Don't underestimate giving it a shot.

For those of you who follow our summer adventures at www.survivingsummer.com, you know about my friend L and the play she was in that we (6 moms in a mini-van) went to see.

Here's the thing about L. SHE *does* stuff. I mean, we all *do* stuff, the blah blah mundane of our everyday lives, but L does the other things, the things we all say we would but never do.

I first met her at a get together for a local moms group. It was my first outing as a mom to meet other moms and I didn't know a single one. She was soooo nice to me that night (and she probably doesn't even remember) that I decided to give this "having-mommy-friends-thing" a shot.

Later, she moved in next door to a friend (who then moved out, not a related issue, thankfully) and I would see her periodically at playgroups. Then, we started our kids at the same preschool.

Soon after, she started running. I watched her miles increase, her waist shrink (I never thought it needed shrinking, but she shrunk it!) and her energy soar. I remember being amazed at the miles she was telling me she was running. She trained for triathlons and competed in them. Recently, she has taken on the role of mentor to some other friends and is coaching them. Way back at the beginning, she told me she hated to run, but she was doing it anyway so her body would be healthy. She sets a great example for her kid (and mine!) and now I hear stories of 35 mile bike rides and running with two four-year-olds in a jogging stroller while emulating Jiminy Cricket for her mentees.

That was the first thing. The second was auditioning for this play. Someone told her they were having open auditions and to try out. Now, she's not a stranger to presenting in front of an audience, but for her, it's usually children (and she makes an EXCELLENT Christmas Mouse). She was cast, and she was GOOD. She juggled her kid and her endlessly supportive husband (I'm pretty impressed by him as well) and her workouts and the whole thing to learn her part in 2 weeks and give 5 shows. Phew!

I wouldn't call her a "can-do" type (because they can be annoying) more of a "will-do". An "I will do what I'm doing and will also encourage and support you to the ends of the earth if you want to join me but will not pressure you and make you feel like a loser if you don't" type.

My own personal experience with giving it a shot? I became a business owner. I had been laid off halfway through my maternity leave and we were going broke pretty darn quick. I went to the garage, told the husband there was this "thing" called Virtual Assistance and I thought I could make it work. He told me to go for it, so I did. Scary, but worth it.

As far as everything else, I should get back to giving things a shot more often. Dismiss the excuses and the nay-saying part of my brain and try something new. What will *you* shoot for?

Don't underestimate Superman

Ice cream, that is.

When we were visiting St. Augustine, FL earlier this year, we discovered Superman Ice Cream in a little parlor on St George St. The kid fell in love, and I'm pretty sure he ate it every day after that. This particular Superman Ice Cream was Red, Blue and Yellow - lovely colors that make you think twice about what you're eating, but really just Vanilla ice cream.

Yesterday, because the husband was gone all day, I told the kid we would go for ice cream as a special treat. We go to a local ice cream parlor, and lo and behold, what should we see, but.. SUPERMAN ICE CREAM! The kid was thrilled, ordered it right away (while telling the lady what it *does* to you - sorry 'bout that, ice cream lady) and sat down to his ice cream.

After I inhaled my Mint Chocolate Chip cone, I noticed that his was not going as quickly as it should. I asked him if it was OK. He said yes, just different. Then he said he didn't like it. So I tried it. Nope, NOT vanilla. Not sure what it was, I'm pretty sure I tasted bubblegum, though. Or maybe cotton candy. Or Maybe both.

So he cheerfully said that it was OK, he would just stick to Chocolate until we went back to get the good stuff. I didn't have the heart to tell him he could have the "good stuff" if he just ate vanilla with his eyes shut.

Don't Underestimate the Importance of a Birthday to a 4 Year Old

The kid turned 4 last week. It was all planned out - there was going to be a birthday party here on Saturday, we had invited all his friends from school and playgroup, there would be balloons, party hats and Mickey Mouse cupcakes for the kids (beer, wine and margaritas for the adults) - good times, right?

Friday morning there was some coughing. Alright, it happens, he has bad allergies, the weather's been crazy. I go ahead and send out the reminder email and to tell everyone to send kids in mud clothes because of the rain. Then there was puking. Not alright. And a fever. Even less alright. Sent another email to cancel the party.

PSA - do everything in your power to never have to tell a little boy you have to cancel his birthday party. It's the saddest thing EVER.

Me: We can't have your birthday party tomorrow

Kid: What do you mean?

Me: Mommy has to cancel your birthday party because you threw up and have a fever. We don't want your friends to get sick.

Kid: What? (Big tear-brimmed eyes) But I won't throw up anymore, I promise. Can I still have my birthday? Please? I won't be sick, Mommy, I won't. I want to be four! PLEASE?! (now looking a bit panicked)

Me: You'll still have your birthday and turn four, but you won't have a party. You and Mommy and Daddy will have cake and presents, but your friends can't come over.

Kid: (sniffle)(sob) But I won't make anyone sick..

This went on and on, around and around, you can probably guess the rest - tears, anguish, dismay, you get the picture.

So, guilt-ridden mommy and deflated little boy go to the store to pick out a cake. He wants Mickey on his cake. That's fine, he chooses a ready made cake with big green flowers from the cooler and the very nice lady at the bakery let me buy the Mickey set to go on top. While I'm talking to her, the kid is telling some random lady his sob story about how his birthday party was cancelled and all he wanted was to have his friends come play for his birthday. The next thing I know, she's handing him $5 and telling him to get something for his birthday! I'm trying to refuse, and she told me she had a niece his age and she was so sorry about his party. I let him keep it. Then promptly removed him from the store before he could hit anyone else up.

Saturday morning comes, no puking, no fever, no coughing. "Mommy! I'm all better, can I have my party?" (sigh)

Don't underestimate your dog (or your vet)

Almost 4 and a half years ago, my dog died. This was Maxie, *my* first pet (as opposed to a family pet), and I had adopted her from the shelter in 1994. This was the dog that had gone everywhere in the car with me, the reason we took up hiking, the one who had obedience and agility training, and the one who, as soon as I found out I was pregnant, I *knew* would love my baby. She was what I now call a "pre-baby".


She never had the chance to meet the kid, though, because I was 3 months pregnant when she died. She had been diagnosed with Osteosarcoma, a form of bone cancer. It was in her front leg, and unfortunately, due to her age and arthritis, she was not viable for the only treatment, amputation.


It was horrible, and we were devastated. I just could *not* bring myself to make the decision to put her to sleep. My extraordinarily supportive vet helped me by prescribing pain medication for her and listening whenever I needed to talk. She referred us to a specialist and even offered to come to our home to "do the deed" if we wanted.


In the end, Maxie made the decision for us, and passed away peacefully on her own.


Fast forward to a few days ago, I got a message from that same vet (she has since moved to another city, but we keep in touch). *Her* dog was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma. Thankfully, today, she is having the amputation surgery, and I hope with all my heart it goes well for them both. The surgery is a difficult thing, and although this will sound strange, I am thrilled that this option is available to them. Dogs can generally adapt to the loss of a limb fairly well, and with the great care I know she will receive, she should soon be back on her feet.


So, here's to the dogs in our lives, may we be as good to them as they are to us.

Don't underestimate those piano lessons

I know many of you groan at the thought of those childhood piano lessons that were forced upon you. I know many of you think "I wish I could play piano". And I know many of you from both camps who now send their kids (forced or not).

I had to beg for piano lessons. My family had a piano, so that wasn't the issue, it was because my dad had a *very* bad experience, a result of decent talent and too-high expectations. So when I was nine, I got to go. I loved it. I knew a bit going in, so I breezed through the first, well, few years. Then it got hard, and practice was required. I *hated* to practice. I did it, but I hated it.

Fast forward to High School, there are piano competitions, recitals, and I'm playing for the school jazz band and jazz combo (*not* so good at jazz, by the way, I got by but was a disaster at improv which, well, is a big part of jazz) and I get a scholarship to major in music at UNCG. Still hated to practice. Love to play, though.

Fast forward to today, and I can still play a little, but for the last 4 years I think it's been pretty limited to Disney tunes and nursery rhymes.

Last night, the husband re-arranged our living room. My piano came out of the corner, it is now the first thing your eye goes to when you enter the house. My friend Kristy would say that's the focus point, and apparently it is. I walked in the house after preschool drop-off, pulled out Bach and played. For 10 minutes. It's a start.

The kid will take piano if he wants to. It's a bit hard on him with two music majors for parents, and people ask us all the time what he will play. We've decided *if* he wants to play, he can play what he wants, and we will support him. But I hope he does it because it's fun and he likes it, not because he "should" or because we want him to. Only time will tell.

Don't underestimate the grocery cart.

Or rather, don't take the grocery cart for granted when your kid is still small enough that you can wrestle him into it.

Today was the day that I realized the kid is too strong for me to *make* him do things. We're at BJ's, strolling the aisles, he's being a very good helper.

Side note - I'm a looper when I shop - I like to go back and forth down the aisles, I do *not* like shortcuts unless I'm in a hurry. Especially at BJ's since there's ALWAYS something I forgot for my list. I'm also a little OCD.

So we're shopping, and we reach the end of an aisle. I prepare to walk down the next aisle, and he starts jumping up and down and screaming that he wants to go see the vegetables.

Another side note - I *know* I should be over the moon that my 3 year old's chosen "tourist stop" at the store is the vegetable section, but that's not really the point here.

I (stupidly) try to reason with him - "We'll get to the vegetables, love, we just need to go down this aisle first. Mommy needs some butter, can you be a big helper and open the door for me?" More screaming, more crying, and now he's rolling around on the floor.

Confident in my Mommy abilities, I go over and pick him up, intending to put him in the cart. SURPRISE, mom! The kid has quadrupled his strength (darn vegetables) and your only choice is to drop him or put him back down on the floor. I put him back down and try tactic 2 - the scary mommy-hiss. "Youwillnotactlikethisinapublicplacethisisinexcusabledoyouhearme?" Of course he doesn't hear me, he's screaming his head off.

Then, in one of my more stellar mommy moments, I stand up, trying desperately to remember "kind but firm" and not quite managing the kind bit, I say (a little more loudly than was strictly necessary judging by the other shoppers), "FINE! You will sit right there until you learn to act like a human, it is NOT OK to throw a hissy fit in the store!" So he stops, and I give him the squinty eye, and say "I'm going to put you in the cart now, and so help me, if you try to make it difficult for me, I will be very angry".

To his credit, he does let me put him in the cart, I think I'm off the hook, and then he says, "Mommy - I am ANGRY at you, you would not let me have any vegetables!"

Sigh.

Keep 'em in the cart while you can, ladies - one day it won't be up to you.

Don't underestimate what you say.

Way, way (way) back in my "previous" life, I waited tables. In that life, I saw LOTS of people every day. And most of them said *something*, and for most, I don't really remember what. But there are three things that have stuck with me through all the years:

1. "Smile more. It makes people wonder what you're up to." This came from an older gentleman, dining alone, and he and I had been having a nice little waitress/diner chat as he ate. At the end of his meal, he asked if he could give me some advice, and that's what he said.



2. "You're savvy." I don't know that I actually *am* savvy, but a couple who owned another restaurant in the same town, one day thought I was. Not sure why, but it makes me happy.



3. "Sheeeew-eee, baby! You our waitress?" My response was "No" and I walked away to get the manager. It was the only time I ever refused to wait on a table. I should add that I am not now, and was not then, *H-O-T*, they were probably intoxicated.

So when you're out there, talking to the waiters and waitresses, cashiers and baggers, friends and family, and everyone else you come across in your daily life, think about what you're saying. They just might remember it. And for the record, any variation of "Shew-ee, baby" is never a good idea.