10 things I want(ed) to be when I grow up

Last week I had dinner with one of my favorite people, a dear friend who is very much like me on many things, but oh-so different from me on one very big thing. That big thing being parenting.

It's not that my friend and I have different parenting philosophies, it's that she isn't a parent at all, never wanted to be a parent, a mom. Ever. I, on the other hand, am a mom, have always wanted to be a mom. From the time I was a child, the position of Mom has been at the very top of my list of things I wanted to be when I grew up.

Being a mom wasn't the only thing on my list of things I want to be when I grow up, though. Here are more:

10 things I want(ed) to be when I grow up

A writer. I remember as far back as middle school, dreaming about being a writer. I became a writer, made a decent living for a short period of time as a writer, continue to be a writer.

A disc jockey. In elementary school, I worked on a presentation with a group, and we chose to present our findings on Mary McCleod Bethune radio style, with intermissions featuring snippets of music. The presentation made me realize I loved playing the part of DJ. Every now and then I still get a hankering to host a radio program ... featuring music, not news or blathering bumbleheads.

A cosmetologist. I wanted to be not just a hairstylist, but a cosmetologist. I went to school for it, was on my way to earning my license. Then I got pregnant, the chemicals weren't a good idea for the baby, and "Beauty School Dropout" became my theme song for a while. (Was soon thankful this dream was never realized!)

Interior designer. Again, started classes. Again, got pregnant ... and decided continuing school was too much for a mom with two little ones and an overworked husband.

Backup singer. I'd still like to be this. I don't want to be in the forefront, the glaring spotlight. But providing backing vocals for the star -- and maybe a solo during the bridge now and then -- would sure get my toes tapping, my hands clapping, and heart soaring.

Parenting magazine editor. Ann Pleshette-Murphy, editor of Parent magazine when my girls were little, was my idol. I've accomplished this one. Not to the degree of Ann, only on a regional parenting publication level, but accomplished just the same. 'Twas one of the highlights -- and much-missed positions -- of my writing/editing career.

Librarian. This was at the top of my list for many years, just below writer. Still is some days. Too bad a library science degree is required.

Bookstore owner. Plan B for sharing books, since a degree isn't required to sell them. Cash is required, though, and I never had it. Proof that things happen -- or don't happen -- for a reason, as I'd surely be suffering the plight of today's independent booksellers.

Pie shop owner. I make pretty good pie. I wanted to share it with others. I planned to call it Pie in the Sky. Or Pie Hopes. Again, no money -- and the rise of the cupcake -- brought those hopes to a fizzle. Although, I've been reading lately that pie is the new cupcake. Hmm ...

Restaurant owner. Witnessing hundreds of college classmates of Megan and Andrea, miles from home and craving Mom's cooking, got me seriously considering starting up a Homesick Restaurant featuring daily specials from mothers across the country (credit to Anne Tyler for the name). The girls graduated before I put the plan into action -- fortunately, as the location was seven hours away in a town I never planned to visit again once they were done with college.

Looking at this list, I see that nearly everything on it, attained or not, has contributed to or enhanced my position as Mom. Cosmetology class provided the tools for cutting and styling the hair of three little girls. Interior Design courses helped me in creating the desired ambiance in my home. DJing and backup singing? Well, I love and share music with my kids; always have, always will. The words I write and share -- whether magazine articles, books or blogs -- are often related to parenting in one way or another. Food fancies require no expanation, as that's what moms do: show their love through food.

Bottom line is this: I may not have done all I once dreamed of, but those dreams made a difference in the one that mattered most, the one that became a reality -- being a mom. And who knows? There's still plenty of time to achieve a few of those on my list I still find appealing.

Anyone up for leading a granny band? If you've got the vocal ability and nerves for centerstage, I'd be all over supporting you with a few doowops and handclaps from behind.

Photo credit: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What did you want to be when you grew up?

10 things I forget I love ... until I remember

I love jams and jellies. Chokecherry, strawberry, pomegranate, cherry. Yum! I eat jam or jelly nearly every day. On peanut butter sandwiches. On crackers. On toast. On English muffins. On bagels. (Not all in the same day, of course.)

Recently though, as I toasted an English muffin, I noticed the honey in the cupboard and decided to travel that oft-ignored culinary road. So I put it on my toasted muffin instead of jelly or jam, took a big bite, and instantly thought, "Yum! Why don't I have honey more often?"

I always forget how much I love honey -- until I experience it again. I do the very same thing with lots of things, especially the following.

10 things I forget I love ... until I remember

1. Feeding the ducks at the park.

2. Cucumber pickles. Ya know, the delicacy that's just sliced cucumbers, vinegar, salt, and pepper.

3. Riding a bike.

4. Wearing a dress. So much more comfy than pants.

5. Singing "Amazing Grace." Like this.

6. Stretching out on the living room floor in front of a blazing fire.

7. Wrapping a wet toddler in a towel and holding him like a swaddled baby.

8. Campfires at night. With marshmallows on sticks and stars up above.

9. Brach's Milk Maid Caramels. Unwrapped slowly. Savored even more slowly.

10. Getting on the scale and the number being much lower than expected.

Okay, No. 10 hasn't happened in a long, long time. Probably because of all those Milk Maids I've been savoring of late. But I have no doubt whatsoever that I will remember how much I love it, if/when I'm fortunate enough to experience it again.

Today's question:

What would be on your list of things you forget you love ... until you remember?

Valentine's Day and other overhyped happenings

Valentine's Day is Monday, which makes this the ultimate weekend of love. Or so we've been made to believe. I'm usually not cynical about much -- I prefer to find the magical in even the mundane -- but Valentine's Day is one of those happenings that has been overhyped and underperforming for years, so it's hard to get all mushy-gushy, misty-eyed and magical about it.

Jim and I have never really made a big deal out of Valentine's Day. Mostly because it seems so forced, so obligatory ... and so packed at restaurants on the big day. We mark it in small ways, nothing huge.

But my daughters want (and deserve) the magical. They want (and deserve) the mushy-gushy. Yet they've spent plenty of Valentine's Days down in the dumps because they're single. Or down in the dumps because they're NOT single and their truly beloved isn't being as lover-ly as he was expected to be.

Bottom line is that Valentine's Day never lives up to the hype. For me or for those I love. So I wish the hype would just go away, disappear from our collective conscience and let love and other things fall where they may.

I don't mean to take only poor Cupid to task, though, for Valentine's Day is far from the only overhyped happening in my experience. Here are a few more:

Lisa's list of things that fall short of their hype

1. Rocky Horror Picture Show ... oh, and Citizen Kane

2. High-school proms and homecomings

3. Turning 30

4. For that matter, turning 16, 18, and 21

5. New Year's Eve

6. Disneyworld

7. Calgon baths

8. Champagne

9. Godiva chocolates

I think the root of the disappointment isn't the happening in itself, it's the expectations surrounding it. So I'm learning to lower my expectations. Better yet, I'm working to have no expectations at all.

My only expectation now is this: That limited expectations just might lead to unexpected mushy-gushy, misty-eyed and magical moments all year long.

If not for myself, then at least for my daughters.

Today's question:

What have you found falls miserably short of its hype?

Is that your final question?

The other day, Jim and I were discussing what happens after death, most importantly, what we'll learn upon passing through the pearly gates and gaining truth and knowledge about anything and everything. (Yeah, we're weird that way.)

One question at the top of Jim's list for which he wants answers relates to the Kennedy assassination and the truth of how many gunmen really were involved. Hmm, that sounds like a reasonable wonder ... I suppose. If I were to gain knowledge about anything related to JFK, I'd be more interested in finding out what the deal was with Marilyn. But that's certainly not at the top of my list. And I do have a list.

Here are a few of the questions I'd really like answered -- truthfully, honestly, fully:

• Why do birds on a wire space themselves perfectly? And how do they know the correct spacing?

• What was the unequivocal meaning of the LOST finale?

• How do monarch butterflies know when and where to migrate? Or salmon know how far upstream to swim? And geese know which goose should be leader of the V?

• What's the story on Jesus' teen years? Was he angsty? Did he mouth off to his parents? Was he bummed about the task facing him in adulthood?

• If two socks go into the dryer but only one comes out, where has the other gone? (And don't tell me the dryer vent hose because I've looked.)

• Why does it take water longer to boil when watched?

• Is there really such a thing as a soul mate? And are we in trouble and deemed lazy if we didn't continue the search until we connected with him or her? If, that is, we didn't connect correctly?

• Related: Is it truly better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?

• What exactly is a craw cookie monster?

• Where do bad folks go when they die, if they really don't go to heaven where the angels fly? Do they go to a lake of fire and fry? And will we see them again on the Fourth of July?

• In the same vein, where have all the flowers gone? And, more importantly, who are you? Who, who? Who, who? I really wanna know.

• Is it true that elephants remember everyone they've met? Oh, and are they embarrassed that humans think they're scared of mice?

• Come to think of it, do animals get embarrassed?

• If you're chosen to be a contestant on Minute To Win It, do they ask you if you're tone deaf, just to ensure they're not setting you up for failure by giving you the Spoon Tune challenge?

Oh, my. So, so many questions, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. I look forward to one day learning all the answers to all my questions.

Once I propose my list to the Keeper of All Knowledge, though, I have a sneaky feeling his/her question to me will be, "Why are you such a dumbcuss making light of such things?"

In that case, I'll just shrug my shoulders and say, "I dunno. You tell me!"

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What question(s) would you like answered?

Battling my personal lemons

I keep seeing featured in the JCPenney ad the red loveseat Jim and I bought just after moving into our house. Because we have so many stairs, we needed a spot for his mom to sleep on the main level when she visited, and the loveseat was the perfect solution because it pulled out to a single bed but would look fine the rest of the time as a loveseat in the study.

Well, each time I see it in the ad I cringe because that loveseat is The. Most. Uncomfortable. Piece. Of. Furniture. Ever. At least in the "loveseat" configuration. (I've never slept on it as a bed; the few who have haven't complained).

Unfortunately that little loveseat expenditure is not the only unwise purchase we've ever made. Here are a few others:

Boxed gnocchi. One of my goals this year is to try out more recipes instead of relying on old standbys. What I've learned so far: boxed gnocchi = yucky. Jim agrees.

Our hot tub. We bought a hot tub at our old house and the girls used it more than we did. We left it when we sold our house because our new house has one. Jim's never been in it; I've only been in it once ... when I fell in it by accident. We clean it, fill it, keep it chemical-ed up -- we just never use it.

Cheri, starring Michelle Pfeiffer. This one's not technically a purchase as it was a Netflix movie rental, so it didn't really cost us any money. But it did cost us time -- and it was the biggest waste of our time ever.

My Reebok EasyTone walking shoes. Both my doctor and physical therapist call them a "gimmick" -- and attribute a portion of my current disc trouble to them.

Black & Decker appliances. Toasters, food processors, mixers, coffee pots. Many throughout the years. None worked correctly or for very long. Why did it take me years -- and lots of money -- to realize B&D may be good at making tools but they stink at small appliances?

Smooth-Away. Yeah, an infomercial sucked me in. I bought FOUR -- one for each of the girls and myself. (Well ... they were BOGO, for heaven's sake!). Never again.

Squiggles. I thought I'd amaze Bubby with the magical squirmy thing. I couldn't get it to squirm or squiggle ... but Bubby did enjoy dragging it around on its string as if it were a trained caterpillar.

Keurig 'My K-Cup' insert. Megan and Preston kindly bought us a Keurig for Christmas. We drink a lot of coffee and thought the insert would be nice for using our own coffee instead of the K-Cups. Um, no. We'll stick with the K-cups. (It does work well, though, for using a tea bag to brew a single cup of tea.)

Photo: flickr

Today's question:

What is on your list of unwise purchases?