March 2013 – Page 2

A Note From My 16-Year-Old Self

I’ve read some incredibly inspiring “letters” from individuals to their teenage selves, in the vein of “if I’d known then what I know now…” When I look back, however, I tend to find more inspiration in the person I once was. So, I thought I’d do a little method acting (think of that) and try to place myself into the brain of my 16-year-old self and see what advice I might have to give…to myself.

So, you reached 30, huh? That blows my mind on so many levels. Here are some things I hope you’ve remembered along the way…or, if you haven’t, START remembering:

– Don’t stop being weird. There was a time that we were hurt at the prospect of being considered strange. I still remember telling Mom in the car on the way to the farm that kids at school (we were in about 5th grade, remember) were calling me weird. It wasn’t in a bullying way, but I found that it bothered me and even hurt. I liked different music. I read different things. I watched irreverent TV shows and old black-and-white movies. I was sensitive but outspoken. I wasn’t quite a tomboy, but was far from a girlie girl. Today, as my 1998 self, I’m terribly proud of the fact that I’m still that person. As far as the tiny school bubble in which I live, I exist amicably with most everyone, and have been lucky enough to find acceptance. I’m hoping that you’re able to maintain who we are without apologies.

– Stay friends with the people you truly trust. You know, the ones who don’t talk behind your back and make you nothing but paranoid. The ones who accept your weirdness. And try to remember to be a good friend back at ’em, ‘cuz they may stick with you for the long haul. Oh, and anyone who’s put up with your Monkees obsession…yeah, they deserve a place in some Hall of Fame some place.

– Say what you feel, when it matters. I know we have a tendency to be loud-mouthed, opinionated and incredibly outspoken when we’re around people we’re comfortable with, but at the same time incredibly insecure and shy when we’re intimidated by larger-than-life personalities (like a certain teacher we all know) or unknown experiences. It’s okay to be shy, but don’t let that stand in your way of doing things. And DON’T let ass&%#@$ pile-drive you. ‘Cuz there’s always gonna be ass&%#@$.

– Try new things. I even have a hard time with this one today, myself. Remember when we were sick for “Oliver!” auditions and you didn’t take the chance to try out? We were lucky when Jen moved and you got her part, but it didn’t feel very earned, did it? Nope. Just go forth and have frickin’ fun. We’ll only live once, and as cliche as that sounds, it’s damn true.

– Don’t live life for anyone but yourself…er, us. Recently, I told Mom (remember, after church school on our way home?) that I thought I’d like to get better at guitar and maybe try seeing if I could make a go at a folksinger type of life (ie not necessarily go to college). She immediately put us down. Didn’t feel so good, did it? While it’s important to make her happy, at what point will you realize that you have to make YOU happy, too? I hope you’ve been successful with this one. It’s a biggie.

– In other words, do what you love. Whatever that may be.

– Marry a nice guy who you can laugh with, and who you don’t mind taking care of when they get old/sick. And if you can’t find someone you can laugh with, or who can accept you and your weirdness, just keep looking. ‘Cuz the dating pool here in Mohawk is not the end of the line, thank God.

– Keep busy! Play at least one sport, and try to do something creative, like, always. I personally think you should stick with tennis, especially since Katharine Hepburn is STILL doing it in her frickin’ 90s! Plus, you can be competitive without needing a full-blown team. Oh, I suppose I should also clarify — keep busy DOING FUN THINGS. Things that you enjoy doing. Don’t keep playing oboe if it’s not fun for you…and DON’T feel guilty if you stop. But, if you ever miss something, try it again and see if it’s still in your blood. It’s okay to do that, especially since these days it’s more of a chore to do homework and practice oboe, sax, piano and voice for SoloFest, on top of tennis and marching band. It might be more fun when it’s less pressure.

– Long live the Monkees. And Dave Foley & KITH. And Jimmy Stewart. And Bruce Ward. And NEVER, EVER wear tapered-leg jeans again, if you can help it, even if they come back “in.” Always keep a pair of flared legs on hand. No more perms. Oh, and no matter how much we love Peter Tork…don’t do the bowl cut ever again. That is all.

– Be a mom. Don’t ever let anyone make you question whether you want kids; you do. Not only have you always wanted them (hell, remember cracking the JC Penney catalog to the nursery section every time we got a new one, instead of the toys? Gave Mom a heart attack, alright! Heh heh.), but you were born to be a mom. Even if you don’t have everything else figured out, HAVE KIDS. For me. And be a cool mom. Strict, but cool.

Lessons learned. And apparently I’ve always had a thing for bullet points.

Give It a Go Gardening

A Note From My 16-Year-Old Self - image on https://megactsout.com

I’ve grown gardens for three years now. Oops. Let me rephrase that: For the past three years, I have grown small amounts of veggies and herbs with varying levels of success.

The first year was probably the most successful as far as my ability to maintain the thing goes. In retrospect, we only had one raised bed that year to contend with and while we had some issues with tipsy tomatoes (overgrown!), for the most part we had a great “harvest” and thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of fresh herbs in every single meal, awesome salads, and generally super-powered recipes. ‘Twas awesome.

Our second year, we upped the ante with a second bed. It was another successful year, but not nearly as much as the first. I’m not sure if I didn’t tend them enough or whether the weather was less of a friend that year, but we had some misses. Clearly I must’ve gotten lazier, too, since I didn’t take any pictures (or, at least, I can’t find any…I KNOW we took some for the blog, but they’re MIA).

In 2012, however…well, let’s just say it was a miracle that we got anything planted and tended at all in the first place. Vegetation was the last thing on our minds with the new baby. So, while we used both beds and had a row of potted herbs and tomatoes, we didn’t pay daily attention to them. Sure, we had a handful of improved meals and stuff, but by no means did we supplement our veggie intake with homegrown wonderfulness.

This year, of course, I’m hoping to do better. I don’t want to make grandiose statements ‘cuz I know I’m not good at sticking to them. Better to be honest with oneself (and try not to feel guilty about it) than make wondrously overreaching statements publicly only to bite the dust. So, the spring/summer/fall of 2013 will be what I call the season of giving it a go, hence “Give It a Go Gardening.”

What am I gonna give a go? Well, my ultimate goal is to just not suck out like I did last year. Sure, I’m going to have a one-year-old in tow, but I see that as a smaller challenge than 2012. He was just so dang fragile (and needy). This is why a goal or two of mine may not seem garden-related, but, boy, are they!

“Give It a Go Gardening” – 2013:
– Find a carrier for Hadley to “accompany” me on my daily watering trips. That kid’s humongous. Not fat, mind you…but tall and pudgy (juuuuust right!) and, well, BIG for his age. We tried one hand-me-down carrier in the beginning that let me help set up the garage sale a bit, but he’s since become less of a sleeper and I can’t seem to get my Moby wrap to work for us. So, instead of giving up, I say “Let’s try a different approach!” I KNOW there are carriers out there meant for larger kids, and I’m gonna find me one of ’em!

– Grow whatchya know. This is a big ol’ learning curve situation, but why the hell grow something if you’re not going to eat it and enjoy cooking with it?!?! I’ve never had kale (as far as I know, LOL) in my life, so that’s something I’d rather buy from a farmers’ market or a sale at the grocery store to try; if we like it, then maybe next year. Do we use tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, peas, and a plethora of herbs? We sure do.

– Taaaake a loook, it’s iiiin a boook (totally just showed my students a Reading Rainbow…why should I have all the fun having that song stuck in my head? Share the love, people). I’m doing lots of reading while the ground’s still cccccccold. Hoping to learn what the best practices are for my neck of the woods, and whether it’s even worth it to grow certain items. I’m also wondering how to start seeds (see below) and if it’s worth it to find cheap-o grow lights (to start them in the basement…keeping the cats AWAY).

– Is my mother right??? I’m a tad nervous because I’d love to start the whole garden from seed (a. more control over what gets planted when; b. cheaper; c. easier to find organic options), but my mom insists that she hasn’t had any luck with this and that she only gets “spindly” plants. I *usually* take my mom’s word as gospel, but I’d love to know for myself if it’s true.

– Purdy flowers or hardworking num-nums? We have lots of planting areas (beds?), particularly foundation areas that have normally existed as aesthetic spots. Last year, we were in the land of begonias. This year, I’m wondering whether to use these spaces for growing herbs or veggies, keep them purdy, or mix it up (some of each). We also have space towards the back of our property next to the garage that I’m considering — there’s a trellis hanging out that is begging for use, so maybe it’ll be the home of some peas or green beans or sumpin’ sumpin’. Also considering planting some zukes and potaters in a couple of ugly piles down there, but I’m a tad concerned about our friendly neighborhood cats leaving some piles of their own…if ya catch my drift…which I think ya do.

– FINALLY getting some proper gutters!!! Like with the Hadman’s carrier, you may be asking, “Meg. Dude. Why is this even relevant?” Dude, it totally is. Any time it rains, we get tiny (and sometimes not-so-tiny) trenches in the dirt/mulch/plants below our roof lines. I’ve been bugging the “men” in my life for a loooooong time that we are in dire need of a gutter system (it’ll also help with our cellar moisture issues; we don’t flood, but it’s wetter than I’d like). It sounds like our begging will finally be answered this year, even if we have to hire the dang project out. This will mean I can actually plant veggies (or flowers, whatev) without having to worry about them getting drenched or damaged under the eaves. Now, if only we had enough cashola to replace the driveway….

– Hand-in-hand with the last two notes, we’re getting some growth OFF the ground! I’ve got a strawberry plant that has multiplied, but wouldn’tchya know? We haven’t eaten one. Single. Berry. Why’s that? Chipmunk thief. (I assume it’s a chipmunk. Tiny bite marks. Could be a bunny.) So, I’ll be doing either a hanging plant or building some sort of over-the-edge-of-the-deck type of planting system for the strawberries and possibly some other plant(s). I’m also thinking of putting our herbs on a tray rather than on the floor of our deck since a) it’ll be easier to water them and b) when I look out our back door, I’ll SEE them and be more APT to water them!

– Take chances…but not too many. Sure, I’ll “grow whatchya know” (only stuff we’ll EAT), but not EVERYTHING we eat. For example, asparagus is a perennial that takes a few years to truly get goin’. God only knows how long we’ll be at our current place, and the odds that we’ll get to enjoy our labors are slim. Potatoes, however, will be a new venture for me; one that sounds a tad easier to undertake.

– Compostin’. Our original composting attempts were successful, for the most part, but with the harsh winters we experience, it was a bear to maintain, so it’s fallen into “disrepair”, as it were. I’d like to come up with a more user-friendly system and start addin’ some browns and greens again. We were lucky enough to receive a big ol’ composting bin type thingamabobber from some friends for F-R-E-E(!), but I’m not sure it’s the right size for our yard currently. As it is, I’m sure the neighbors think our Rubbermaid container full o’ holes (looks kinda Bonnie and Clyde out there) in the backyard is nutsola. Either way, once this stuff dries out a bit in the spring, we can hopefully use up the last of it, ditch the current container (or use it for something else…?) and figure this dilemma out.

So, that’s it for now…ha. That’s it. As if it’s not enough, lady?! Sheesh. It’s nice to get my thoughts out on paper…er…out for the world to see to organize my thinking a bit. I’ll probably draw a zillion garden plans before I land on what *might* work for us, but I’ll try to share what I come up with.

If anyone has a gardening background (be it for food or aesthetics), PLEASE let me glean some knowledge from your experience!!! Feel free to share your thoughts in the “comment” section and I shall kiss your feet and bow to you…if you’re into that sort of thing.

Spring Fever

I’m usually the type of person who’s pretty able to appreciate the ‘now.’ I don’t hate any seasons by any means, and simply enjoy the feeling when one transitions to the next. It’s refreshing and rejuvenating, isn’t it?

This year, I still feel this way, but I find myself excitedly looking forward to things. Much of it…okay, probably all of it has to do with the baby. You’d think I’d be grabbing at every square inch of time (yes, I know time isn’t measured in inches) with the little man before he turns into, well, a real man. At 7 1/2 months, he’s certainly growing up fast, and I’m not necessarily excited about it. He’s teething up a storm (none have appeared yet, but he’s fussing enough for a mouthful), days or weeks away from crawling, and LOVES his walker. You can see the longing in his eyes to be able to get closer to those darn cats.

So…close…ahhh, gotchya. Wait. Wait! Come back!!

I’ve been warned enough that once he’s mobile, life’s never the same.

Duh, we know. We knew that life would never be the same when we found out that we were having our awesome little guy in the first place. We knew about this whole sleep-deprived, slightly-controlled lifestyle that we’d be undertaking. Or, so we THOUGHT we knew.

I’m thinking this is one reason I’m kind of cool with him getting a tad older. We’ve had some rough patches. *gasp* Wait. Did I just admit for the whole world to see that life isn’t perfect? No sunshine? No rose petals? No perfect baby, no perfect life??

Yup! But don’t be mistaken, please. I LOVE OUR LIFE. Well, most of it. As far as our home life goes, we’re lucky enough to be stronger today than we were, hell, when we got married. Parenthood has made us fall even more in love with each other. We’re supportive (most of the time; sleep deprivation has its residual effects), and our priorities are completely one and the same. Our cats are hysterical bits of daily entertainment that we feel downright blessed to have in our lives. Our families, as annoying or over-reactionary or misunderstanding as they may sometimes be, are incredible and truly have our backs.

We wouldn’t ask for any other baby. Hadley is in-stinkin’-credible. Not that looks matter, but the kid’s got ’em. We even considered getting him into baby modeling, if we were in a more conducive environment to do so. (I kid you not!) Somehow, he’s masculine but uber-sensitive at the same time. He’s pensive. He’s expressive. His giggle is beyond adorable, and infectious…then when he hears us laugh, he does this laugh that resembles a cough (like he’s forcing a laugh) because he’s mimicking what he thinks a “grown-up laugh” is. When he sees me after a short absence, his face beams in a way that doesn’t beam for anyone else. I’m here, honey. I’ll try to never leave you in a forever way.

Yeah, he’s a mama’s boy, through and through. Tough as nails in some ways and incredibly needy in the other. Therein lies some of the issue. We’ve gotten through most of his early gassy issues (in which he would SCREAM incessantly for quite awhile, which made a huge challenge for his grandma/sitter) but the kid. Won’t. Sleep.

There was a time (many months, actually) that he’d sleep a full night. Lately, we’ve gotten one of those nights in the past month. With a break from school last week, I realized that between BFing all day and night, I was up every three hours (one night he gave me a 4-hour span…halleluiah!) from Friday night to the NEXT Monday morning. But, I wouldn’t mind that so much as I do the fact that he won’t nap for his grandma. No, he DOESN’T WANT to nap. He hates it. He cries. He doesn’t like being put down on his back. He doesn’t want to be left alone. He wakes up almost immediately when you put him down already asleep. It’s rough.

Some days, I think it’s teething. (Partly, possibly.) Other times, I think he’s just so attached (as Dave puts it, the kid’s a spokesbaby for attachment parenting…which we don’t really subscribe to). Some might call him “spoiled.” How does one spoil a 7-month-old?! Well, regardless, it’s a phase and I remind myself that this, too, shall pass. I’m thinking that once he starts crawling and expending energy that he may welcome naps and nighttime a tad more.

Which is where my spring fever comes in. I’m allowing myself not to wish, but to daydream about all the wonderful things coming down the line for our family with the coming of a new season.

March is one hell of a long month, isn’t it? February’s so obnoxiously cute in its shortness; March is obnoxious in its sheer length. I shouldn’t complain since educators get mega time off, but it’s rough to go from mid-winter break through the month — we’ve got Good Friday off, then the second week in April is (finally) SPRIIIING BREEEEAAAAK.

I’m itching to get this kid in his stroller to hit the pavement. Talking about the smells in the air, the singing birds, the squirmy wormies, the hints of green popping up all around.

To get back to farmers’ markets with their young asparagus, fiddleheads, garlic scapes, and fresh herbs I didn’t have the time to grow on a hardly-gets-sun kitchen shelf. Planning and planting our own garden, showing Hadley what happens when we put something special in dirt and take care of it.

Finally getting a thorough spring cleaning done (I don’t know the last time I truly did the spring cleaning that my mother would approve), even if it means requesting that my mom come and assist me while the hubs watches the baby. Cleaning every square inch, including those damn glass ceiling fan light covers. Yes, even under and behind the couch. Organizing the basement and giving *someone* a chance to finish painting. Piling stuff for the annual garage sale.

Considering our summer vacation, or even grabbing a quick spring getaway to another state to visit friends without the fear of sudden winter weather thwarting our plans.

And Easter. Honestly, Easter was never my favorite holidays, although I’ve always had reverence for Lent and self sacrifice in order to cleanse one’s spirit; mind you, the only part of Lent I’ve participated in this year is the Almighty Fish Fry. (As a child, I gave things up, went to church…all that.)

I was always incredibly wary of the Easter Bunny. Was he a small (normal-sized) rabbit? A human-sized bunny? A guy in a fuzzy suit? Either way, how would a rabbit have the ability to hide eggs AND carry those cheap-o baskets full of stuff to everyone…with bunny paws? Santa, somehow, was relatively believable. Easter Bunny? Not s’much.

But, it’s the fact that we can start our own tradition. That it’s not a huge gift-driven holiday that can be ruined by the best intentions of relatives. That WE can get a handful of useful, fun items (an outfit or two, a summer hat and sunglasses, some bubbles to watch us blow, a couple of books) for the EB to bring him. I look forward to the days when we can insert sidewalk chalk and a jump rope, and color and hide eggs (although we’ll have to buy regular white ones; he won’t know they come in any color but brown). That we can have a fun day. It’s nostalgic for me, I guess.

As a child, even if it was still REALLY cold, we’d run outside to at least try out our bubbles. Even if the sticky solution ran down our hands and arms in freezing cold streams. Sometimes, a simple walk around town (whether before or after dinner) was invigorating, probably because we hadn’t walked during winter. It also meant that we’d be hauling our bikes out of storage in the garage soon, wiping the cobwebs and mud from the previous year off and filling the tires with air. That we could switch out our fluffy, warm winter coats with thinner jackets.

So, what can I say? I’m allowing myself to be excited. Of course, I’m enjoying the time we have together now, but what’s wrong with a little daydreaming about what’s to come? Any readers excited about the new season?? (Besides getting rid of the cruddy weather. Mind you, I’m in the midst of a snow day right now.)

And don’t even get me started on the summertime. Squeeeeeeaaaal!
(The night that I wrote this, the baby slept. What’re the odds? Could be a handful of reasons, but I’m not complaining!)