I have a dream

I have a dream...

Yep, MLK spoke these words. But of course because I am a mom, when I hear that phrase I think of the song in Tangled. Go figure.

Anywho, I have a dream. I have had dreams in the past, but this dream has been with me since I was 7 years old. It has only taken me 29 years to take it seriously and go for it.

I have done things I never thought I would do: have kids, run a 5k, get physically fit, and walk 60 miles. But this dream I have has been with me for so long, and yet I haven't achieved it. There were excuses and fear of failure but ultimately it just hasn't gotten done. It's time to change that.

So tip #1 on achieving your dream: make it public. Hold yourself accountable.

WHAT IS YOUR DREAM?

This week, I am focusing on achieving dreams. I will be writing about some amazingly talented women who have reached their dreams. At the end of the week, I will reveal my dream, 29 years in the making.

Since I have a background in the arts, I have been blessed to know some amazing artistic women who are living their dreams. they have persevered and toughed it out and have incredible products to show for it. I am going to write a short list, but to be honest, I could list over a hundred of my close friends and how they have followed their dreams.

So sit back, enjoy, and discover some new amazing musicians, artists, and writers...

First person up: 

Her name is Elizabeth McQueen. Elizabeth is an amazing musician and singer. She is a mom of two kids and a real cool chick. We grew up together in high school, performing in choirs and shows together, clinging to the first soprano notes that were set aside for us in the songs. She was better at harmony and intrinsically and naturally a better singer. But I was never jealous, I admired her natural ability. She is tall and I am short, she has curly hair, I have straight hair, but we valued music and had fun with it. Recently, I listened to a podcast where she discussed how she discovered what her dream was. She discussed her life in high school and how one song changed her outlook on life and who she was meant to be. (Check the podcast out here: the second half is Elizabeth)

Over the years, we lost touch but I would occasionally hear of her struggles in the music biz and her many successes. When I joined Facebook, we reconnected and I experienced all that I had heard of her. She is no longer singing "Eleanor Rigby" in Show Choir with me. Instead, she is a Rockabilly, Jazz, Country, Blues singer. In other words, she sings what she wants to; and she does it very well. She has performed with the likes of Willie Nelson, and the "King of Texas Swing", Ray Benson. She traveled the country as the lead female vocalist of the acclaimed Western Swing band, Asleep at The Wheel. in 2009, she was nominated for a Grammy for the album "Willie and The Wheel".  Recently, she teamed up with Brothers Lazaroff, an awesome soul and folk band and released her fourth album, The Laziest Remix.  So congrats to you, Elizabeth for following your dreams, being an AWESOME mom to your two adorable girls and an inspiration to me.

I have a dream series:

Part 2: Mary Curran-Hackett
Part 3: Risa Binder
Part 4: Meredith Goldstein
Part 5: My Dream 

     

Never in a million years....

A friend of mine suggested I write a post on "things I never thought I would say..." Her suggestion came from a situation she recently encountered. Her daughter is the opposite of her. She is a self proclaimed "science geek" and a bit of a "Tom boy". Her daughter, who is my daughter's best friend, is anything but those things. She likes to sing and act and be girly. Recently, her daughter auditioned for a talent agency. My friend said she never thought there would be a day when she said that HER daughter has a marketing manager. But alas she has a marketing manager, and alas, my friend is entering an entirely new realm different from her own.

The same day, I ironically, had a similar experience. And thus, this entry made perfect sense to write.

    
A little background:
When I was in high school I was a full fledge musical theatre geek. I was set to go on Broadway, have an agent, to be famous. I was going to graduate, go to school for musical theatre, get a big break, live in NYC (even though at that time I had never been there), not need a man, and be an aunt to my friends' kids.  My best friend, Karen, used to laugh and say "yep, that's you." And she was going to be a working woman, independent and successful, travel the world and maybe have kids later in life, of which I would be a terrific "aunt " to.

Me, as Mabel in Fame.

Funny how life changes. I went from "Most Likely to be on David Letterman and winning my high school's Musical Theatre award to... Teaching with children.  The road between the two was a good 10 years, but alas it happened. My friend lived in NYC and now Boston, has a successful career and yes, has a family. I got married a year after she did and began having children a few years before she did.

Karen and I (pre-kids) 

We were catching up on the phone the other day, her one year old son was playing with stickers. My son, D, was crawling under the train table (it is less than 12" off the ground). As we were talking, we stopped talking to each other and started talking to our children at the same time. After a minute or two, we realized a conversation between each other was futile and I made a comment: " who would have thought that 20 years ago this moment would have happened." We laughed and said our goodbyes.

As I reenter the teaching world, I am in awe with how my life has changed. Who I was in high school is so different from who I am now. I am much happier playing myself instead of a character. But I would be a liar if I didn't say I still belt out Broadway songs in the car and break out a time step in the kitchen. Never say never, and always be open to changes, you never know where they made lead.

What is something you have said recently that 20 years ago you never thought you would say?

Something I love

**No one has paid me or even asked for me to review anything in this post.**

I am in love with a game that my daughter got recently for Christmas. It's called Zingo! My friend had suggested it a while ago and I am dismayed that we hadn't gotten it sooner.

It's a picture variation of Bingo and our whole family enjoys playing it. I love that there is a "Board Game" out there that both my 3 and 5 year old can play. I love that my husband and I enjoy playing it, too.

We currently have the version with pictures but I am thinking about getting the sight words version too. There is also a number version.

This is an ideal family game because all members of the family can have fun, it's quick and reinforces   images with text identification.

Also, my two little people can play without us too!

Let it go... Let the pee pee flow

If you are a living, breathing, human being, you have probably heard of the song,  "Let It Go" from the movie,  Frozen.  The responsible thing for me to do here is provide a link to it. If you haven't heard of it, you are probably living under a rock and I will not subject you to getting it stuck in your head. Because once you hear it, you may be singing it at 3 am too.

Frankly, I do love the song. I enjoy belting it out and pretending I am back in my Musical Theatre heyday. Idina Menzel has nothing on me. I digress. 

My youngest, D, is potty training. He is 3 years and 4 months old.

This is not the first time we have attempted potty training. In fact, it may be the 5th time? 6th time? 1,000,000th time? Alas, this time, we stopped buying diapers. A week ago, on a Monday, we started. AGAIN. But this time, something clicked. He was getting it.

So, there my son sits on his tiny Elmo potty. His leg occasionally purposely hitting Elmo's hand and Elmo chirping various phrases "You're going potty!" "Yeah! Congratulations!" Over and over and over. (Why those batteries haven't run out through two kids is beyond me). And Elmo, you are a big furry LIAR because Elmo, nothing is going in the potty.

We have been sitting here FOREVER. I repeat "You can do it! Just let it out!", through a fake syrup smile. But in my head I am thinking: "you have had three cups of milk and juice, just mother f#%^^ PEE!"

Due to the fact the "Let It Go" song has been stuck in my head, I changed the lyrics a bit for the occasion. I start to sing and my five year old daughter excitedly chimes in:

"Let it go, Let it go,
Let the pee pee flow.
Here you sit
On the potty
Let the pee pee flllllllooooooooowwwwwwww
Potty training never bothered me anyway."

Lie. I hate potty training.

He eventually peed in the potty. He was getting it. Underwear and pull-ups were staying dry! Rewards were being eaten! Grandmothers were being called! Hallelujah! My sweet but very stubborn boy was finally being potty trained!

He makes it really difficult to get upset with him. 

Then, after 8 hours of success. He threw up. I felt so bad for him. He was so sick.

In my head, for a second, I thought, "Seriously? He's getting sick NOW? Why? We are potty training! Everything is supposed to come to a halt. My life, my son's life, my family's life, is supposed to stop. Potty training is the priority!"

I immediately felt guilty. Time to take a step back. Time to help my precious boy feel better. Time to let it go.

Over the next couple of days, he actually did pretty well. He was staying dry, for the most part, and peeing in the potty.  He was sleeping a lot and recovering, but despite that, he was getting it. I was cautiously optimistic. Then he began to feel better.

And he went back to his stubborn, ornery ways. So, now he is in pull-ups, going potty when he feels like it. And as frustrated as I am, I am letting it go. And we are taking a break. But come Thursday, mister, you better "Let It Go, let the pee pee flow". In the potty. PLEASE. In the potty.

Short Stuff

I am short.  I am always in the front row of pictures. When I was 10, I almost made it into the second row, but a classmate was absent so I got stuck in the front row. Again. I was in the MIDDLE! Of the front row.
By the time I turned 11, my brush with being tall was halted and by age 12, I stopped growing completely. At 5'1", I was staring down the barrel of a life of height restrictions.
So, naturally, I married a man who is 6'2". He comes from a family of giants  tall people, so I am frequently looking up at family get togethers. And luckily, one of our children (my daughter), seems to have inherited my husbands' long legs.

My husband and I in Jamaica.

My husband's  40th birthday party, it was an 80s theme.....

So I thought I would share some of the things that suck  the things that are a challenge with being short.

1) Tall  cabinets. In order to get to the top of my cabinets, I have to get on a stool, scale the cabinets, stand on the counter, balance on tip toe and reach precariously to get what I need. It's fun to risk falling on the hard tile floor for the plastic butterfly cookie cutter.

2) All pants are too long.... And capris.. Well I since they look like high water pants instead of Capri pants, I don't wear them. Luckily, my mom is an excellent seamstress and is very good at hemming pants.

3) Your 12 year old nephew and your 10 year old niece are ecstatic when they reach your height. And my 8 year niece is close to it too. Upon their glee of being taller, I brag that I was taller than my 5 foot tall grandmother (may she rest in peace), but then again, everyone was.

4) I am not a terrific swimmer. I feel more comfortable in the four feet and below section of the pool. This becomes an issue when your 18 month old floats in his floatie bat mobile into the five foot and over 4 foot section. Multiple times.

5) Driving. In the past, my husband's car had this awesome seat memory feature. Push a button, and the seat moved all the way up to my position. Push another button, it went all the way back for his position. We don't own that car anymore, and yes, I still move my seat all the way up to the front and as high as it will go. Of course, I do an evil giggle when valets and car repair men bang their knees getting into the car.

But being short isn't all bad.

I am a damn good limbo player.
When I fall, it's not as far.
I make a great armrest for my husband.
I am closer to my kids (for the time being).

And

Good things come in small packages.

Rambling run ons

Since I have recently been cast in the  DC Listen To Your Mother Show, I am becoming more and more aware of the amazing writers that surround me. I have been trying to up my game and just write. But there are times, like last night, when I am all ready to write and nothing that is coherent or meaningful comes out onto the page.

It's frustrating. I am going to try a few new things on this blog, because I can, because it is mine, and we will see what happens.

Dancing With Fireflies, a fun writing blog/web page hosted by my friend, Crysta, has a poetry writing challenge for the week. When I was in high school, I used to fill up composition books with poetry (mainly of teen angst). I loved putting symbolism and imagery to my ordinary thoughts. I remember being in an English class and having to write an existential poem. I had been struggling in the class (mainly because I wasn't reading the required books) and my teacher had lowered expectations of my ability. I felt my inadequacy of writing when my friends in the class were getting A's on papers and I was getting C's. Across my papers were comments such as "rambling" and "run on sentence". (In my senior year, a teacher asked me if I understood English- side note she was a drunk, whom my brother had issues with before and I promptly changed classes to another teacher). I had great difficulty with writing efficiently and succinctly. It wasn't until college when a teacher's assistant helped me that I learned the right way to write a paper for class.  The existential poem I wrote for my high school class made my peers and teacher speechless. I had gotten the assignment on a level higher than anyone else. I had gotten an A+ and my poem was applauded by my teacher, my peers and my parents. I will have to see if I can dig up that poem and post it here.

I digress. My true love is creative writing. I have novels in my head and make believe stories playing through my mind on a regular basis. My father used to write haikus. He loved the efficient and succinct way to write. I would be jealous of that ability later when we would trade haikus and I could never quite get the rhythm he so easily could use in his writing.  But the truth is that was his style, his talent. I am not of that mind, I prefer to ramble, to carry people away in my thoughts. So while I will continue to post about my daily happenings, I hope to post some creative writing pieces as well.

Here is a poem for today:

Child sleeping
illness exiting his body
on a slow march
to another host
Breathing softly,
suck suck of the thumb
tug tug of the hair.
Deep sleep.




What about you? What do you like to write?

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Twinkle

I am currently the "Spotlight Cast Member" on the Listen to Your Mother DC Website. Hop on over there if you haven't seen it yet..
http://listentoyourmothershow.com/dc/2014/02/27/meet-the-cast-tiffany-patterson/)

I was going to try to be uplifting and witty with this post.  I know that a good amount of people will be reading this post, and I didn't want to be a "downer".

However in the sense of honesty and authenticity, I can't be witty tonight. Sorry. I have a lot weighing on my shoulders this week. I am in the middle of my online graduate class which has left only a few coherent brain cells left. More than that, I am in the middle of yet another family member being very ill and near the end of their life.

Over the last 7 years, my husband and I have had a close family member pass away every year. Most due to cancer and some from old age. I am desensitized to the process of illness and death. In October, we congratulated each other in a macabre way for making it a year without going to a family funeral. And here we sit, February. facing yet another end.

I am a very lucky woman. I have had three grandparents (two grandmothers and one grandfather) who were were present in my life, all the way into my thirties. Not many people get to say that. I am blessed that I was able to witness and experience my grandparents throughout many different stages in my life.

I am blessed that my 93 year old grandfather knows and has a wonderful relationship with my kids. I am blessed that my husband has a unique relationship with my grandfather. And I am blessed that I am able to have the relationship I have with my grandfather.

In the past week, so many people have stated that he is a "national treasure". While I agree with that, given his heroic WWII fighter pilot missions, I never thought of him as that. He was never the "Colonel" in my eyes, never the Reverend or the "Cad" as my mom and Grandma would tease him about. He was/is and always will be just my Grandpa.

It wasn't until I was older that I learned of his missions and the importance of them. It wasn't until I was religiously knowledgeable that I understood his spirituality and it wasn't until I was much older that I began to understand his "charming" personality.

When I was a little girl, we could speak with looks, and very little words and just "get" each other. I knew if he was joking around with me if I could look at his eyes. He could never pull a trick on me as long as I could see his eyes. Even now with his eyes half closed, I know when he's joking with me... through the slit, I still see the twinkle.

When I was younger and he was a smoker, I used to throw his cigarettes in the trash. He would get so mad at me. Until one day, he realized the importance of what I was "saying" and he quit cold turkey. That was about 30 years ago. No one else could get him to stop. But I did.

My Grandpa is a man with a quick and sharp tongue. But he is kind too, always caring for others and praying for others. A fighter pilot turned reverend. A man who had to try not to say "Damn" at the pulpit and made sure he had his 5:00 martini (5 olives, if available);  but one who feels privileged to teach about God and welcome people into his faith.

Myself, my Mom, My Grandpa, Dylan (as a baby) and my Uncle

I have learned so much from him. I have learned how to be tenacious and proud of who I am. To love unconditionally and keep my heart safe. I have learned how to hide a Rubik's Cube really well, and how to hammer a nail. I have learned how to play Zilch and that Rice Chex cereal tastes better when your Grandpa sneaks extra sugar on it when your Grandmother isn't looking. I have learned that a good man is one who loves his wife for 67 years and is a Patriarch of his family in an unquestionable and proud manner. I have learned that you are never too old to try new things, to love someone and enjoy life.

My Grandpa and my Son, 90 years difference

I have had the privilege of having him marry my husband and I, and baptize myself and my children.

His spirit and mind are still alive and well, but his body is giving out. And that, truly, is the most difficult part. I just want him to have peace in whatever way he needs.

The other day, I went to visit him at the hospital and I just held his hand. I didn't need to say much, but of course I teased him. Just a little; cause that's what we do. And through the slit in his tired eyes, I saw the twinkle.

My Grandpa, being goofy