Snowmageddon 2015

I know I said I loved the snow, and I do.  However, today really put that love to the test.

Today, I knew we needed to go to the store, since there has only been a day between the last 4 blizzards, so stocking up is necessary.  However, I had heard that the windchill was going to make it feel like -25.  I pride myself on being a born and raised New Engander and I didn’t want my little one’s faces to literally freeze off (they are already windblown and eczema covered as it is.)  So, I checked and between 10-1pm it wasn’t supposed to be in the negatives.  I, then, checked that the store where we were headed was indeed open despite it being President’s Day.  It was opening in the next half hour.  Thus, I bundled them all up (with far less grace and love than I could have... but I did it) and we set off.  The cold was enough to make a grown man cry let alone a 2 and 4 year old.  So, by the time we were all “strapped in” things were already pretty emotional in the car.

These days in Massachusetts, there are only shades of white, grey, blue, brown mush.  There are no more lines on the road.  The medians are 15-20 foot walls of snow. Everything looks like a shell of whatever lay beneath before the storms.  But hardly anyone ventured out today so the driving was not too bad.

We reached Costco. (I use the name only to warn you it is closed... I still like and depend upon the store.)

And it was closed (as I already mentioned.)

Yup, no sign, no explanation just closed.  It totally baffled people; some drove by several times just to make sure their eyes did not deceive them, some were just waiting in their cars.  I felt brave enough to get out and look inside.  It looked abandoned, grates fastened shut, no one in sight. I retreated to my car and called the administrative line because I’m nosey and easily annoyed.  A very polite man informed me that it was closed due to snow...hmm...snow.  Mind you, it is not snowing today, and yet the sheer amount of snow still was causing some unseen problems that closed down a whole warehouse without warning.


My 4-year old son overheard the conversation and his response was, “Oh great,
now all the people need food and no one can get any.”  Ok maybe he is a little extreme (like me?) seeing the apocalypse in every closed grocery store.  Anyway not to be deterred we headed over to a smaller although still “Super” store.  I mean “the people” needed food and we were gonna get it!

The shelves and aisles were as expected, pretty empty.  I had to scrounge around for the potatoes I wanted and they were out of the bread we like best- not a huge deal.  Still, the kids became restless, I became dissatisfied and annoyed.  So finally and carefully I reassemble their hats, mittens, and coats. Then, I thoughtlessly push out into the parking lot.

Almost immediately, the cart tipped over.  I could feel it but my 9 month pregnant body just isn’t as agile or strong as usual (despite what my guided relaxation tapes may tell me.)  I was using my entire strength to make sure my son did not get trapped beneath this monstrosity, which was essentially in the middle of the road.  My daughter’s hat had flown off and she was hanging parallel to the pavement slowly slipping from the metal seat in front.  I thought about trying to reach out to grab her but the cart started to slide again.

Then, something great happened.  Strangers came to my rescue.  This was SO not a typical New England response.  I was shocked.  One grabbed my daughter, another pulled my son out of harms way and someone else helped me right the cart.  None of us spoke the same language, which on one hand I regretted because I wanted to thank them for saving me, but on the other hand was grateful for because I was afraid they would point out what a thoughtless move I had made.  However, their faces were so kind- windblown and frozen- but kind.

And so, now that we are all warm and recovered, I still love snow.  Maybe even a little more than before because it forces us to work together, to rely on each other.

On mourning the confidence of youth. By Elsbeth Cather Currier

It is very fitting that this piece will appear on KD’s blog.  We grew up together and she someone who I feel so fortunate to be able call one of my oldest and best childhood friends.

Friends since 1990...so many memories!

On mourning the confidence of youth.

Anyone close to me recently knows that turning thirty last year was a serious struggle.  It just came up so quickly.  Obviously aging is unavoidable but these milestone birthdays hit you hard with the reality that it is actually happening to you.  For some reason, I just thought it wouldn’t actually happen.  A large portion of this is due to the fact that I am not at all where I expected to be in life at this age so turning thirty literally didn’t make sense.  When you’re young and naïve, you assume by thirty, you will have everything together.  I’m sure most people beyond this age will confirm that this is rarely the case.  However most people for whom this milestone age is still far off, I’m sure they have the same beliefs I did.  Another thing that didn’t help the situation is that I spend a good amount of time each week with teenagers.  I am so blessed to have them in my life and can’t imagine what my life would without them.  However, when you talk to a student whose birthday is close to yours and ask, “How old are you turning?” And her response is, “15…so half of you.” It will make you feel like the most ancient human being to walk the planet.  

My first time volunteering with the Element high school youth group at Discovery Church was daunting to say the least.  I didn’t imagine I would care so much about what a group of teenagers who I had never even met thought of me.  Since it had been quite some time since I could call myself a teenager, I had taken recent portrayals of teens in the media as reality and was terrified that they would think I was so old and so not cool.  It didn’t take long for me to remember what being a teenager was like and that they were far more concerned with their peers and the daily drama that comes along with being a teenager than with whether I was “cool” or not.  I had forgotten the beautiful awkwardness of youth and was quickly reminded of that after a short time working with them.  As I got to know them better, I would see parts of my younger self in them which made helped connect us but at the same time it made me sad that those qualities had been lost over the years.  

My kids are honestly the most incredible people I have ever met.  They do often remind me of myself at their age but I never did and will never be able to hold a candle to them.  They have so much passion for everything in their lives.  I forgot about the fierce loyalty of teenage friendship.  I forgot about the excitement of realizing the person you want to be and having no fear about moving toward becoming that person.  I forgot what it is like to have your whole life in front of you. I forgot about big dreams.  But what I forgot about most and what seems most lost to me is the bravery of youth.  I am amazed daily by these teenagers; the lives they lead and the desires of their hearts.  When you are just beginning on life’s journey, you really have nothing to lose.  My kids dream the big dreams.  They haven’t felt the sting of one’s dreams being dashed.  They haven’t felt the pain of it “being too late” for anything.  They don’t compare their station in life with their peers. I wished that I had been like them.

Then one day, I realized it.  I had been just like them.  All theses quality’s that I admire so much in them, I had had.  I had big dreams. I had no fear.  I had confidence.  These students are far more confident in themselves and what they can bring to the world than I am now at 30 years old.  I never expected to look back on my teen years and wish for the confidence I had then.  We’re told at that age that things will be better when you’re older.  We’re told that people will be nicer.  We’re told that you’ll have control of your own life and destiny.  In most cases, these are complete lies.  And realizing that makes for a difficult jolt into adult reality.  

Upon the discovery of the loss of my youth and everything that went with it, I honestly went through a time of true mourning.  As much as I wish to go back to the person I was at 17, I know that I cannot.  I look back fondly at that girl but I have to let her go.  This is very difficult and honestly sad.  However, I know that finding the pieces of that girl that are still alive in me and pairing them with the experiences of my twenties  will yield a person capable of being brave again,  a person capable of hoping again,  a person capable of dreaming big again.  I feel so fortunate to call my kids, my friends.  They have inspired me to revive the parts of my younger self that gave me confidence and hope.    So to everyone, in this same stage, do not despair.   Take the time to mourn the loss of the confidence of youth but then search inside yourself and find the pieces that have survived the difficult realities of young adulthood.  Revive them and be brave again!  Lastly, I highly recommend spending time with teenagers in your community.  They will teach you so much more then could ever even try to teach them while also keeping you young.  I don’t even have words to express the impact my kids have had on my life and how much I love them.

Misconceptions about Adventure

            Today my son asked me, “Mom, what’s an adventure?”  His hazel (or diesel as he calls them) eyes looked up at me from his seat on the Baby Bjorn toddler toilet.  His star studded potty chart was taped behind him on the wall.  We often have deep talks here in the bathroom.  

“Well, adventure is...” I stopped and found myself at a loss for words.  “It’s something you do that is exciting and maybe a little bit scary,” I ventured.  “But mostly exciting,” I went on. 

“Wow, I really have no idea,” I thought to myself.  I realized that I had begun to think of “adventure” as just a optimist's buzzword for a really difficult situation that you have to slough through in this life.  I was surprised by my own cynicism.  Where did that little kid go who dreamed only of adventure? 

I think I began to create this stereotype of the adventurer that I just couldn’t live up to. I had these misconceptions that I made into rules and now as I sit and think of the adventures I’ve known personally and through books, blogs and friends I find my preconceptions to be lies.

     

So here they are, 5 misconceptions I subconsciously held about adventurers:

1. Adventurers can’t watch TV.  Somewhere along the line I noticed that a sedentary life is not usually conducive to adventuring and twisted that observation into a law.  If you choose to watch TV you are sacrificing any opportunities to have adventures and all your creative juices will be sucked from your brain.  
2. Adventurers can’t have kids.  I used to have nightmares of trying to get my sisters out of some movie theater or abandoned warehouse and I knew I could get away if I just didn’t have to worry about them too.  So, I began to think that if you are responsible for someone it is to risky to go on adventures.  
3. Adventurers don’t have normal jobs.  Yes, Indiana Jones was a professor but in general I had this feeling that adventurers just spent their time traipsing from one  adventure to the next.  
4. Adventurers don’t get to experience the thrill of excitement and joy without the depths of despair ever bringing them down. It just seems like if and when you are depressed, anxious or fearful adventures are completely out of the question.
5. Adventurers don’t need sleep, in fact they thrive on 4-5 hours a night.  

So once I had effectively eliminated myself from this category, slowly coming to grips with the fact that I am not exactly “at my best” when I have only gotten a few hours of sleep, and that I do in fact like watching TV...not to mention that I have kids and a “normal” job...oh, and of course, I have nagging doubts and despair.  Having discovered all this about myself I cut ties with my desire for adventure. 

But the list above is one of untruths.  Adventurers can be anyone...me, you, the least expected person in the world.  So as the travelocity gnome would say, “Go and Smell the Roses.”