Happy Mother’s Day, Sis.

Posted by random olio

For many years after my mom was gone, my sister was like a mother to me. I loved and hated it about her. She is older, so it was natural for her to step in and be the older, wiser sister, and I often resisted it. We fought a lot, which often ended in tears. Yet we also laughed a lot, which also ended in tears. I did not want to be mothered, and yet we both in our own ways, wanted to be mothered. We wanted that connection of family. There were ebbs and flows of times when we yearned to have our own family. We always had different individuals in our lives that were an inspiration to us, maybe not mother types, but individuals (yes I did not say women, because mothering can come from a man too) who gave us the mothering that we needed.

Each year as Mother’s Day comes and goes I have to say it is a strange day for me. It has been 20 years since I saw my mom’s face, held her hand, or gave her a hug. I have lived more years of my life without her than I had with her. Some years are tougher than others. On years when my sister and I lived in the same city, we would often have a sister brunch on Mother’s Day. Other years, I just go about my day as though it is just any other Sunday in May.

This year, my sister became a mother. Sunday will be the first Mother’s Day for her as a mom. While Charlie is too young to dote on her mom, I hope my sister cherishes the day. I hope she remembers that while she has had extremely less sleep, and most likely not much of a life in the past few months, it has all been worth it. I know she will say it has been.

Love the hell out of that precious little baby. Enjoy every moment as a mom. I only wish our mom could be with you on your first Mother’s Day, she would love the crap out of, lil Charlie.

Happy Mother’s Day, Sis.

Ten things about my dad

Posted by random olio

My sister and a good friend just had babies in the last two months. It is fun watching (well I guess more through pictures at the moment) and thinking about Chris being a father someday. It has also prompted me to be reflective about my relationship with my own father. It was not really a rock-solid relationship. We had hard times, we had good times, but through it all we had memories. Here are a few remembrances of my dad:

If I knew I would lose him at such a young age, I would have kept all the letters he wrote to me on Christmas Eve (aka Santa who ate my cookies and drank the egg nog). Of course we left out egg nog for Santa, my dad LOVED his egg nog. The letters from Santa though, I guess I got rid of them, and they were the few letters I had from my dad. It would have been fun today to hear his wisdom. Especially during a holiday he loved. I am positive his letters probably shared his best self.
I wish he had been here long enough to meet Chris. He would have inadvertently taught him about construction. Chris would have picked up things quickly and learned to leave the truly professional jobs for the professionals.
He would have fun talking to Chris about cars. His “Automobile Quarterly” was a cherished possession. The two of them would geek out, although he would probably talk Chris’ head off with his endless stories of growing up on his Dad’s car lot.
The only movie I can remember seeing with him is, “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” Seriously? What was he thinking? Bad movie, Dad.
His blue pickup truck was, well honestly, a piece of shit, but it was his truck and it contained all of his endless notes, crappy construction items, odd-shaped pencils, tape measures, clipboards, and what I will never forget, the device you could wire to the horn and play my favorite ever – the Dukes of Hazzard theme song. How cool I thought it was to have that blaring from the truck as we drove down the street.
I wish I knew I had a short time with him. I would have gotten over the grudge I held for so long. Not that it would have been easy for him, but I would have made us talk through our differences.
I do not remember it as much as a kid, but as I got older and saw him less and less, he seemed to show his emotion more and more. If only that had started earlier on in my life. If only.
He was a good/big hugger. Maybe that is where I get it from.
He had an addiction to Ritz crackers and peanut butter. I do not share this addiction. It just makes me think of sandpaper and glue. Dry and sticks to your mouth. Lime chips are where it is at! Wish I could spoil him with my addiction.
He would have loved iPhones. Not for the email, or phone, but for the games. If he knew you could play Cribbage, Euchre, Scrabble, Solitaire, I can imagine how unproductive he would have become. I think he would have played me from wherever he would be living.

Get off the ferris wheel?

Posted by random olio

The common theme for me recently has been: work/life balance. Chris of course has been my strongest advocate for more balance. Work less, play more. Co-workers, and friends at work, friends outside of work, and family have all encouraged me to take a stand for more balance in my life. It has been something I have struggled with ever since I started my professional life. Yes, there have been ebbs and flows. Times when more is asked of you, and others when you are bored at your job. I always found a way to cope with work boredom – I started my own business. Somehow it was ingrained in me at an early age, work hard, play later.

We are often a product of our childhoods. Sometimes that means we are in a vicious cycle of not repeating the mistakes of our parents and yet we can never seem to get off the ferris wheel. Somehow we are always stuck on the top and never get to get off the ride. I have very vivid visuals of my childhood. There were many opportunities I missed out on because we either could not afford it, did not have the transportation to be able to participate, or had so much responsibility to take care of others in my family, that often there was not time for play. At times I wonder if I worked so hard to never replicate my experience, that I forget that my life is now so far removed from my childhood. So how does someone who grew up in that environment get off that ferris wheel?

Chris and I have talked about this on numerous occasions. He often reminds me that together we have carved out a life that we have made our own. We have been meticulous about our finances, discussed our decisions and choices extensively, and feel confident that we are going down the right path. We have full control on when the ferris wheel stops, but somehow the momentum of all the different responsibilities we have, makes it somehow feel like everything is going so fast it feels nearly impossible to stop, get out, and maybe find another ride.

We tease each other (and maybe at times are more serious than others) that having a kid means getting on an entirely new ride. Maybe babies are not allowed on ferris wheels, and by making the choice to get off and start a family, we forfeit the ability to get back on. Is that true, or is that new ride, even more exhausting (yet maybe more fun and exhilarating)? I am a fan of roller coasters, so maybe starting a family is like that. A long wait, big thrill and then start all over again (just kidding). I think I am getting carried away with the theme park analogies today.

How do you get off that ferris wheel, daily, weekly, monthly? How do you walk away, yet stay connected to what is important? I am all ears for how you maintain that work/life balance. Would love to hear your inspiration, challenges, and ideas!

Co-Pilots, Co-Parents, Co…

Posted by random olio

I have been thinking a lot lately about the term: “co-pilot.” It is applicable to so many parts of our life. Our spouse or partner is our co-pilot, whether that means in how you parent, deal with your family, or even how you support each other. Using the term co-pilot is not meant to confuse you. In flight terms the co-pilot is second in command to the pilot. Remove that notion from your thought right now, and think of co-pilot as it is defined. “Co” meaning joint or mutually. Are you with me so far?

Think of it in the realm of parenting. If one parent is always the pushover and the other is always the firm one it can cause issues with the kids (not that I have kids and truly can speak to it but just stay with me for a second or two). Going back to pilots. In order for those pilots to fly that plane (all modern conveniences aside) is that they have to be mutually connected to the task at hand. They have to know what the other is responsible for during the flight, so that they do not override each other and potentially create turmoil for their passengers. Just like if parents communicate and are on the same page, it creates a much clearer message for children to follow. Still with me?

It also translates to a work environment. Many individuals have to share a role with a peer, or co-lead a team. In order for that team to run smoothly they need to communicate clearly with each other, make sure they are on the same page, ensure there is clarity of roles, and then execute based on what is mutually agreed upon. If one individual does not communicate with the other, it can lead to resentment, frustration, and have a trickle down effect to the rest of the team. The same goes for marriage: clear communication, clarity of roles, and follow through with what was agreed upon. Quite simple right?

See how many areas of our lives we have to share responsibilities and be very clear on what end result we are driving towards? Yes, I am making it simple, and it actuality is an intricate web of personal dynamics, differences of opinion, and emotions that can lead to a multitude of responses and outcomes. Yet, if we just go back to the idea of “co” and make sure that we are making choices that are mutual, joint, and inclusive we might begin to weave a cohesive, strong, and unflappable thread in our marriage, family, and work environments.

Start with “co.”

Precious moments: dads + sweatpants

Posted by random olio

Parents. Love them, hate them. You start life being inseparable with your mom (your dad too), but you are the clingy kid, as we grew up, we all went through phases when we loathed them, they got on our nerves, or we thought they were just not cool. Then you grow up, life happens you win some and lose some, and your parents mean something much different to you. I know I am not speaking for everyone, some have closer relationships, and some have nonexistent ones, still the circle of life continues to ebb and flow.

I can remember one time in high school, or it might have been college, arriving at the Indianapolis airport (back when someone could meet you at the gate), and my dad was there to pick me up. He was wearing these horrible sweatpants and white high top sneakers. These were not name brand (at the time I cared). Additionally as horrible was his sweatshirt and one of his trucker caps. Of course I was glad to see him, and grateful to be picked up from the airport, but I was embarrassed. This was the era of “wear my brand name on the butt” aka Guess jeans, ESPIRIT. It mattered to me at the time. I was horrified that I would see someone I knew and that they would judge me.

Now I just think wow, this lonely man, my dad, was probably so happy to see me and be with his daughter on my school break and I put up walls because I did not like his sweatpants (well to my favor, men + sweatpants + public = not a good idea). In any case, we cannot go back and redo life. I have that memory and it brings tears to my eyes for all the moments I missed out with my father.

I thought I would share two precious father/daughter moments to inspire you. Whether you are the father, or the daughter (or the mother for that matter), I hope it inspires you to cherish every moment with each other. Moments are precious. Make sure you burn the good ones in your mind, not ones with purple sweatpants (oh did I forget to tell you they were purple)? The first video is a dad who returns from Afghanistan and surprises his little daughter:

One more link, (also precious). It is to a photo slide show of a father/daughter in their home before they move. The mother died at 31 due to lung cancer and the photos recreate similar angles to the couple’s wedding photos in the same house. Definitely worth checking out, but get a kleenex first. Father/daughters are something special. Wish I could hug my dad today.