 21st Birthday, stay at home orders & non-stop togetherness.

April was by far the most difficult to navigate for me personally. I love my kids and I love my space. I love my job and our company has been blessed with unprecedented growth during this time. The balance was seriously out of whack.

Just as I felt I might hit a stride, our generations civil rights movement began. It is so frustrating, sad, disappointing, disheartening, disgusting, powerful, encouraging, enlightening…it is every single feeling.

Here’s my soapbox for now:

• If you believe it is against your rights to be told to wear a mask, please don’t tell me what I can do to my body when it comes to choice. Trust me when I say a mask is must less “invasive” than a medical procedure that has zero impact on anyone but me.
• Wash your hands, wear a mask, keep your distance, love everyone, stop worrying about what adults do in the privacy of their bedrooms.

Summer 2020 has basically been cancelled when you compare it to others, but we do get more unscheduled family time, a slower pace to enjoy.

I’m not sure of the big picture lesson yet. But I deeply believe it is to be a vocal ally, stop being silent, stand up for those that need a voice and don’t back down.

Keep fighting the good fight

In 1999 I added a title, a label to my list of daughter, sister, mom, aunt, and friend. I added soccer mom. It was spring of 1999 when I was along for the purchase of the first set of cleats, shin guards, and soccer socks. I did not yet realize I needed an entire extra bag in the car for all of the other items not listed on any “gear needed list”.

It was a cold, drizzly day in early April 1999 when I bundled up the littlest at just about 6 weeks old to head to the first of many, many, many soccer practices for her big sister. At just 6 years old we were heading down a path that would include household names of Hamm, Chastain, Foudy, Scurry, Rampone. Back then we could only “watch” them play if we went somewhere that had cable sports. That 6 year old mid-fielder in the making was consuming everything she could about soccer.

I vividly remember the first time a pair of “boots” cost more than $100! I can still hear myself saving, you have got to be kidding me, $100 to smell that bad in just a few hours? No, just no. For the record those “boots” came home & were some of the longest lasting cleats she owned. I also recall many afternoons when the following conversation would take place:

MOM!! We have to run to Dick’s before practice!! We do not have time to go to Dick’s, what in the world do you need right now anyway? Gah! We have to, I need pre-wrap, I’m out of (insert a wide array of color options here). The cost of soccer cleats is only rivaled by the cost of pre-wrap, never used as actual injury pre-wrap under a tapped ankle or knee. Oh no, pre-wrap always for the hair, the headband of choice. If only it would have helped in the concussion department….

Weeknights & weekends were now scheduled around practices, matches, and team outings. We all gained friendships through the sport. We observed some really horrible sportsmanship by parents, coaches, and players. We observed relationships being formed, time management being learned, following instructions, and respecting others all playing out on each field. As the fields and teams got bigger, so did the feelings.

I remember watching the 1999 Women’s World Cup match for the very first time, with my very, very excited 6 year old. She was riveted by the pace, the fierceness and the teamwork. Thus began our soccer following. I remember the “controversy” that followed because, “gasp! Brandi Chastain ripped her jersey off in celebration.” Today, with my now 26 year old retired soccer player, we watched the 2019 team bring home the win, the 4th win for USA Women’s Soccer. We will now watch for days, likely weeks to come as this team will be picked apart for “their over the top celebrations.” Celebrate away ladies, you have earned every single one of them.

To the haters, I hope you are as outspoken when you see men in other sports grabbing their crotches & flexing their muscles in celebration of each touchdown, basket, goal, putt, catch, the list is endless. While you are all whining about sportsmanship & how “disgraceful” these “women” are, let’s talk about the domestic abuse and violence that is prevalent in most male professional sports. Oh, wait, is that crickets I hear? Yeah, thought so…

It’s okay, most of us are use to being “shh’ed” for speaking our minds, sharing our thoughts, and opinions. The difference in 2019, it is our responsibility to speak those truths, to continue the work those before began to blaze. I am of the generation whose father was boo’d for being a veteran. I am of the generation who realized that we are more than our past, bad decisions, and circumstance. I am of the generation that are raising our daughters and sons to speak up, speak out, live your truth and don’t be pushed around. I am of the generation that hopes to be the adult to look up, to be who we needed to see.

Several of the women playing in today’s final game are between the ages of both of my girls. I could be their mom. So for all of the retired soccer moms out there that adopt the next generation of girls I salute you! To all the retired sports moms out there, I urge you to stay active, find the next young lady that needs an extra boost. We all need the village, we need to continue to fight the good fight and teach our girls to play like a girl. It means you are a champion in your own life.

Thank you to the 1999 Women’s Team for lighting the fire in our house and to all the teams in between for keeping the fire alive. Each of you is a role model and this retired soccer mom is very proud of all of you.

 

Closing a chapter, Starting a new Volume

I’m in denial. I’m about to cross a new bridge, again. It’s a bit scary.

In just four days I close not just a chapter, but a volume in life. No more kids or teens living under my roof. Sister turns 20 in just four more days.

How in the sam-hill did that happen? I am very certain it was just a year ago we were sitting her in the sunshine to combat the jaundice. It was just 6 months ago we were sending her off to preschool-not for her second year of college. I just know it.

Then just a short 32 days later, Bug turns 26! 26 people, that is completely unacceptable on every level possible. It was just a few years ago she was on her way to half-day Kindergarten, then off to the big world of Jr. High. Next up, high school-how did we get to 26?

I’ve starting “writing” the next volume, Empty Nest. It is a real thing and AGAIN there is no manual. We are seriously letting each other down on a regular basis by not talking about these subjects and stages with anyone who will listen.

I was recently asked by a fellow blog writer what I found the biggest surprise to be about being an “empty-nester”. A great question and the answer(s) are painfully obvious and not shared (at least not that I had experienced). So, I am about to share, because someone is going to feel this too.

Surprise #1- Lack of Schedule:  I know what every one of you right now with kids/teens and schedules coming out of your ears is thinking. “Are you kidding me Tracy? I cannot wait to not done with this crazy schedule!!!!” To that I say, Yep, it was AMAZING for the first month or two, at least in my experience. It was like a vacation without having to spend the money for a vacation. I boasted regularly about my color-coded, highly-organized calendar. Everyone with their own color and column where one glance can tell you where/when/what to be wearing. Suddenly, there was only one color on the calendar, mine. The only place I “needed” to be was work, everything else was blank, very, very empty. There were no lunches to make, practices to plan dinner around. No weekends full of so many activities I had no idea how we would make it to all of them. Brace yourself, I didn’t have to get up three hours before my day at the office started because I was the only one getting ready, making breakfast, and getting out the door. I haven’t had that in 24 years. I know, I had “every other week” to get in a groove for nearly 10 years many of you may be thinking. Not really, while it is true that I may not have had to do all the above every week, while they were with their dad. I did still attend nearly every event, even those I wasn’t responsible for “delivering them on time”.

I’ve painfully realized how much I needed that schedule as much as the girls needed the schedule. I have failed miserably at finding a good schedule now nearly 18 months into this new world. I am still trying to find a routine.

Surprise #2- How boring it is to cook for one person: I have always enjoyed cooking, finding new recipes, and building a meal plan. I have never liked leftovers. This is a significant issue when having to cook for one. I have fallen into a horrible habit of eating just a couple of times a day. PLEASE know I KNOW this is BAD! I am working VERY hard at getting back into a better routine when it comes to food.

It isn’t all sad. It is exciting to see both of them grow into who they hope to be in the next stages of their own lives. 2019 brings what I believe to be the end of Sister being back home for any length of time, instead she will land here in between her next adventure.

I would love to hear how you are managing “empty-nesting”. Remember when NBC use to say Knowledge is Power, this is a prime example.

Here’s to forging ahead on a finding a better routine.

Some years are worth repeating, this was not one of them.

Adios 2018, I have zero desire to have a repeat of more than half of the year. No, I’m not exaggerating, not one little bit.

I have made it a practice to look back at each year and relish in the awesomeness of it all. However, 2018 brought a great deal of turmoil and scenarios I do not want to repeat, relive, or even review if I were being honest.

Four years ago I began the practice of sharing my successes in each month of the year. This practice was shared with me via a mentoring group I participated in for several years. While I am not directly linked to that group, I still participate in the practice of reviewing and sharing my monthly successes. Why was this so important in 2018? That is glaringly obvious sitting here on January 1, 2019, I needed to focus every single month on the celebrations, not the negative. In addition to the success reviews (via a photo style collage post) I write out the high lights of each month in my yearly planner. That alone is a little like free therapy.

While I have had less of a presence here on Saint & Sinner I have been pretty open about the water fiasco that dominated 3/4 of the year. I named it Water Palooza mainly as a way to attempt to find some type of positive twist in the never-ending event. I can say never ending as the second “event” has not yet been resolved as all the repair and replacement are on my dime and the time of those that are willing to help. The second event took place in early March 2018, so we are closing in on the 3/4 mark on that one too.

The bests part of 2018? Each of those would be directly connected to those I adore the most. The “senior” of my daughters transitioned into a new job very successfully, moved apartments, and added a rescue pup to her cat household. I was reminded that I allowed WAY TOO many hours of Disney movie watching as both her pets are named for the less well-known, unsung hero’s from The Emperor’s New Groove (Yzma) & Oliver and Company (Dodger) respectfully. The young one, moved home, then back to camp, then off to an all new state, on an all new campus, with a whole new major. She too, has thrived in 2018. She took on all that personal change head on and did well. The person I spend a significant amount of time with continued to spoil me with travel, adventure, and many, many laughs. We made a pact in the very beginning that we would not use the phrase, “I’ve never”, instead we use the phrase, “I have not yet”. This summer we set personal records for the most live music events for both of us. Between May and September alone we saw more than 10 outdoor shows. An eclectic list of artists and a lot of fun for sure.

2018 gave me an up close experience with anxiety and again, I’m not listing it as bonus. It does give me a better appreciation and understanding for those that deal with it on a daily basis.

2018 also included attending lacrosse, basketball, and soccer games. Spending important time with the bonus ones that are part of the important one’s life. I do enjoy being “out of retirement” when it comes to being a cheerleader.

I am still really not sure what I was supposed to learn from the upheaval of the past year and I have spent way more time trying to figure it out than needed.

As I type this evening, I turn my sights on putting together a much better 2019. I have written some goals, shared them with a small group that I trust to hold me accountable and those that care about my physical and mental health.

Here’s to making 2019 successful.

I suspect I will still panic at a sound that even slightly resembles water. I do plan to put my health back on the front burner rather than on the back burner. I also plan to do a much better job of not allowing the outside to overshadow all the good.

I wish the same to all of you.