Our Need for Space

These aren't mine, but I would love it if they were!

Yesterday hubby David and I went out together to run several errands. As we parked in one shopping plaza, I noticed a pet store. The last time I had been at this plaza, Heather had said "oh, let's go see the puppies!" And we had, and it was fun. I am not a big pet store person - we have always picked out our animals at the Animal Protective League, but who can resist looking at puppies? So we went in, and each cage had 2 or 3 puppies inside. And they were so sweet. I noticed they were all lying on top of each other in their cages, even though there was lots of room throughout the cage.

And I thought I guess we're born with that desire to cuddle up with other creatures. And somewhere along the way, we develop a need for space. I know that I have a strong need for space. If people get too close, I think ok, that's enough. I don't ever say "you're a little too close," but I do have a friend who will tell people to step back if they are too close.

I have spent a lot of time with parents of special needs kids, and a big commonality is that the kids don't understand or respect space. They are always standing too close. And we are always reminding them to give us more space.

And I'm thinking now that those kids are like the puppies. Maybe we should be more like them.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HEATHER!

Heather is 21 today. I can't believe it's been 21 years since we rushed down to the hospital, having no idea what to expect (she came 2 weeks early, and I missed the movie in Lamaze class about a woman giving birth).

We had a family party for her last week when she was home for spring break - here she is pictured with Grandma at the party.

Now she is at Miami U, visiting her friend and enjoying her new legal status.

Deer in Our Yard

This picture of some visitors in our back yard was taken a few weeks ago. I hope they get their fill now and leave our garden alone when it's actually growing stuff!

Boston Ellen's Chicken Noodle Casserole

As promised, here's the recipe I got from Boston Ellen, who I also call Betty Crocker. I wish I had a photo,
but we ate ours pretty quickly. It's quick to assemble and just hits the spot.

Boston Ellen's Chicken Noodle Casserole

Small box of frozen peas.
4 cups (uncooked) of medium width egg noodles
2 cans cream of mushroom soup
2 cans chicken (or equivalent of cooked chicken)
1 cup milk.

Boil noodles and combine with other ingredients. Put in greased baking pan
and bake @ 400 for 35 minutes or until heated through.

*my note - while it wasn't in the recipe, I added a half cup of grated cheddar and it was good.

I am Hopeless

Well, for anyone who read my blog 3 months ago, you might remember that I had a brainstorm right before my last doctor's visit - I brought some home-made ginger snaps to my doc, had my usual weigh-in (and it wasn't good) and when he walked into the office, I held out the bag of cookies and said "these freshly baked cookies are yours if you don't comment on my weight." And he said "deal!" and hell, it was an easy office visit.

Well tomorrow is my next visit, and I swear every time I go to the doctor, I say ok, I WILL lose weight by my next visit. And then life happens, and life brings stress, and for me, stress means extra eating. It didn't help that last night we went to my sister's house for my nephew's birthday party and she had made her amazing oatmeal cookies. No one makes oatmeal cookies like Laurie. And while I had vowed to work really hard this week before the appointment, we ended up sitting around the table, sipping herbal tea, and my sister-in-law and I did the take-a-little-piece-of-cookie-and-keep-doing-that-and well, soon it isn't a little piece anymore.

And then my friend Boston Ellen, who has given me great recipes over the years, mentioned the other day she was making a chicken noodle casserole. Ooooh, I said, that sounds good. So she gave me the recipe. And it was easy. I assembled it yesterday, and today all I had to do was come home and put it in the oven. I thought ok, I will take one helping and then remove myself from the table. One more failure. We sat around with the noodle casserole and fresh italian bread and even skinny Heather took multiple portions. Thanks a lot, Ellen.

And having resigned myself to having a bad outcome tomorrow, I lowered myself to the last resort - I baked a lemon blueberry bread, and wrapped a few pieces for the doc. I told Marsha at work what I was doing, and she said "you're baking for him again? It's not even a holiday!" And I'm thinking "duh, Marsha, I don't bake for him because it's a holiday; I do it to lessen my guilt by silencing him!"

And since I knew I had blown it, and I was tired and the house is a mess and we have a houseful of people coming over tomorrow night to celebrate Heather's 21st birthday, I really did myself in. I ate spicy jelly beans as I watched House.

I am hopeless.

On Being Middle Aged

My first boss died of a brain tumor in his mid 40s. About 10 years after he died, I was talking to one of my co-workers and he commented that he was the same age as my boss had been when he died. He said you know, this is the age where you finally come into your own, and it's too bad he never got to experience that.

I was surprised by the comment, because this co-worker and I rarely talked about anything other than work. But it was one of those comments that always stuck with me.

Sometimes people make the comment that they would love to be young again. I am not in agreement. While I'm starting to feel old in many ways - with memory loss, aching joints and daily medications - I don't want to go back there. I think of youth as always worrying what people will think. Decisions being made based on how others would perceive me. Yeah, I've been there and done that, and I'm quite happy with where I am.

In my youth, I was a workaholic, and I thrived on that. When our company went through an upheaval years ago, and we were all stressed out to the max, I started to re-evaluate my priorities. And I decided that more than anything else, I wanted peace and balance in my life. I set up an interview at a company that was a 7 minute drive from my home, after driving downtown for 19 years. The position at this company was a lesser position than what I had previously held, and I wanted that lesser position. But the person interviewing me didn't get that, and had me come back for something like 5 interviews with different employees there, who were all shocked that I was going DOWN the career ladder. I explained to each one that I was looking for more balance and fewer responsibilities. I didn't understand why they didn't get that. I'm thinking it's a middle-aged mentality.

I had one interview at a place where the interviewer reminded me of me 25 years ago. She was very important at that company, and she felt important, and it was very important for her to feel important! During the interview she talked disparagingly about employees who arrived right on time, who took their full lunch, and - god forbid - who left right at 5:00. I honestly was feeling there wasn't enough air in that room and I had to get out of there! I thought lady, there is more to life than your job! But she was young, and hadn't smartened up yet.

I think part of aging is really enjoying the simple things that I would have found boring in my youth. Like gardening. I started to get into that a few years ago, and I can't tell you the joy I experience in the summer just walking out to my little flower garden and vegetable garden and seeing what's growing there. I'm thinking when you're young, you have accomplishments like good grades or starring in a school play or getting on a varsity team. Now, getting anything to grow when there was previously only soil is a major accomplishment that makes me proud!

And while I have known older people who speak their mind to the point of being obnoxious, I think middle-age brings with it an it's-ok-to-say-what's-on-your-mind mentality. As long as it's respectful.

Part of being middle-aged is also being able to see your kids in a different light. I'm not there to tell them what to do anymore, but to watch and hope they make the decisions that are best for them. Of course as a mom, I will always worry about my kids, but it's kind of interesting to see the paths they choose for themselves.

So I don't yearn for the days of my youth. I'm quite content with where I am right now.

Tuesday Musings

I have a pair of slippers I've had for many years. Too many years, I guess. They are so comfortable. They are suede with a hard rubber bottom, with a fleece lining. Well, after many years, they are torn - I mean like 6 inch slits - and the fleece is kind of hanging out. But I love these slippers. The other day, David said "you need new slippers" and I said "these work fine for me." I mean, it's not like I wear them out in public. Last night I was cleaning the dining room table and saw that he had left his beloved Cabela's catalogue open to the page on slippers. He doesn't get that I don't want new slippers! Some things are just fine the way they are. Even if they don't look it.


I heard a cat meowing earlier this evening. I went in search of a cat who might have been locked in a room or closet. I went past daughter Heather's room. She was in over the weekend, and she does not believe in making her bed. Well my oldest cat, Bing, who gets huge every winter cause he stays in (he slims down every summer) was all curled up in a ball on Heather's jumble of blankets and sheets. This big blonde ball. And I went to pet him, and it was pouring outside and you could hear the rain coming down, and I just thought I'm so glad we brought this animal home from the animal protective league 10 years ago and we supply him with a warm, dry, loving home, while he provides us with his own brand of love and lots of amusement.


I think 2 hours is just too long for an American Idol episode. I can only watch it if I'm reading a paper or doing laundry or dishes in between songs.