Day in the life...
Up at 4:30am, not to jog but to work and be mom. After working for an hour, I see my son off to the Chicago-bound train, drive my daughter to her, soon-to-be, old school...an hour and a half drive round trip. I arrive back home at 7:55am. I had e-mailed my employer I would be back in my office at 9am to finish out a 9 hour day. So, as I pull behind my new home, I am just itching to get going...away from it all!

Already dressed in my jogging attire, I slip my house key and driver's license in one pocket and my I-Phone with earbuds in the other. "Pandora Radio, take me away!" I have been too busy to build my own I-Tunes library...and perhaps too cheap. So, Pandora fits the bill just perfectly. For this occassion I pick the Pop & Hip Hop Power Workout Station. Supercharged!

I live two blocks from Lake Michigan on a bluff and make my way towards UWM along the top of the bluff, past lake-facing Mansions, a lighthouse, other morning joggers and dog walkers...always with the morning lake shimmering on the other side.

Yes, a waterfall. Funny what one discovers on foot. My son and his girlfriend didn't believe me, but the proof's in the picture! This sure beats the treadmill. And my excuse to take breaks to take pictures sure helps.

What I didn't know was that the one day of warm weather we just had and all the rain were the perfect mixture for a mosquito fire storm. They were not bad by the waterfall, surprisingly, but I rounded back by the lake front and beach and found myself in clouds of freshly-hatched, very thirsty blood suckers. Way to crush a great morning run. Even though it was cloudy, I put on the shades and zipped up the jacket and ran much faster than normal.

I didn't stop to smell the flowers but was happy to see them finally blooming. I caught sight of a deer in this thicket just 20 yeards from the lake, but as I pulled out my I-Phone to take a picture of Bambi, I got a mouthfull of my mosquito friends. Bleachhh! Phhhttttt. And missed the shot. But had to smile...well, after I had cleaned out my mouth. Nature has a way of equalizing life's worries. So, I proceeded to jog back home.

Now, I did not take a picture of them, but there was a contigent of police officers setting up a command unit by the beach, apparently in anticipation of the warm weather beach crowd in the coming weeks. And there is nothing like a man in a uniform to make a middle-aged woman improved her pace and posture. I'm more of a fireman kind of gal, but that's okay. I got all kinds of sights this morning that kept me running! And all helped me get through the next nine hours.

"What does she mean?" you may ask. "She's not in jail."  This is true, I am not in the County Jail or imprisoned in the conventional sense of the word, but I am, nonetheless incarcerated. 6 year ago a very crabby old judge decided that my Ex's right to see his kids every other weekend trumped our freedom. When my son turned 18 four years ago, he won his freedom and got to move to Chicago. My daughter has four years to go; therefore, so do I.

Certainly my friends here do not understand my predicament. Afterall, many of them have grown up here, their families have grown up here, all their friends from grade school until now are here, and none of them have any intention to leave this state. However, I come from a long line of immigrants...it's in the family blood. Not only that, when you are told you cannot leave a place, the lack of freedom to control your own destiny feels squashed. When I learned I had to stay here until my daughter was 18, my heart sank and, yes, I cried...Again!

Certainly I have better digs than this. In fact, this last move made me realize there is a place in this town I can actually see enjoying myself for the next 4 years. Had I only made this move sooner! But if there is one thing I have learned from the Universe and the Powers that Be...be flexible, listen, and wait for the signs. This, of course, goes against every fiber of my controlling self. So, for now, I have decided to sit back and try to enjoy incarceration...as a friend once recommended. Naturally, she lives on the West Coast in warmth all year round, but I will overlook that...until November when the snow flies.


 All I can say is learn from one of my biggest mistakes...do not move away from your own family to be near your husband's family, especially if you have kids and it's out-of-state.  Talk about being stuck. Well, tomorrow I plan on my first morning jog and plan on showing the positive side of this incarceration.

A happy birthday "shout-out", as they say on the radio, to my Aunt Laura. Truly the best aunt a gal could have. No, really, this woman actually moved to Milwaukee to be close to me and the kids.  This was before the demise of my marriage. And, god bless her, she braved the frozen tundra in Wisconsin for as long as she could. I am convinced my family, including myself, are people not born to live in such relentless cold. So, sadly, my aunt moved back to California and then back to Oregon...all much warmer destinations. But she didn't move before I realized what a special heart she has. I was so happy to have that short time to actually get to know her as a person, rather than just an "Aunt". So today, Aunt Laura, here's to you! Thank you for being there for me and for being such an amazing person. We all love you!

Today I made it back to the gym to begin my second phase of weight loss...another 30 pounds is the goal. Fortunately, by being a winner in the Survivor contest, I got "club cash". Yes, they get you coming and going, but I was happy to take the fake dollars and sign up for the Biggest Loser program. I had tried this program a year ago and was doing well on it until I hit some more health issues.

A few months before the program started, I had my last surgery and had finished radiation. But during the program I developed a horrible rash on my chest where I had the radiation. It was not a rash that any of the doctors had seen before. The rash proceeded to spread over the top half of my body and was excruciatingly painful and itchy. I was put through an array of blood tests and biopsies, tests for Lupus, and all kinds of skin and allergy tests. But I kept up my exercising, albeit frustraited. My dermatologist and regular doctor agreed I should go on a battery of treatments of prednisone. Nose dive!!!!

I understand this medication can be helpful, but it sure would have been nice if the docs had said, "Oh, and by the way, this medication may make you act psycho, lose half your hair, develop extreme fat deposits around your neck and mid-section, and do absolutely nothing for the rash." Nope.

I had been fortunate enough in my cancer treatments to avoid chemo, which meant I was also able to keep my hair. Now suddenly clumps of my long hair were falling out in the shower. Then I noticed a strange swelling around the back of my neck and my stomach. In a 2 week period at the end of my treatments, I gained 20 pounds in 2 weeks. Then my daughter looked at me one day and asked in a tentative voice, "Why are you suddenly so mean and angry all the time?" And she was right...everything was pissing me off. Of course, after losing your boobs and then suddenly losing your hair and gaining a hump akin to Quasimoto, being pissed off would be a natural reaction I would think. But clearly I had to do something especially since the rash was still very much with me.

I ended up pulling out of the Biggest Loser program..."Only person to gain 20 pounds on the program" was not the caption I wanted to see under my "After" picture. Here she is fat, and twelve weeks later, here she is fatter, bald, scowling, and a humpback.  Ugghhh.

So, I visited the array of doctors again. I asked one of the nurses about all these side effects I was experiencing. Her reaction could be considered either comical or criminal. She shrugged her shoulders looking down and just muttered, "Oh sure, that happens all the time. Didn't anyone mention those things to you?" Without waiting for my heated reply, she vacated the room, leaving me fuming. The docs all scratched their heads about the continuation of the rash. Finally, one of my doctors came to the conclusion that it must be "radiation recall" and will just have to work itself out of my body. Really, Doc? That's what you're going with? Radiation Recall? Sounds like a Schwarzenegger movie...not a real diagnosis.

So, last summer I became a recluse, shying away from people because I felt that cancer and all it brought with it was finally getting the best of me. The rash is almost gone, but it also made me postpone my final surgeries. My hair has come back, and I can happily report that the hump is no longer. Oh, and my kids would agree that the Roid Rage has subsided.

I would just caution anyone taking any kind of steroids...Ask lots of questions and listen to your body. If it doesn't like the Roids, it will most definitely tell you!

"Write about what you know," they say. So, as a sworn user of the AeroGarden in a cold part of the US, it works and is wonderful. If you can grow this stuff outside where you live...great. But I have to say that growing lettuce inside during the winter months in the Midwest is wonderful. The lettuce is so tasty and sweet, and the crops are bountiful. Basil grows like a weed in this envornment too. I even find myself giving the basil away to my ex. That says a lot!

In the year 2000, I sat in my small office with my 4 month old baby girl on my lap, struggling to grow my business. It was in that year I started, I suspect, a life long friendship with a man who has come to be known as Mr. New York. At that time he was a young man in Long Island, NY soliciting web-based sales positioning on the internet. It was a time when the internet was just getting discovered as a "tool" for business. It certainly wasn't tried-n-true like my newspaper advertising had been. It was scary and a monetary investment I had to weigh heavily. The smooth talking man at the other end of the line was not going to trick me...I got calls like this all day long, every day. So, we talked about business goals. I questioned him extensively about the company he worked for, while looking everything up on the computer as we spoke. I had a business partner who then looked at all the data as well. Looked interesting, but will this internet thing really reach enough people?

Well, suffice it to say, the internet thing did reach enough people. This salesman became an integral part of my daily life. I monitored every penny that was spent and what kind of return we saw from this investment from every zip code in which we invested. As time passed, we grew to know each other on a personal level. He knew how to reach me if a zip code of "desire" came available. which led to calling me wherever, whenever. I remember driving my son down to Chicago for a voice-over commercial, and my cell phone rang. A "prime" zip code had just come available. I told my New York friend that I had to pass as much as I really wanted to deal with it right then and there. The conversation that day then transitioned into terms of friendship. This man suddenly became acutely aware I wasn't SO driven that I would change my mind, so instead we started talking about life. I got to know his history about his parents, siblings, his past. We laughed about kids and relationships and family. I then hung up.

My 9 year old son asked from the back seat, "Who was that, Mom?" Although I knew his name, I answered, "Oh, that was just Mr. New York." Don't know where that came from, but it stuck.

This man remained a fundamental part of my advertising, but we never met. For years, he helped me grow my business. And, yes, I loved our conversations on the phone. He was funny and a delight to talk to. And when my husband left in 2005, the company dissolved, and so seemed my friendship with Mr. New York. I figured he was collateral damage of the whole divorce. But Mr. New York did call....a different tone in his voice.

Mr. New York started treating me like a woman, not just a pay check or a sales score. Call me Manti Te'o, but it was nice. This man did ask how I was doing with my husband leaving. He asked after the kids. We asked about each other. It was like we were two lost souls that just knew we needed to know someone cared, and we did. He often said, "Hey, beautiful." And it certainly wasn't from seeing me...still hadn't met. But can you imagine what those two words meant to a woman who was devastated by betrayal, being told how awful she was for so long? It was heaven.

Yes, my kids knew when mom was talking to Mr. New York. But how do I tell them that I had developed this strong bond with a person I had never met. Then, I remembered having a pen-pal (no not the Pen-Pal account). It was virtually the same thing, so I explained it that way. We have never met.

Today, Mr. New York remains in New York with a beautiful wife and daughter. I remain in Wisconsin. We stay in touch....and perhaps someday we will all meet.

Mr. New York, thank you!

Just when you think you have a groove going and life kind of settles, things change....Again. This especially happens as kids grow up and move on in their own lives. Today marks a day my daughter takes her first plane ride without her mom, and my son finished his short film for his final project at College.

My son's short film, Pluto and the Vessel, is showing at the Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago on May 10th after 18 months of arduous work. He spent hours upon hours in
his studio, taking only brief naps in a sleeping bag on the floor of his studio, as he meticulously created his own short film, developing the story boards, the puppets, the set, the sound, and doing the tedious task of filming and editing....all by Harrison Browning. What a beautiful moment. I am truly proud of his hard work, tenacity, and talent. I remember when he drew an incredibly accurate rendition of Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam when he was just seven years old. He cleverly inserted a loin cloth over Adam later so he could share the drawing at school. Of course, that was the same year he drew an 8 foot penis on a friend's driveway with chalk and wrote "D-I-C-K" next to it.  What a kid! Oops...I mean young man. This is surely just the beginning for a young man with incredible creativity and artistic talent.

And then there's the "younger" one, who took off to DC tonight with her 8th grade class. Yes, I teared up, and she had to tell me, "Mom, you will be okay." I saw my life of motherhood flash before my eyes, dropping them both off at Kindergarden for the first time.  All those years of "firsts", years of them slowly detaching from me...and that's where the pain lies. As a parent, my job is to help them grow up, become independent, and not need me anymore. Creating my own obsolescence is a very difficult pill to swallow. I just want to hug them both and not let go.  And then I think of the over-flowing toilet. Hhhhmmm.

But the truth is I do feel a sense of pride seeing both of them move on happily and successfully. The quandry is that I have successfully put myself out of work in a job I have done 24/7 for almost 22 years. Now, I have to figure out what I want to do when I grow up. Oh, I have a full time job, but I have certainly put my life on hold in order to be the best single parent I could. I know, I know, people say you gotta do both at the same time. But I gotta tell you, between divorce, cancer, and kids...yeah, that was enough life to keep me occupied for many years. Now, maybe dating? Maybe continuing writing more ambitiously. Maybe going to that book signing down the block on my own. Wow, as my kids spread their wings...so do I.  Just hope we all come home to roost once in awhile to catch up.

Well, just about everything in my house runneth over lately.  I missed a couple of days writing because things got a little chaotic around the ole homestead. Oh, the kitchen pipe is fixed, but...

Imagine working 13 days straight, trying to navigate the whole parenting thing, groceries, bills, cooking, cleaning, blah, blah, blah. And then get to sit down on the couch with your feet up one evening in your comfy robe in front of a funny, simple movie...fire blazing in the fire place. Ahhhh, finally some time to relax.

"MMMMMOOOOMMMM, Heeellllpppppp! Mom, come here! Mom....Mommmmm...MOOMMMMMMMMM!"

I jumped up and ran down the hallway towards my son's voice. As I approached the bathroom where he stood hollering, I could see the stream of water quickly gushing down the hallway into the kitchen and towards the dining room at record pace. I threw off my robe, ran into the bathroom and tried to plunge the running toilet. Luckily, nothing was floating in the water. Thank God! I quickly realized that plunging wasn't working, so I turned the water off at the base of the toilet.

After the kids, including my son's girl friend, threw towels on the floor to soak up the water, we all made the long trek to the basement with loads of wet towels to be washed. Upon returning upstairs, before we set to mopping the floor and cleaning various items that got caught by the flood, I realized that my son needed to learn something.

Ironically, after blogging about feeling stupid about learning how to use social media, imagine how my son felt when I showed him that next time this happens, just turn off the damn water. It suddenly occurred to me that kids are very educated when it comes to technology, but if the toilet over flows they still call for mom. Something is just not right. As my son retorted, "Well, Mom, this has just never happened before." And he was right, but it made me realize how much I may have missed teaching him in the process. Simple stuff...things he'll need to know in life when he can't call, "MMMMMOOOOOMMMMM!"

Now, as for things running over...I better go check that load of heavy wet towels in the washer. With my luck...

Tomorrow my teenage daughter leaves with her 8th grade class to DC for 4 days.  She is over-the-top excited, and I am over-the-top a mess. I know she will do fine, but having both my kids out of town at the same time makes me kind of crazy. I should be excited about the upcoming respite I suppose, but right now I am just trying to figure out how to keep in touch with both of them...for my own sanity.

My son, back at college in Chicago with his swollen jaw from surgery, will most likely return my multiple texts with one cursory, "I'm fine, Mom. Love you." And then there will be silence for days. As for my daughter? This is uncharted territory. Oh sure, we text when she's away at dad's for a bit, but this is very different. 

Which leads me to the next step in my own social media evolution. The teachers escorting the kids are all young and quite "social media" savvy...meaning, I have a lot of catching up to do. They announced at a recent meeting for the trip that we parents could easily follow the kids on the trip through Twitter. Easily? Now wait just a gosh darn minute, I just got used to Facebook...sort of. I mean I can sign on to Facebook...sort of. But I must try...reluctantly.

After an hour of trying to figure out the Twitter system, resetting my password, and fumbling to figure out how to "follow" the school trip Twitter account, I am now a proud member of the Twitter family. Nothing like a little social media to make you feel completely stupid. Now I have to download the mobile app to my phone and try to sign on there...Ahhh hell, whatever happened to picking up the phone at the end of the day and just saying, "I'm fine, Mom. Love you."

To both my kids, "Have a great week. Love you! Oh, and I'm fine!"

My poor son started a new round of othodontics today, being subjected to a surgery to graft bone from the back of his jaw to the front. Why? It started when he was born missing several of his adult teeth. Of course, we did not know this until he lost some of his baby teeth and nothing came in afterwards.

So after seven years of braces, retainers, teeth being moved and pulled, he is now in the final phase...three rounds of grafting bone. After the two hour procedure, my twenty-one year old has landed on the couch with one side of his face slowly increasing in size, like he is storing up nuts in his cheek for the winter. The timing couldn't be worse. He is in the throws of his final three weeks of his Senior year in college. Let's just hope the pain and swelling go away before graduation day. Hey, at least I didn't sneak a picture of him and post it!