The Things We Almost Forget

I've recently had a few incidents of what may be early-onset dementia. There have been brief glimpses of something that triggered a long forgotten memory. It's like mental whiplash.

This afternoon I saw a guy on a motorcycle. I've seen people on bikes probably every day for the last three months but for some reason, today's biker lead me down the "I wonder if I might like to ride on a motorcycle...?" path.

All of a sudden, and only for an instant, I flashed back 20 years. I was speeding across the Williamstown bridge in Jason Burfield's car. We may or may not have been going over 100. I can neither confirm or deny. I had that top-of-the-roller-coaster feeling - thrilling and intensely nauseous.

And - BOOM - I was back. In a millisecond I had had that memory and was back with my definitive answer: No, I would NOT like to ride on a motorcycle.

This is a memory that I had no idea was retained. A memory I literally hadn't thought about for 20 years. It was like it was on the verge of being forgotten until I saw the motorcycle and then it came slamming to the front of my brain. There have been several of these almost-forgotten memories lately, and I find it disconcerting.

Is it my age, the nostalgia for my teens and early 20s, that is yanking me headlong into these memories? Is there some kind of connection I am missing that links to the thing I am viewing and the memory and emotion that comes with it? Am I losing my mind?

I have no idea, but it is weird.

Some People Hate Tea

For those of you who have been following along, you may have realized I have some self-esteem issues. If I couldn't be the prettiest, then I was going to be the funniest and if I couldn't be that then I would try something else to make you like me.

I've always marveled at people who can be so authentically, sometimes outrageously, themselves and just go on about it without giving it a thought.

I've had extensive conversations with one friend in particular about this and while his advice was sage, I could never apply it.

There was no "Aha!" moment (sorry, Oprah). There was no life-altering epiphany. One day - and I can't even tell you what day it was - I just decided that some things aren't worth compromising. I've tried to be the nicest, the funniest, the most whatever, and there are people who still don't like me. As a recent FB post recently stated "I am just not some people's cup of tea and I am beginning to be OK with that." In fact, I've realized some people HATE tea. The tea doesn't take it personally. In fact, I think the tea probably says "OK, then, enjoy your coffee."

For a very long time I've been stuck in the teen angst years, just trying to fit in. Now, as I approach 40 faster than I'd like, it isn't about fitting in. It's about authentic friends for whom you'd do anything and who might even return that favor. The people who will always tell you the truth, even if it isn't popular or what you want to hear.

The friends I've had for decades and the friends that I see most frequently (not necessarily the same people) have made it safe for me to be me. They've seen the good, the bad and the downright ugly behavior, and they love me anyway. And made it OK for those who who may not even like me to have that opinion, too.

So now I find myself, in my late 30s, trying to be who and what I really am. Is this when most people find out? I feel like I may be coming late to this particular party, but I'm OK with that. I have a few more decades to evolve and get it right - for me.

Deja Vu Parenting

I recently started to realize that we all parent tainted by the experiences of our own childhood.

One person may have been an overweight child and therefore is super-vigilant about what they feed their kids. Another may have moved frequently throughout their childhood and is now determined to keep their kids in one place throughout their childhood.

One friend has commented more than one "Oh, come on. Your childhood could not have been THAT bad. Your parents are great!" Indeed, they are and in many way I had a fantastic childhood. I had a large family that loved and nurtured me, never wanted for anything and the support of many. I have a lot of great memories.

But many times, the not-so-great memories shape who you are as much as the great memories do (helloooooo... I AM a band geek, no?).

My personal demon is being a social pariah. Moving into a small Catholic school where everyone had been together since Kindergarten was not especially easy in the 5th grade. Adding to this was the fact that there were definitely "Mean Girls" who delighted in the sport of Chrissie Bashing.

Because this was so much of my formative years I am admittedly a bit paranoid about perceived snubs and how Jack is treated. Not great, I know, and I am aware that I do it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, yes? And to be sure, my fabulous experience as a member of the marching band is sure to color how excited I will be should Jack choose to play an instrument (after he is, ahem, strongly encouraged to do so).

So I am curious, what moments from your childhood color your parenting?

Back in the Saddle

I was surprised to realize it has been over three months since I posted here. I stopped because someone mentioned that my posts don't sounds happy anymore.

In the three months since I have been here, lots of things have changed. Jack's aide Austin started at the JCC. He is helpful but not as aggressive in stemming the troubling behavior as we'd like. Our star Kyley starts in the afternoons with him on Tuesday. She is the one who made such strides in December and we have big hopes for her this summer.

Speaking of Jack, we've experience a lot of "firsts" this spring. We attended our first movie in a theater (Shrek Ever After), attended Kabbalat Shabbat services for the first time and J had his first solo sleepover and Grammy's. I simply cannot believe that this time next year we will be gearing up for Kindergarten.

I have had several "Sunrise, Sunset" moments in the last few weeks. At a recent Bat Mitzvah, a couple had a weeks-old baby at the service. I had a mini panic attack looking at the baby thinking it was only a matter of months - weeks, perhaps - that Jack was that small. I blinked at looked at the Bat Mitzvah gal and realized it was only going to be a matter of months - weeks, perhaps - until we are celebrating Jack's Bar Mitzvah. I literally could not breathe for 30 or 40 seconds.

This morning, we went to see "Toy Story 3" with Little Dude. I'm not ruining this for anyone, but we all know Andy goes off to college. I cried like a baby for the last 5 minutes of the stupid film and and getting a bit teary typing this now thinking of how short the weeks and months are (even though some days seem interminable). I try to play more, hold him close while he still lets me and kiss him every chance I get, but I still have Bad Mommy Moments and I fear those are the ones that will send him to therapy.

Work continues to be good and busy. I took over the e-news in May and, by all accounts, the members are very happy with it. I went to 25 hours in May as well, and am supposed to be jumping to 35 in July. My house is a disaster at 25 hours. When I add 2 more hours a day, I imagine FEMA will be called in by mid-August.

Osi and I are plugging along. We'll be married 10 years in November. We're hemming and hawing over a vow renewal with an actual person of God to witness this time, in the fall. I swear to you that my Italian Catholic grandparents still have no idea what happened at my wedding. There was "Ave Maria" and the breaking of the glass. I'm pretty sure when everyone else yelled "Mazel Tov" they murmured a "gesuntheit."

That is all the news fit to type for now. Here's hoping it isn't another 3 months until I speak again.

PS - See, Shan. Every work is not a masterpiece, comic genius, profound or even funny. Sometimes they're just brain droppings :)

Time to Bust Out the Bikini - It's March!

Ohioans have a complicated relationship with our weather. When it hits 50 degrees in March, we start wearing shorts. When it hits 50 degrees in November, we turn on the furnace and drag out the parkas.

Another thrill of being a Buckeye? The tail end of cold season dovetails nicely with the beginning of allergy season. I still can't tell you if the congestion in April is from a lingering sinus infection or the beginning of allergies (yes, I KNOW nothing has bloomed yet. Please note the sarcasm.).

In February, you cannot find a pair of gloves in any local store to save your life, but if you need a string bikini fr Valentine's Day, Columbus is the place to find it.

Let us discuss snow for a moment, shall we? Granted, we do not get as much as Buffalo or Cleveland. However, we DO get enough each year to a) be prepared when it is coming (The White Death!) and b) know how to deal with it when it gets here.

Allow me to clarify: "Prepare for it" does not mean stripping the local shelves of bread, milk and eggs (apparently, Ohioans crave french toast when it snows). It also does not mean canceling events 48 hours before the snow is supposed to hit.

Now that the sun is out, after, I swear, a month of gray days, we don't know what to do with ourselves. Teenagers are showing more skin walking to school than I do at the beach. I actually saw a lawn crew mowing last week. People. Please. I implore you, just buy your mulch at the local BP station and wait it out.

Spring is upon us. If it is March in Ohio, it must mean sprinklers and kiddie pools! It will be 57 today. I guarantee I see some nimrod in shorts. People, pace yourselves. I cringe to think what you'll be wearing in August if March is shorts weather.