Anyone who knows me or sees my posts on Facebook knows that I am always saying I would go back in time to when my kids were little in a heartbeat. I don’t necessarily want to do things over. I just want a chance to go back and savor it all. Really enjoy my time with my babies and watch closely as they become the extraordinary people they are today.

The real question is… and I struggle with this sometimes….. would I go back and change things–things I’ve done, choices I’ve made, paths I’ve taken–if I could?

This is such a tough question for me personally. Do I wish I would have gone in a different direction career-wise? Yes, I do. I don’t think I put enough thought into it at the time. I think I wanted to be a teacher at some point when I was younger. Then I wanted to be a computer programmer, like my father. I wish I would have stuck with that. Around the time when I lost interest in that, I decided to get an Accounting degree and call it a day because I really wanted to get married and have kids. I kinda wish my mother would have smacked me on the back of the head like Cher in Moonstruck and told me to snap out of it. Just kidding…..I think.

That is not to say that I am unhappy with my decision to become a mother and stay home to raise my kids. I know how incredibly lucky I was to have been able to do that. For sure. I just kinda wish there was more, in a way. When I think about college now, since my kids are all at that age, I think about what I could have done. Could I have gone into medicine? I sometimes wish someone, anyone, would have suggested that to me back then. I had the brain for it and it all fascinates me now. I think I would have loved medical research of some kind.  An opportunity missed? I don’t know. I don’t think parents really pushed us kids back then to really find what we love and go after it. Or maybe that was just mine? Or… maybe I didn’t really have a passion for anything back then. I honestly just don’t know. Perhaps I’m just too old to remember now….yikes.

If I could actually go back and change things, what would that mean? Would I still have met my husband when I did? Would I still have my 3 kids? What would be the same? What would be different? It’s strange to think of it this way, isn’t it?

Regardless, I guess one could say every decision I made, every path I decided to take, led me to where I am now and in all honesty, it’s a pretty good place to be. I have a wonderful husband who puts up with me (believe it or not, that’s not always easy) and 3 amazing kids who all have bright, exciting futures ahead of them. I will live vicariously through them as they follow their passion and reach for those stars…

So, I guess that means…..no, I would not change my past if I could. I could never, and would never want to, give up everything and everyone I have now. Not for anything…

Until next time……

Candidly,

Donna

 

 

 

 

Are you a fan of Reality TV? So many people seem to love it, but I just don’t get it. From what I understand, it is usually scripted and controlled. That’s not really reality, is it? The only “reality” shows I have watched are things like American Idol, Dancing with the  Stars, etc., shows that showcase actual talent and competition. May the best singer, dancer, etc., win. One can argue that these shows are more of a popularity contest once they let the viewers have a vote. I no longer watch either of these shows. I lost interest. Another that I do watch occasionally is Shark Tank. Again, showcasing actual talent and great ideas and then watching them come to fruition and have great success. I’ve even purchased one or two things I’ve seen on the show. Enjoyable.

The shows that baffle me are things like The Bachelor. Why, oh why, would anyone want to be on a show like this and why do people watch it? Do we really believe these people fall in love in these situations? Is it truly about finding your soul mate or is it more about grabbing that 15 minutes of fame and hoping something else comes out of it….

The same can be said for most of the shows that I see my husband tune in to on the weekends. Cheaters is a favorite. Drives me crazy. Why do people want to watch peoples’ lives get destroyed? I will admit that some of the fights these couples have are hilarious, but still….what a horrible premise for a show. Another is 90 Day Fiance. Really? Sometimes I will look up in amazement when this is on, just stunned that this is actually a show that people watch.

Anything Kardashian makes me want to gag. Do people really care what goes on with these absurd people? Why? Teen Mom is one that actually makes me cringe though I have never watched it. The idea of making teenagers who get pregnant  famous, thus encouraging others to perhaps do so is kinda gross to me. But what do I know?

Then there’s Love After Lock-up. I’m sorry, what??? I have no words. Mama June…again, no words. Well, maybe one word…NO. Do people really watch that? All those Real Housewives of wherever…again, why? Who cares? Why do people care? My husband and one of his co-workers claim it is an escape from their crazy week. I guess that makes sense–to numb your mind with useless crazy crap after dealing with stressful stuff all week.. My husband says watching General Hospital is even worse. I disagree. I watch that for entertainment only. I know it’s fake and it doesn’t claim to be otherwise. Quite frankly it makes me feel better about my own life….sort of a temporary escape.

Anyway, what reality shows do you watch? Drop me a comment and let me know…

Until next time..

Candidly,

Donna

My beautiful grandmother turns 100 today! How amazing is that?! I need 100 more years with her. That’s for sure. I know that’s not possible but…… today is about celebrating how awesome she is….

Fun fact: up until a few short years ago, we celebrated my grandmother’s birthday on September 7th. Then I found out that her birthday is actually August 7th. I thought there was some kind of discrepancy with her birth certificate or something and that was the reason we all thought it was in September. Nope. I just found out that the reason we celebrated it in September is because she hates August. Yup. That’s right. She hates August. Who does that?

At 100 years old, my grandmother still has her faculties. She forgets stuff and repeats herself – a lot – but her memory is intact and her sense of humor is still wicked. Her body is frail and tiny but she still has an incredible head of beautiful grey hair. She tells me stories, many that I have never heard before. Things about her parents, her childhood etc. She also likes to tell me about when I was little and what a pain in the ass I was. When we lived in West Hempstead she lived upstairs in our house. My siblings and I would spend so much time up there with her. Well, she had these little pieces of soap that were shaped like little flowers that she kept in her bathroom. They were for show. Apparently I liked the way they smelled so I would use them all the time and she would catch me and get so mad. Sounds like me.

She also told me a story about one of her sisters who used to watch the 3 of us kids. She was an intimidating woman–to a kid, I guess– and she made my brother cry one time. Well, apparently, I was a tough little thing and went right up to her with my finger and said, “you made my brother cry, I’m telling my mother”! She was stunned that I wasn’t afraid of her. Again, sounds like me.

I remember every summer getting to spend a whole week with my grandparents. We all got a week each with them. Best week ever. There is nothing better than a grandmother’s love. I remember feeling……. important, significant, loved. It sticks with you as you grow older. I can still feel it when I see her or talk to her. Nothing like it. Nothing better.

As an adult, I would drive out to Ridgewood with my kids, my sister, my niece and my mother to spend the day with my grandparents. My grandmother would always make her famous potato and egg and pepper and egg omelets. OMG were those delicious. Sometimes, if we were really lucky, she’d fry up some eggplant too. I’m so hungry right now just thinking about it… She’d also make pasta for the kids which Nicole always called “Nanny pasta”. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a time machine right now…..and some fried eggplant…

I’d argue with anyone who would dare to challenge the notion that my grandmother is the best grandmother ever. Sorry, you’d lose that debate. Although I’m 52, she still makes me feel like that kid who looked forward to that week with her every summer. That kid who felt like she was the most important kid in the world for a little while. That kid who is loved unconditionally by the most amazing woman she’ll ever know.

I love you more than any words could ever adequately express. Happy 100th Birthday, Nanny…..

Love you forever,

Your sassy little pain in the ass,

Donna

 

 

“You’re at that age”…..  This lovely little sentence was directed at me just a few short years ago by a doctor who thought my sudden intense pain could be gall stones. It wasn’t. I am happy to say that I had enough self control to not punch him in the throat when he said it. I think my actual reply was something like, “I’m sorry, what?!”

Once my mini crisis was over, I got to thinking about what he said and boy, was I pissed. Not at him necessarily, just pissed. I got old. How did that happen? When did that happen??!! I mean, he was right. I was suddenly at that age where things start happening. Bad things. Annoying things. Take my eyesight, for example. I now have reading glasses everywhere. I bought a bunch of them and keep them in my truck, on my night table, in the bathroom (because nobody can argue that the writing on shampoo bottles is big enough to see, right?),  in my desk at work, on the counter in the kitchen, in my handbag….. you get the picture. The first time I took them out in a restaurant my kids thoroughly enjoyed making fun of me. It was dark in there!

I should also mention that if I drop something now, I whimper a little bit because I just don’t want to bend to pick it up. And my thumb hurts. I think I hurt it at work months ago. Thought it was ok but it still hurts sporadically depending on what I am doing. Is that an injury? Arthritis?!!! My knees suck too. One day recently, my knee just decided to hurt. A lot. I could barely walk on it for a few hours. Want to know how I hurt it? Yea, me too. I have no idea. I was standing at a counter at work and twisted around a little to see something and BAM! What the hell??!! Is this the way it’s going to be now? Did I mention that intense sneezes or coughs terrify me now too…..I won’t get into why, but I think most of you can probably figure it out…

So, what have we learned today?  We have learned that getting old sucks and that I am old and falling apart. If you aren’t there yet, don’t worry, you will be soon. And when you are, I’ll be waiting for you with an extra pair of readers for you to borrow til you can get your own….

Candidly, and a little depressed now,

Donna

 

 

We hear people complain about their mother-in-law all the time, right? It’s a common  subject for jokes all over. Well, guess what? I actually hit the jackpot with mine and so did my kids. True story…..

My kids call my mother-in-law Oh-Oh. Her grown-up name is Alice. There was a progression from Momar to Oh-Oh somewhere along the line years ago. I honestly can’t remember how it ended up as Oh-Oh, but that is neither here nor there.

I liked my mother-in-law right away, but my feelings towards her deepened soon after Nicole was born. She started to come out to stay with us for the weekends often and when she did, she would basically take over. She’d want to bathe Nicole and feed her, etc. I would pretend I was doing her a favor by letting her do these things when in actuality I was thankful for the break. One weekend she came out and Nicole was sick. This tiny baby had the most horrific cold and I had been sleeping sitting up in the glider so she could breathe better and sleep. Well, Oh-Oh came out on that Friday night, took that baby from me and sat up all night with her so that I could get some sleep. I was so touched and so grateful and I absolutely loved her from that moment on.

Alice spent an incredible amount of time with Nicole. When she came out to see us, it was mostly to just be with Nicole. Her amazing love for this child was truly heart warming, and when Michael and then Dana came along, she didn’t skip a beat. The joy she got from being with her grandchildren was clearly evident. When they say grandparents let their grandkids get away with anything, they had to be talking about Oh-Oh. Once I came home to find her tied to a small chair and blindfolded and Nicole was dancing around her. I was horrified and yelled at Nicole and Oh-Oh just said, “it’s ok, we’re playing.” Another time she had a target hanging around her neck while Michael was shooting nerf stuff at her. I kid you not. Whether playing or coloring with them or just watching them play, she thrived on just BEING with them.

As my kids grew up, Oh-Oh was there for everything. I’m talking field days, birthday parties, class parties, plays, dance recitals, basketball games, lacrosse games, lacrosse tournaments, awards, Honor Society inductions, band concerts, chorus concerts, graduations (from all grades/schools), etc. She came away with us, wherever we went, and spent every single holiday with us. My kids knew that Oh-Oh was always included. Basically we were a family of 6 as far as we were all concerned.

My kids are all older now and yet they still absolutely adore their Oh-Oh. I mean, how could they not? Not all grandmothers are created equal. I happen to have one of the best in the world and so do my kids. That kind of unconditional love is something that a kid never forgets. Believe me. Kids remember the things that matter most, like feeling that you are loved beyond words, always. I will forever be grateful that my kids know that feeling. I will forever be grateful that my kids have their Oh-Oh….

 

 

 

 

I have been a nostalgic mess lately. My last baby looking at colleges has sent me into a sort of tailspin and I sometimes can’t shake the feelings of sadness that creep in when I least expect it. For the past 20-ish years, my life has revolved around these kids. Staying home with them when they were little was an absolute gift. Yes, I’m sure I complained- a lot – about the often repetitive and boring days of feeding, changing, laundry, etc., but  I wouldn’t change a thing. I long for those days now when they were my world and I was theirs. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore the people they are now and I love nothing more than spending time with them, but my world, my days, my life, is so different now. Their lives are their own for the most part. They each have a direction and a plan and I am beyond proud of all 3 of them. I do wonder, though, when they think back to their childhood, what will they remember?……

Will Nicole remember how she would lay on my pregnant stomach every night while I read her Disney stories? Will Michael remember how I fought back the urge to throw up his very first time up at bat in Little League? (He got a hit!!!) Will Dana remember all the play dates at the park with her kindergarten friends and all the lunch dates we had?? I wonder…

I wonder if they realize just how much work goes into being Santa and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. Quite a few times I woke up in the middle of the night horrified that I forgot to put the damn money under the damn pillow. And let’s not forget about the stress of waiting for them to go to sleep so we could set all their gifts up under the tree….. or hide those smelly, oddly colored eggs….. The struggle was REAL. The payoff, of course, was those gorgeous faces all lit up the next morning…worth every ounce of energy expended. Without a doubt….

Will they remember our annual trips to Hershey every Thanksgiving since Dana was 9 months old-and yes, we still go…. The lacrosse tournaments, basketball games, dance recitals, field days, class parties, band concerts, chorus concerts, birthday parties-so many birthday parties….. The time when Nicole asked Michael to ask his grandmother for an American Girl doll because “Oh-Oh” would buy Michael anything he asked for…my very clever Nicole!

What I hope they remember are the hugs and the kisses and the “I love you”s… The crazy laughter at the dinner table all the time…You know, the laughter that becomes contagious until everyone is laughing to the point of tears or stomach pains…The snow days and summers by the pool. Dorney Park, Hershey, Willow Valley, Disney…. The comfort of knowing they have parents and siblings who will always have their backs when things don’t go the way they wanted…

What I want them to know is that while I know I am very far from perfect, nobody on this planet could possibly love them more than I do. I tried so hard from day one to be a good mom. I hope they think I succeeded. I know there were days when I just plain sucked at it,  but I swear I tried. I need them to know how many times I would simply look at them and my heart would physically hurt with the overwhelming love I felt for them. I need them to know how proud they made me every day (not that there weren’t days I may have wanted to strangle them-if we’re being honest).

I hope they don’t only remember the crazy lady who yelled a lot–yes, yes I did. Perhaps if they didn’t have selective hearing at times, I wouldn’t have had to yell?? Who knows.. Dana and her friend Emma sometimes call me scary mommy… I should be offended I think, but I find it kind of funny…I can’t really say it isn’t true sometimes. I’m going to blame it on the fact that I’m just tired…Yeah, that’s it…..

What I need them to know is that no matter how old they get, they will always be my babies. There is nothing…..and I mean NOTHING…. that they could ever do to change the way I feel about them. My love for these 3 beautiful, amazing human beings is seared into my soul. Forever. I will have their backs no matter what. I will be their cheerleader, confidant, safe place….whatever they need. They will never have to doubt my love–it is unconditional and eternal. That, they can count on for sure….

So…do you wonder what your kids will remember when they think about their childhoods?

What do you remember about YOUR childhood?

I wonder…..

Thanks for the read, I truly appreciate it….

Candidly,

Donna

 

 

 

 

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Never did agree with this saying. Words are very powerful. I think we can all agree on that, no? Words, when said in anger, can wound very deeply. Words, when said in anger, can not be taken back. Ever. You can not un-ring a bell. Once the words are said, you can apologize and you might be forgiven, but you should know that those words could very well stay with someone forever. I know this to be true. I also know that often it can change you. Make you feel like less. You bury the words, put them out of your mind and you move on, but they’re still there, waiting to creep back out when you least expect it. Be careful with your words. Always. Make sure the damage they may do to someone is something you can live with.

On the other hand, words, when said in love or kindness, can be just as powerful. “I love you”. Three very powerful words when said together. Hopefully you don’t say them if you don’t mean it. Saying something nice or kind to someone can change their whole day. I love to compliment people, especially people I don’t know, on something they are wearing, their hair, their handbag maybe. Why not? If I like something, why not say it and maybe make someone else smile? They could really need it at that moment. I know when somebody says something nice to me, it definitely makes me smile. I recently had my second performance review at my new job because I’m on probation. My boss said such wonderful things about me. I was a little uncomfortable at first, but boy, did that make me feel great. For someone–like me–whose confidence has taken a blow or two in recent years, those words made a difference.

Words have power. Do your best to be aware of your words BEFORE you say them. Hopefully you can catch yourself before saying something hurtful or maybe, just maybe, you might make someone’s day. Thanks….

Candidly,

Donna

“Fear doesn’t exist anywhere except in the mind”-Dale Carnegie

Lately, maybe within the last year or so, I have noticed that I am afraid of things that I have never been afraid of before. Things I never really thought about in the past. Sometimes it is a little twinge of fear and sometimes it is almost paralyzing.

Driving through an intersection has always made me a little nervous, but now I can’t help but think some idiot is going to run a light and decimate me. In addition to that, I often find myself worrying, while I’m driving, about being in an accident or me actually hitting someone else. Not sure why. It’s strange. I am not a timid driver. Never have been. My extra large vehicle has always made me feel safer on the road, but not so much anymore.

As with most parents, I assume, I am always afraid something is going to happen to one of my kids. This is nothing new for me, however, it seems to have increased exponentially in recent years. I am constantly texting them if I hear sirens close by or see something on Facebook or the news about something happening. I try to be casual like-Hey, where are you right now?-but inside, I’m sometimes freaking out. I knew I should have had them implanted with some gps chip when they were babies. Just kidding….well, kinda….. NOT. To their credit, they usually humor me and respond right away. Always grateful for that.

I think the most debilitating of all right now is my fear of death. At times I seem to dwell on it. I think about what it would do to my kids if something happened to me, God forbid, and how I can’t bear to not be here for them. What if I get sick? What if Bruce does? I am no longer a young mom. I’m not ancient, but still… It’s a real fear. I’m terrified of not being here for my kids. Not being here if they need me. They are not babies any longer but they still need me, right? Sometimes the thought stops me cold and takes my breath away. It passes pretty quickly since I usually have so many other things on my mind as well, but the feeling is always there, gnawing at the back of my mind.

I am pretty sure I can attribute these fears to growing older and all the scary crap I see and hear every day. Getting older actually sucks. I feel very vulnerable in a lot of situations where I used to be confident and almost fearless. It’s a very strange feeling and I don’t like it at all… but I guess there isn’t much I can do about it at this point. It’s either I suck it up and go about my day and my life, or I hide in my house. Clearly the latter is not a viable option… and so I’ll suck it up and move on….and maybe pray a little bit…..

Ok, so this was kind of a downer, no? Sorry, I’ll try to be more upbeat next time. Promise. As always, thanks for reading. Until next time……..

Candidly,

Donna

 

My baby passed me on the road today. I was coming home from work and she was going to work. This has happened a few times now, but today I lost my breath for a second. It hit me like a punch to the gut that my kids are all grown up and don’t really need me in the same way they used to. Dana is my last baby to drive. In my mind and my heart she is still my tiny little girl so I thought I had more time. But I don’t. She’s looking at colleges and planning her future and I’m stunned and just sad. This girl who wouldn’t go to pre-school because she couldn’t leave me without a shopping buddy. This girl who needed me to sit inside the dance studio with her while she danced so she could see me. This girl doesn’t really need me anymore.

Ok, so I know that’s not entirely true, but that’s what it feels like right now. A small part of me is thinking–hey I don’t have to drive her or pick her up anymore. That’s pretty cool. Then I think–hey, I don’t have to drive her or pick her up anymore. Damn. I know this is an exciting time for my kids. Law School, College, driving….. I am so proud and excited for their futures but at the same time, I’m devastated. What is my purpose now? I would give anything to go back in time. I want a do-over. It’s not that I would do things differently necessarily. I just want to do it again, and savor every single second. Time moved way too fast. It snuck up on me and smacked me on the back of the head and left me reeling. I’m not ok with this. At all….

My friends whose kids are still little… relish every second. I mean it. You hear it all the time, but you never really listen. I didn’t. I’m telling you now, with my heart hurting a little more each day, listen to me. You will blink and they will be adults. Then you too will wish for a do-over…

Candidly and a little bit melancholy,

Donna

So it’s been almost 3 months since I started working full time after more than 22 years. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t been sitting on my butt relaxing at home all these years. I worked part time in our school district for the past 9 years while also playing chauffeur, maid, referee, chef….

Ok, if I’m being honest the chef part is kind of a joke…I don’t really cook all that much anymore. Partly because I don’t think I’m good at it and partly because when I do cook, nobody really eats it—which, now that I think about it, could be because of the first reason.. and maybe partly because this one’s going out or that one’s working…. I don’t enjoy cooking anymore. I think I lost my confidence when Mike was diagnosed with Celiac and my whole cooking process had to be changed and adjusted. It was tough back then-he was 4. Even though he is away at college now, I mostly only cook stuff that is gluten free. It’s just not very often anymore.

While we are on this honesty kick, the maid part is kind of a stretch too. My house looks like someone broke in and was looking for something, you know, that ransacked look. Ok, maybe not that bad, but bad none the less. I kind of gave up after dog number 3 when I lost the battle of the dog hair. I’m working on taking my house back. It’s a slow and painful process but I’m determined. Kind of..

The getting out early thing shouldn’t be a problem for me since I have been getting up way too early since Michael was a baby. It just worked for me so I stuck with it. I liked having my laundry all done and folded before 9 am and having the whole day to do whatever else I had to do. The quiet cup of coffee by myself was pretty nice too. I struggle to get out of the house every day now even with my early wake-up. I’m not sure why. I guess I just have my routine set after all these years and it is pretty hard for me to break it. I’m always rushing when it’s time for me to leave. Maybe someday I’ll get the hang of it or figure out how to streamline my morning routine. Maybe someday…..

The thing that probably bothers me the most about working full time is that there are days when my dogs are in their crates for 6-7 hours straight. This is unacceptable to me and yet unavoidable right now. I can’t make eye contact with them when I leave because it breaks my heart. They literally look so sad…. ugh, it kills me.

I have a good amount of down-time at this job, which is why I have time to do this I guess, but it also makes the day feel like it will go on forever. When I’m busy, it’s cool, but when I’m not, it’s brutal. It can be mind numbingly boring, but the extra money is good and the benefits are great. So here I am.

So anyway, I am still adjusting to this whole thing. When I get home I am completely overwhelmed by what I should do but won’t, what I want to do but can’t…. hopefully this will get better soon. I go into every weekend thinking I’ll accomplish so much and then I blink and it’s Sunday night and my damn list of things to do is still full of things that are not done…..I hate that. I just ordered some pretty daily  ” To Do” list pads and a menu planner pad to try to help me get organized and just get my crap together. This should be interesting. I’ll let you know how that goes….

Well, that’s all for now. Stay warm and stay well…

Candidly,

Donna