Reasons...

July 2002:  Matthew, age twenty months.

 Beyond anything the human mind comprehends,

Further than any great distance covered,

I awake each morning: rise, prepare

for another exhausting day of mothering.

June 2004:  Andrew, age fourteen months. 

And yet, without reservations, without hesitation,

I would (and) do it all,

again and again; day in, out

for all the millions of reasons

every other mother does what's necessary.

October 2008:  Joshua, age eighteen months. 

Our relentless love for our children,

and the light in their eyes,

as they experience a precious moment.

That light goes against all reason...

Got a reason you do what you do?  Visit Melissa and find out about Six Word Fridays...

Surrender

At the end of the day,

after homework, dinner and baths;

the battle begins; a hopeless dance.

Be productive in relative peace, quiet?

Drop everything , grab the neglected book ?

Run to undo the days dietary mistakes?

Or succumb to the inviting softness

of the freshly made, warm bed...

In hopes of a productive tomorrow

when I can read or run;

not surrender too quickly or soundly

as the white sheets beckon me tonight.

Waving the white flag?  Visit Melissa and find out more about Six Words Fridays!

Bare...

As I always am with you.

No pretenses, no barriers, no secrets.

Always lovingly accepted with no disguise.

I cannot imagine any other way

to know a lover, kindred spirit

in this masquerade the world holds,

each day of our complicated lives.

Ready to bare all?  Visit Melissa and learn more about Six Word Fridays.

Guilt...

Red velvet cupcakes.

Spinning for 60.

Here's to hoping

that my guilt

(and weight) disappear

as quickly as

that damned cupcake.

Guilty?  Need to confess?  Check out Melissa's blog and Six Word Fridays!

Bargain Hunting...

I was a broke college student.

I practiced snagging a good bargain.

As a mother of three boys,

and a still broke, underpaid, schoolteacher

bargains are a method of survival,

thoroughly perfected and strategically planned maneuvers.

Sometimes, the thrill of the hunt,

makes the catch all the sweeter.

And it makes your walk through

this life just a bit more fashionable,

especially when clearance is 30% off,

and free shipping of the prize.

My beautiful, waterproof boots arrived this week to greet me on a depressing Monday afternoon.  Online, on clearance, 30% off AND free shipping.  No crowds and on the cheap?  Yes, life is very good!

More than you bargained for?  Check out Melissa's blog and learn about Six Word Fridays!

Saving myself…

Once upon a time, long ago,

a little girl grew up with

poverty and sadness; a dizzying combination.

She promised herself an ever after

that included copious amounts of happiness

and never having to worry about

how to pay your doctor’s bills.

She worked hard, found Prince Charming,

and her happily ever after that

included a roof over her head,

food on the table, bills paid.

Saving for rainy days became something

that would guarantee a safety net

in case the dream was broken.

When her children arrived, she realized

that saving for rainy days now

meant providing a net for them.

Saving for rainy days today means

putting a little extra money away

to help with surprises: good, bad.

But more importantly, to help me

get myself through those tumultuous days,

my heart’s snapshots always remind me

that the greatest fortune to save

is the love of your family.

Got something worth saving?  Check out Melissa's blog and Six Word Fridays.

Peace within...

The one thing we long for,

we must have to give freely.

It's forms: intricately designed and distinct.

It descends in moments of despair,

enveloping you, lifting you, sustaining you.

It permeates in moments of joy,

deepening the moment; strengthening faith, hope.

How often have prayed for it:

how quickly it has been granted.

It has been my armor, strength

in all that I have endured.

In the moments of quiet meditation

I pray that I can be

an instrument of peace to those

who look for strength, hope, sustenance;

and that the peace I find within

is always there, given freely, abundantly.

Have peace?  Check out Melissa and Six Word Fridays.

Speak, be heard...

Speak your truth,

every single day.

Live your life,

heart in hand.

Love out loud,

while you can.

Silence harsh words.

Let your heart's

true voice speak

volumes of you.

Have something to say?  Dare to speak and be heard!  Visit Melissa to find out more about Six Word Fridays.

I Triple Dog Dare you

Dare to dream of a life

that leaves you inspired, loved, fulfilled.

Dare to live your one life

so others are inspired, loved, fulfilled.

Everyone knows that Triple Dog Dares

may leave you flustered, frozen, stuck.

But the tradeoffs? Stories, laughs, bragging-rights!

What a daring way to live!

In a daring mood?  Triple Dog Dare you to check out Melissa at Making Things Up and learn more about Six Word Fridays!

Charmed...

At first glance, it may seem

that the life I lead today

is the one I've always lived.

The moments that caused many tears

are those that now gleam beautifully.

Those charms on my life's bracelet

are the ones I can talk about

and measure how far I've come

from those days of endless sadness.

Those charms on my bracelet gleam,

cleansed from ever being overlooked, disregarded.

My love, my boys, my family.

These exquisite charms; priceless, delicate, breath-taking,

always make me feel as though

this is the enchanted, wonderful life

I was always meant to live.

Charmed?  Want to share?  Check out Melissa at Making Things Up and Six Word Fridays to find out how!

Last...

Last to sit down to eat.

Last to lay down and sleep.

Last on the to-do list.

Because this too shall pass, unexpectedly.

They will grow, leave the nest.

And I will no longer be

the last one on the list.

So I will savor being last;

the last to tuck them in,

the last to kiss them goodnight.

The last to see them peacefully sleeping,

as I sneak one last glimpse.

Are you last?  Want to tell?  Visit Melissa at Making Things Up for more on Six Word Fridays!

When it's a go...

Red light: gather your thoughts, prepare.

Yellow light: a pause to breathe.

Green light: go forth, obstacle free.

Set your compass, plan your way,

map in hand, dreams unfolding; everyday.

When you know it's a go,

put your best foot forward, ready.

Let yourself be, challenged, marvelously, uniquely.

Let yourself be, always ready, willing.

Do not wait. Ready? Set. Go!

Ready to give it a go?  Visit Melissa at Making Things Up and try out Six Word Fridays!

Anticipation

Crossing the finish line...
Turkey Trot, Thanksgiving Day 2010

About six months ago, with a mere suggestion and an urge to do something different, I decided to start training for a half marathon. I have never been athletic in my entire life. I thought I could help out a worthy cause and challenge myself out of the tightly drawn box I had created around myself.

Little did I know what these six months would bring.

And how that decision would truly challenge me in ways yet unknown.

I did not know the strength I held within myself. I did not know that I could train my body to raise at un-Godly hours, in equally un-Godly temperatures (no eye-rolling Mid-Westerners and North Easterners. 40 degrees is COLD in Florida!)

But now, the half marathon is a mere six days away. I am nervous. I am excited.

I am changed.

I set out to do something I thought was impossible six months ago. The thought of raising over $1700 was terrifying. The notion that I could make my legs run for 13.1 miles was inconceivable.

Yet, here we are. Nearing the end of one goal, embarking on the start of other ones.

One half marathon in six days. A 5k in two weeks. Another half marathon four weeks from now. And plans for yet another half marathon before the end of the year.

Yet another piece falls in place in this puzzle that is my life.

Had I not had this all encompassing task, I surely would have handled my dear mother in law's cancer with a bit less humor and a whole lot of anxiety. At least for me, nothing makes me feel better and change my perspective than keeping busy, preferably with something such as this, that makes me oh-so uncomfortable, AND helps others.

So dear readers, I am in the final countdown. I am mentally preparing packing lists, have decorated my team shirt and am constantly encouraged by three little guys who totally rock my world. Those three little guys who make me want to work harder at being the person they think I am.

Slowly but surely, I am getting there.

Hopefully, I will cross that finish line Sunday morning without dissolving into tears, with a time that I can be proud of. And then, I can take the next step, into the next chapter, knowing that I can do just about anything.

It's a wonderful life...

One of my favorite movies of all time is Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life, starring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. Poor George Bailey thinks that his life is a failure, but fails to realize how many lives he has touched with kindness and love. Regardless of how many times I watch it, I always am overwhelmed at the end of the movie when George Bailey's family receives so much love and support from the very people they committed their lives to helping.

In his darkest hour, George got what he needed, not what he wanted.

The same could be said for us this Christmas.

* * * * * * * * * *

Every year, our little family gets together, to share in the revelry of the season. We eat, we laugh, we exchange presents. And save for a few scheduled absentees, we are all together.

This year was the exception. Kind of. And in spite of all the anxiety and sadness that it would not be like it always is, it was exactly what we needed. And certainly not how we wanted it to be.

Make no mistake. In spite of all of it, it was a gift.

John's mom had surgery a few days before Christmas. After much deliberation, John and I decided to cancel our "normal" plans. It was hard to do, thinking that our "people" would be disappointed.

When our "regulars" for our Christmas Eve get together found out the reason we were cancelling (only the second time in fifteen years, folks), they offered words of love and hope. My sister stepped up to the plate and hosted the dinner for the immediate family.

On the 23rd, I made my traditional dinner, on a much smaller scale. Because I was feeding only one person. My beloved father in law. I didn't care what was going on. I did not want Dad to have hospital food on Christmas Eve. John made the drop off and visited with his mom for a while. He met me at home, after the boys and I attended Christmas Eve Mass, and we headed over to my sister's.

My sister had a lovely meal prepared. We shared a quiet evening with our "extended" family. We came home early.

Christmas morning brought three little boys to our bedside, excited about Santa's visit the night before. We saw our children open their presents with the same happiness they always have. We made plans to head out to see Mom and Dad at the hospital. And bring food to share with Dad. To have Christmas dinner, together. In spite of this year's events. But more importantly, because of this year's events.

The happiest memory I will have of this Christmas was the joy on Mom's face as she viewed a special message from the boys on my cell phone. Of seeing her face as the older boys got to hug her. Of how normal they were, in spite of the abnormality of this year.

Best of all, Mom's stay at the hospital was pretty short once she recovered from surgery. She came home. And we came back to their house to celebrate Christmas and New Year's with them and my brother and sister in law who traveled to share the holiday with us. Dear childhood friends of John, in town from Alabama, made the trek two hours north to see my mother in law on New Year's Eve.

There were several important lessons learned this year. Traditions, as beautiful as they are, are not truly necessary in order to have the "perfect" holiday. What is necessary is to have an open heart. To love deeply and truly. To accept the good that inevitably comes back to you when you are true to your own heart and to those you love.

Mom learned that lesson this year. Emotionally.  Gracefully. Beautifully.
I learned that lesson this year. Wholeheartedly. Gratefully. Blessedly.

As uncomfortable as I am with some kinds of change, I learned that change is good. Even in bad circumstances. Especially in bad circumstances. That even though change scares me, I was open to this total upheaval. Because at the end of the day, you want to be with those you love most in the world. And you want to make them happy.

This Christmas will surely stand out as the year that...

The year that Grandma was sick.

The year that we did things differently.

The year that we learned to let go of those things that hinder us. The year that we learned that Christmas is on the 25th of December, but it can really be celebrated any day, each day, with the same generosity of spirit.

                                                             * * * * * * * * * *

At the end of the movie, George is overcome with gratitude. Gratitude for his family and friends. Gratitude for the way he has lived his life; with honor and integrity. Gratitude for the multitude of blessings he was unable to recognize at one time, but now sees clearly.

This year, my greatest wish was to have my family together.

And I did.

Not in the loud, gargantuan way I have had them in the past.

But in small pieces.

To savor.

To enjoy.

And, most importantly, to recognize this blessing.

And to be grateful for it.

10 miles of me, my thoughts...and my legs running

As many of you who follow this blog know, I am training for a half marathon in late January.

For many of you who know me personally, you must know that Armageddon must be coming upon us rather quickly.

Because I am not an athletic person.

And because up until August of this year, only bodily fluids exploding out of my children's beings (or blood curdling screams), got my ass up and running in record speed.

But my neighbor, who is always full of ideas, decided that this would be a great challenge for us to undertake.

Fortunately, we are not training without serious help. We are raising money for The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and their affiliate Team In Training, which take a slug like me and makes them marathon ready.

How ready, you ask?

Ten miles in a little over two hours this past Saturday ready.

Yes. Ten miles. 135 minutes. This Saturday. And I am still upright.

At first, I thought my biggest challenge would be raising the $1700 for Leukemia and Lymphoma research. But, as of last month, not only had I reached my goal, I surpassed it.

Then came the REALLY early in the morning runs. We're talking 4:30 am people. And yet, I found that not only can I get up at that time, but I can actually run, if given the appropriate soundtrack, AND feel good for the rest of the day.

And even more surprising? When I don't get up at un-Godly hours to run a ridiculous distance, I feel TERRIBLE. I feel guilty for sleeping until the "late" 6:45 a.m. time.

But what I am enjoying the most on the mornings I run (O.K., besides bragging rights to my thoroughly impressed third graders) is the time to think, by myself, for a good hour.

Because even though a huge range of musical genres are blaring through my wireless headphones, my mind is still. I don't have a thousand jumbled messages getting crossed in transmission. Thoughts are not getting pushed aside by the day's impeding agenda.

It is impossible not to clear your mind when you run. Granted, I didn't run straight through for ten miles on Saturday. I did intervals of two minute, fast paced walks and one and a half minute runs. But when you are exerting that kind of force, you must focus on breathing, on moving one leg in front of the other, rapidly.

And with each breath, each foot in front of the other, I pushed myself to do something I never thought I could do. As I neared the final intersection before reaching our ending point, the smile on my face was huge. I knew I could do anything.

In January, I will run the ING Miami Half Marathon. I will have raised the most money I have ever raised; by myself. I will run for two and a half hours; I will cross that finish line. I will have time to think about the magnitude of what I am doing, and who I am doing it for. I will have done something solely for the good of others.

In February, I will run the Disney Princess Half Marathon. This will be just for me. I will run for two and a half hours; I will cross that finish line. I will have time to think about the magnitude of what I am doing, and who I am doing it for.

I will know that I am strong in body, not just spirit.

And I will have done something solely good for me.

This will be JUST for ME.

Holding on, letting go

Much of life is learning when to hold on, learning when to let go. For some of us, that lesson is especially hard, particularly when it comes to family. All too often, we end up holding on to the stuff we should be letting go, and letting go of the stuff that truly matters.

When it comes to parenting, it is much easier to hold on than to let go.

Joshua is coming into his own. No more potty accidents, he can wipe his own ass, and after a major back pack packing boot camp last night, he was able to pack up his nap items by himself. For the last few mornings, Joshua has been a fountain of love. Hugging, kissing, flashing those sweet eyes and chirping in his sweet toddler voice. The letting go has been a challenge, to say the least.

I am happy that he is becoming more self sufficient. But I am a little sad too.

Because my babies are growing up. And as they depend less on me, I find myself wondering how my role as a mother is changing. Don't misunderstand. As much as I loved that newborn stage, where they snuggled and nursed, it was EXHAUSTING. Three times over. And the stages that came after that were no easier. It was hard physical labor, constantly second guessing yourself, never knowing if what you were doing was right or wrong. Wondering when this tiny person would be able to tell you when they felt bad, what hurt, if what you are doing is helping at all.

Tough days. Rewards in gas induced smiles, outstretched, fat arms reaching for you. Sloppy kisses and cooing.

And life goes on. Sloppy kisses make way to grunts of recognition, excited tales of adventures at school. Hand holding at the grocery store parking lot. You take what you can get.

As your children get older, the challenges come in different forms, and you struggle with the decisions you make. Your brain knows the decision is a right one, your heart has a hard time believing it.

Just recently, John and I decided it would be good for Matthew to join a Tween Group at the church where Joshua goes to school. It meant a big deal to me that he try it because he would be able to reconnect with some preschool friends that attend different elementary schools. It meant that he would get to experience different experiences without us. And that was particularly hard for me. Because we have always done things together. Because I never had the opportunity as a child and always wished I had.

But more than that, I am able to see that my older son has a life apart from us. Not in a huge way yet. But it is starting to take shape. And as a parent, that is frightening. It means letting go of your child (to a certain extent) and hoping like hell that the lessons you have been teaching have sunken in, grown roots, been learned.

Yet, we still hold on. To mementos; tiny baby clothes, shaky, uneven happy faces and preschool watercolor masterpieces that help us remember and hold close the babies we once carried, fed, cuddled, and have left us to preschool, elementary school, Tween groups.

So much change. So little time. So many more to come.

For the record, Matthew had an awesome time. I think he really enjoyed doing something outside of the "circle" with kids his own age. I think it made him feel more "grown-up" to have different plans than those of his other brothers. Andrew really enjoyed being the "oldest" while Matthew was gone. He had a great time with Joshua, not having to battle for attention from him. Joshua loved having the attention of just one brother, versus the fight of two over him.

And John and I? We were a little lost, but thinking about the days when there were two instead of three. And then three. And how difficult it was, for a while. And how things seem to be calming down a bit. And how, in spite of all the ass wiping and group activities and new challenges, we miss those days of sweet baby smell and tiny fingers and toes.

And we reevaluate.

We adjust to the new role of parenting that requires less hard physical labor, but more attention to detail and wit.

You go from diaper bags to thinking about handing over a cell phone so that you can keep tabs (Hey, no judgment out there, ok? I am just THINKING about it!).

And the paradigm shifts yet again. You feel unsettled as you charter through new territory and learn to test out your sea legs. You muddle through and pray you are on the right course.

You hold on. And somehow, you never forget how it felt to want to be understood. You remember how it felt when you got to do things on your "own."

And when you see that same expression of surprise and confidence in your own child when you let go a little, you know that you are on the right track.

You let go.

Helpful back to school tips or how not to piss off your child's teacher before school starts

As many of you know, I am a school teacher. I have been teaching for sixteen (!) years. Throughout the many years I have educated children, I have encountered all kinds of children and parents. Just so you know, there can be a lot of "problem" children out there, but "bad" parents are by far the worst problem teachers have to deal with throughout the school year.

I have decided to share some helpful tips for all you lucky people who don't start school until AFTER Labor Day, as the good Lord intended.

1. Please do not disturb a teacher before school starts. This means refraining from introducing yourself to said teacher as she is head deep in opened and unopened boxes, when her room closely resembles Hiroshima after the bomb went off or in the full throes of the nervous breakdown that occurs when we realize the summer is over and school starts in a mere four days from now. This also includes sending emails telling her how gifted your child is, asking what supplies to bring. Bear in mind that any of these actions can remind her that the summer is over.

2. If you decide to come and show your child where his or her classroom is, please make yourself scarce. Teachers who need to move boxes, furniture and books do not tend to look where they are going. Once they gain some momentum on their hand trucks, they forge full speed ahead, rarely noticing if they are running over pedestrians. This is especially true of short teachers, such as myself, who usually pack hand trucks and carts to above my eye level, making a line of vision impossible. Consider yourself warned.

3. Please do not tell us how you can't wait to send your child to school, how the summer was endless and your child was driving you nuts because they were bored. You are not making a good first impression. More importantly, your child's teacher not only has to deal with your "angel." She has 36 other little "angels" whose mothers are desperate to unload come the beginning of school. For the record, we are not here to entertain. We are here to educate. You are not inspiring confidence in us when you relate your anecdotes. Truly.

4. We get the issues your child has with homework. We have kids too. We also have classwork assignments that we have to pull teeth in order to get done. You have our sympathy. It is an unpleasant part of parenting. Get over it.

5. Be truthful of your child's strengths and weaknesses. We will figure them out sooner rather than later. It would be nice to have a heads up so we can address it quickly and efficiently and help your child succeed. We like nothing better than to have a successful academic year and confident students, in spite of what you may have heard about us.

6. Don't schedule teacher conferences the first week of school to gossip about your ex-husband and his new girlfriend. Discuss what is pertinent to your child's educational and emotional well being. We don't like tattling from adults either.

7. Please refrain from blaming your child's prior year's teacher for all your child's academic shortcomings. Surely, uninterrupted TV and video games for the last ten weeks did nothing to strengthen their academic progress. The tons of junk food and soda did not help either.

8. Please, please don't put sodas, cookies, chips and candy in your child's lunch box and call it a lunch. Call it what it is. A teacher's nightmare.

9. Teachers are people too. We have many responsibilities and obligations, inside of the classroom and in our personal lives. Please don't get upset if we don't respond within five minutes of you leaving a message in the main office or sending us an email. We are teaching.

10. If we call you with a concern, we are not picking on your child. We truly have your child's best interest at heart. But when push comes to shove, you are ultimately responsible for your child. We know parenting is hard. Most of us have children of our own. We share the same anxieties and insecurities in our own parenting. As teachers, we know your child in a way you will never know, just as parents know their children in ways teachers never know. We get it. But we are here to help.

11. The way to a teacher's heart is through kindness. There are only so many scented soaps we can use and necklace sets we can wear. If you think we have really touched your child's life, write us a letter. Let us know what we did right so that we can do it again and reach another child. Keep in touch with us throughout the years. We love to hear how our students are doing in other grades, as they get older.

12. Be enthusiastic. Your child will pick up on it. It will make all the difference between having a good year and having a phenomenal year!

Expecting the unexpected...

It seems that the news of a new baby coming to this world is somewhat commonplace within my social circle. Either someone is just ready to deliver, or they have just found out the biggest news of their lives. Sometimes, the reaction is joyful, but for some, in the early days of this confirmed news, their minds cannot accept what their bodies have been telling them for weeks.

It is hard for someone who doesn't have children and desperately wants one to hear of such reaction. I used to be one of those women who seemed to be the most infertile amongst the most fertile. While I was trying to conceive Matthew, everyone around me seemed to be pregnant. Some wailed that it had taken so long (2 months of old fashioned trying) and others bemoaned that it was an accident. In my un-mothered heart, I could not understand how a life was an accident.

I remember the sinking feeling I got at seeing a positive sign on the pregnancy test when I found out I was pregnant with Matthew. I knew my life was changing. I had no idea in how many ways.

I became a mother of one beautiful baby boy. And I understood the challenges of keeping up with my own personal hygiene and appearance, holding down a demanding job, keeping a home functional, of paying bills with a teething infant wailing in the background.

I understood how hard it was.

And then I had two little boys. The second one had a mind of his own and a temperament to match. I now juggled two crying babies, a household, a full time job and other parental responsibilities. No easy task.

But my heart yearned for another little bundle. It made it easier for us that Andrew turned four a couple of days after Joshua was born. But it was still difficult to now juggle a third child in this already busy, full life.

I would imagine that getting the news that you are pregnant when you are not mentally or emotionally ready to welcome a (or another) child into your life is frightening. I understand the anxiety, the fear, and then equally as powerful, the guilt for feeling this way. For how you must seem to others. For how you fear your unborn child will be affected by this powerful, but fleeting bundle of emotions, exponentially compounded by the hormones coursing through your body. Of admitting it to yourself and still be able to look at yourself in the mirror.

Like anything, it takes time and patience. Time to get your mind around this new person, how he or she will affect your life, time to adjust your way of thinking and feeling. Patience to not beat yourself up, to forgive yourself for a totally understandable set of emotions, for the awkwardness within your own heart and body.

To let go of the guilt. Because guilt is useless.

A long time ago, I learned to expect the unexpected (a la Welcome Back, Kotter...). There is no use in worrying about something that may or may not happen. There is no sense in draining whatever happiness you may have at the moment by creating imagined circumstances.

Motherhood awards us with the ability to complete impossible tasks, under dire circumstances, in the midst of every obstacle imaginable. It toughens us, makes us pliable, sentimental, decisive, combative when necessary, lenient, mistaken, right: a paradox of our former selves.

In expecting the unexpected, you understand that there are a lot of things that lie outside our scope of control. Life is a series of unexpected's that happen. We make the best of them.

We laugh in spite of them.

We cry because of them.

But sometimes, those unexpected's bring the most joy.

And for my dear mother in law, who celebrates 68 years on this Earth and makes it look easy, a very Happy Birthday to you!

!!!-Intentional Happiness for the week of July 16, 2010

After a whirlwind of cleaning up and organizing, I am as done as I can be. Every major closet is organized, months of bill statements have finally been organized, kitchen is in tip top shape, even the garage is cleaned up and organized. That is some serious !!!

But bigger than that is what the organizing and purging has done for my soul. For the last couple of years, my summers have been consumed by the needs of others, leaving little time for my own needs, let alone wants.

Three summers ago, I had a newborn. Although we did some traveling with our newly expanded family of three, caring for three small kids left me drained of any energy to tackle things such as closets and unfiled bills. I was barely surviving.

Two summers ago, my sister had a newborn. And was pregnant. So we tackled everything that needed tackling, together, with four kids.

Last summer, my mother's failing health forced whatever plans I had to the back burner. My sister now had two babies, 13 months apart. Together, with our now five children, we put my mother's affairs in order, and set on unchartered territory: caring for an elderly parent with a degenerative condition.

This summer, I reclaimed my freedom. In the midst of all that cleaning and organizing, I seemed to remember and find my way back to who I used to be and who I am trying to become.

And so this week, the French celebrated Bastille Day, commemorating the beginning of the French Revolution that eventually dismantled the Monarchy.

Twenty one years ago, on Bastille Day, a sixteen year old Cuban girl FINALLY got her driver's license. And with it, she opened a whole new world for herself. Major !!!

And now, twenty one years later, I am learning to fly by the seat of my pants, charter into new territories and relearn how to have fun. Case in point, a day trip to Sanibel Island to see my husband's aunt and uncle from Atlanta and their grown children and young grandchildren. Totally spur of the moment, total !!! to see the next generation of cousins play and have fun! Plus beach time is always worthy of !!!

Continued success with the potty training!!! A clean AC condensation line thanks to my wonderful main man!!! A sisters only movie night to see Eclipse!!! No children with us at the movie theater and swooning over Jacob's abs; double !!!

That being said, sometimes the greatest !!! comes from standing outside our comfort zone, confronting our fears and looking them dead in the eye and realizing that they hold no longer hold power over you.

Sometimes, those lessons take a very long time to be learned and understood. But once they are learned, they are your license to happiness...

Try it, you'll like it

In becoming a mother, you kind of have to put your money where your mouth is. You can't expect your kids to try new stuff if you rarely venture too far from coloring outside the lines.

In the almost ten years I became a mother, I have learned to swim, tried all kinds of food that would have never even been a choice, flown across the country, and lately, have pushed my physical limits. I have slowly, consistently and consciously put myself in situations my children know make me squirm to show them that trying something new is not a bad thing, but something that should be embraced.

Case in point: Zumba.

I know what you are thinking, how could a Cuban girl be fearful of fast paced music and dance moves.

'Cause this Cuban married an American. And because for all the Spanish blood in me, I got no real rhythm.

I can barely carry sheet music in a bag.

But I did it. I was in that class. I tried to keep up, and did okay.

For those not familiar, Zumba is fast paced aerobics class, set to fast Latin music, and were the instructors incorporate Latin dance moves. Key word here is FAST!

My neighbor and I stood in line, waiting for the class. When the doors finally opened, there was barely any room, but we managed to carve out a small piece of floor for ourselves. And the class began.

Of course, as in anything, there were people who really seemed to know what they were doing and were in total sync with the instructor. There were other people who could not keep up, and eventually, walked out of the class.

Somehow, though, I refused to walk out. It is funny, how your mind won't let you back down out of a situation. I did not want to walk out of that room a second before that class ended. And although I had some trouble keeping up, mainly because of the crowded dance floor and the fact that I was towards the back of the room, which is not the best place for a short person, I hung on. And I was glad I did.

But as I notice myself trying all kinds of new things, I am beginning to see my children venture out and try new stuff too.

Like salad. And I use that term loosely, since the actual salad only consists of lettuce and Caesar dressing.

And sticking to commitments that, I am sure, they would rather not think about, but seem to enjoy once they get going, like tennis.

All this to say that change is good.

Adventure is even better.

And doing it surrounded with like-minded people is ALWAYS more enjoyable.