Sunday, December 20, 2009

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

And if you need proof, check out this link to Santa Speaking.

Zoe's getting a phone call from the jolly old elf tonight. We have a recording of last year's call on mini-CD, which is a tree ornament this year.

It's a blast to listen to, fun to watch and a reminder of why being a kid is really cool this time of year.

The second and third (of three) Showcase videos

More dances completed at Showcase.

Showcase '09

Behind on blog posting (go figure), I'm using time off work to catch up on a laundry list of things that have become not-so-silent naggers in the back of my mind. One of them is to capture in this online scrapbook-of-sorts the videos I shot of Zoe's dance showcase before Thanksgiving.

Here's hoping the home computer can limp along just long enough for me to save, download, upload and backup all the things I've neglected to transfer before now ... starting with these videos, shot on my iPhone.

The background: Showcase is a regular feature event for the local/regional Arthur Murray dance studios. Zoe takes ballroom dance lessons from Mike and Suzi at the Zionsville studio (props to them for a great experience!) This was Zoe's first "event" outside the studio, where she completed 14 short dances with others from the region. There was judging, but no winning ... just professional critiques of her progress so far.

Zoe's Grandma and Grandpa Sego drove over from Terre Haute to watch and enjoy the day with us. Grandma and I both had tears in our eyes during the waltz. Seems like just yesterday, no kidding, that this kid was screaming in my arms at all hours of the day and night, demanding ATTENTION non-stop. :) Now, she seems so grown up. It really is true what they say -- the time absolutely flies.

Here's the girl that will always be my baby, making me so proud and so happy to wear the title "mom" each and every day.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Two days worth remembering ... for many reasons

I spent the last two days at Camp Tecumseh near Lafayette, IN with my favorite daughter, Zoe.

It was a trip to remember ... for many reasons. Many because of her. Several not.

I am so grateful at this very moment -- weary from two days of trail hikes and lack of sleep and cold showering -- for a warm house and clean clothes. And for a kid who seems to get it in terms of life and life lessons and respecting others.

Fifth graders, of which Zoe is one, are near and dear to my heart. But after 48 hours (or about that) with 50 of my kiddo's counterparts, I have to wonder WTF?

Where is common decency? And manners? What happened to respecting others, including peers AND adults? And why oh why is the word "crap" or "freakin" acceptable as common vernacular among today's 11-year-old set? Seriously.

I am a new woman after this camp outing (a tradition at Zoe's elementary school, where fifth graders learn life lessons and leadership skills, among other things). I slept very little. But oh my, did I learn a lot.

Among the lessons:
1. Listening is a life skill that's lacking -- not just among kids, but adults, too ... and it was reinforced many times in scheduled and not-so-scheduled activities.

2. Helicopter parents are alive and well -- and even if I thought I might be one, this camping experience taught me that I am nothing close to the definition. Wow.

3. If you give people a chance (both young and old), they will definitely surprise you. Good and bad.

4. Buses are for the birds. Both of the school variety and otherwise. (Why did anyone ever think it was a good idea to get upwards of 3 dozen people crammed into a tight space with limited leg room and expect anything BUT a tyranny?)

All I can say after an exhausting two days of camping, hiking, climbing and exploring is that I am so very proud of my daughter and her closest friends for being model fifth graders ... and that I thank the good Lord for fifth grade teachers who can accept all the children in their care for who they are and where they land on any given day.

I could NEVER be an elementary school teacher. But I am so glad there are people who can be just that.

And these two days go down in my books as the best and worst of times. But mostly the best. I'm so glad I had this time with the Z-bird. I know other parents feels the same -- even if theirs were among the "worst" of the times we had. :)

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Remembering 9/11

I remember in 1994, traveling to the World Trade Center to meet with a Wall Street Journal reporter in my role as a communicator for Eli Lilly. We had coffee and bagels. We talked about clinical trials, off-label uses of various drugs I was trained to speak to, the weather ... and the building we were sitting in.

It was amazing. The Twin Towers. Heart of the Financial District. Thousands of people coming and going, creating a buzz with their words, their walking, their hurried rush to get somewhere important.

I love visiting New York. I loved seeing those towers up close and personal. They were awe-inspiring, and the thought of working in them always intrigued me after that sit-down with my reporter friend. I remember turning around to take a long, last look at them as my taxi pulled away and headed back to the conference I was attending.

Flash forward seven years. I was dropping off my daughter at day care to start my day of work in Champaign, Ill. The TV was tuned to NBC's Today Show. Surreal images flashed across the screen as I helped Zoe fix a glass of milk and sit down with the other kids at the kitchen table. I nearly dropped the milk carton.

I'll never forget the gut-wrenching feeling of standing there, jaw on the floor, in a state of disbelief, as I watched a tower burn, people run, panic ensue. I left...went home...tried to call Zoe's dad who lives in California and travels constantly, feeling like I needed to be sure he wasn't in NYC or on a plane that day. (He wasn't. He was watching it unfold on TV, too.)

Then the second plane hit the second tower. We all remember those images. I just sat down and cried. And flashed back to being in the lobby of one of those towers years prior, hoping that my reporter friend Elise was no where near Ground Zero that day. (She wasn't.)

It seems like a lifetime ago that the towers fell, but then again like only yesterday. So many innocent people died that day. And a city (and country) was forever changed. I was, too.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Inspiration comes in many forms

This week, I was inspired by three "happenings" in my life -- one was actually mine to own, the other two were external.

First, it was to paint. My house. By myself. Walls, doors, trim. I hired someone to finish a half-finished job for me, but as it turns out, the "professional" was only as good as his self-proclaimed label, and my skills as a painter far outweigh his. So I found myself being inspired to do it myself -- again -- and finish the job the way I want it to be done.

Second, it was to speak out against bad customer service. (Those who know me well will likely find it hard to believe I have a hard time speaking out about anything ... but that's beside the point.) I'm tired of crappy customer service, in whatever form it takes. One of the blogs I follow (Heather B. Armstrong, a.k.a dooce) had a crappy experience with a $1,300 Maytag washer. She spoke out on Twitter. The difference between her speaking out and me doing the same, though, is her 1 MILLION followers on Twitter. But she did it. And a firestorm erupted online. But she finally got the service she deserved, and it made me pledge to myself to stop trying to explain away crappy customer service at any level. Next time it happens, I say so (nicely) and move toward resolution. Period.

Third, it was to cook. Zoe and I saw Julie & Julia at the matinee today, and it was fabulous! I laughed out loud at so many points that it would have been embarassing if we handn't been two of only five people in the theater. The story is fun, funny and fantastic to witness. If you haven't seen it, GO! It'll make you want to use butter in everything you cook ... and I did tonight. Granted, it was fettucine alfredo from a prepared mix, but next time, I'm inspired to make it from scratch and use LOTS of the real deal in the sauce.

I hope you find inspiration this week in all the simple things that make our lives so rich!

Monday, August 10, 2009

First day of fifth grade


The first day of school went off without a hitch. We were up on time, out the door on time, meeting friends for breakfast on time. Woot! Woot!

Zoe even lost the first-day jitters at some point during her semi-sleepless night. Once she was around Makayla and Jordan, enjoying pancakes and bacon before the bell rang, all systems were go for a great day.

Her new teacher:
Loves her, even though she had reservations.

Her new desk location (near the front of the class): More than tolerable, since she's positioned between people she thinks are awesome.

All the new fifth grade rules:
Well, they'll take some getting used to. But with Safety Patrol responsibilities and goals set for school-year-long accomplishments she wants to strive for, it should work out just fine.

Fifth grade. Already. Where DOES the time go? :)

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Finding a new Nemo, sort of.

I've delayed writing this post because, well, I was feeling pretty bad about the circumstances. Suffice it to say that when it comes to caring for animals, I lack in the "caring" department.

While Zoe was gone for a month, I was left in charge of all things animal-related. Including her fish. There were four. For 3.5 weeks, there were four.

Then, in a freak tank-cleaning accident, I managed to completely empty 10 gallons of fish water onto Zoe's bedroom floor, effectively turning four frail fish into bottom feeders. Yeah. I'm good like that. When I discovered the carnage, I was devastated -- mostly from imagining the big tear droplets and bloodshot eyes I was going to see after breaking the news to the little one who trusted me with fish care in her absence.

I cleaned up the water mess before work one day last week, but left the fish carcasses on the rocks until later that day when I thought I would feel like "stomaching" the disposal process. But alas, my plans didn't go exactly as planned. In fact, I had what I would call a "Lazarus moment" with two of the fish late that same day after I poured a gallon of water into the tank to get them to float for removal and, um, a flushing burial.

I kid you not when I say I nearly peed myself as first one fish (a sucker fish) and then another (a hearty Gurami ... spelling?) started flapping and splashing around the tank in two inches of water. At first I thought it was some sort of funky fish muscle reaction (do they have muscles?) to the water. Then, as I added more H2O, they swam! They SWAM!!!!

I refilled the tank and waited/watched for them to croak. I checked on them every two hours or so. They continued to make a comeback. I fed them. They still swam. One looked stunned (for obvious reasons) and sometimes took a break by resting its weary fins on a fake castle in the rocks. But for a couple of days, it appeared as if I'd have a whopper of a fish tale to tell Zoe about how two of our four fish survived my slaughtering ways.

Turns out I was wrong. Day 3 after resurrection: System failure began for both fish. 24 hours later, they were floating, just in time for me to scoop them out and dispose of their smelly selves before hopping on a plane to fetch Z. Great, I thought. So much for my hero status as a fish savior! I'd break the news when the time was right.

Fast forward 12 hours, and I'm sitting on an airport bench with Z. I tell her I've got some bad news to report. She knew it HAD to be something animal-related. "It's the fish," I said. "I'm really sorry to have to tell you that I made a HUGE mistake when cleaning the tank and they didn't make it." Of course, I had to share a few details. But then, Z surprised me.

I had tears in my eyes, and she was the one comforting me as she patted me on the arm and said, "Mom, it's not like you did it intentionally. It's really going to be OK. They were fish. They had a good life. I understand."

WHAT? Where's the 10-year-old drama I was anticipating? Where's the irrational blame I expected to be hurled in my direction? All in my head, apparently, because Z took it like a trooper. I calmed myself down and a few hours later, on the plane, she woke up from a nap and said: "So now that the fish are gone, does it mean I can get NEW fish to replace them?"

But of course.

So that's where we'll be this weekend, after a thorough tank cleaning last night. In search of a new Nemo of sorts ... with me secretly hoping that Z never leaves me in charge of their care again!

RIP Laura, Flipper, Rachel and Robin. It was good while it lasted.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

There and back ... and back again!

It's been a whirlwind 24-hour period in the Sego household. And while "tales from the world of travel" aren't usually journal-worthy, this trip to and from San Francisco was a whopper and well worth the effort to put words on paper (er, the Interweb.)

3:30 p.m. Monday: I left Indianapolis International en route to San Francisco to pick up my one and only daughter after her month-long visit with her dad and family. I took the roundabout way of getting there because frankly, there isn't a good way to get there from here.

5:30 p.m. Monday: Land in Minneapolis-St. Paul for a brief layover before catching a late plane to SFO.

10 p.m. Monday: Land in San Francisco, make familial connections, cry a lot while hugging the girl who has grown a foot, then settle in for the trek back to the Midwest.

1:50 a.m. Tuesday: Crash out on plane from SFO to Atlanta (again, there's no good way to get back here from there) and try to sleep on a four-hour flight that was packed full of people. (I'll spare you the rant about the ticketing check-in process for Delta, a Northwest partner airline, that apparently doesn't know the difference between Minneapolis and Indianapolis when it comes to telling customers WHICH LINE TO STAND IN TO GET A BOARDING PASS. Ahem.)

6:30 a.m. Tuesday: Land at ATL and notice that, hey, they've done a lot with that airport recently, and it looks pretty darn good! A cup of Starbucks for me and a chocolate banana smoothie for Zoe, and we're feeling like home is right around the corner!

10:30 a.m. Tuesday: A medium-length layover later, we're loaded on yet another plane, this time bound for IND on a quick flight that is SUPPOSED to take one (1) hour and eight (8) minutes.

11:20 a.m. Tuesday: Ears popping and stuff falling off my lap tray, I wake to the sound of the pilot and airline attendants telling people to SIT DOWN and BUCKLE THEIR SEAT BELTS on this approach to Indy. What they really wanted to say was: "Would you people get OUT of the bathroom for the 44th time and STAY IN YOUR SEATS -- WE'RE TRYING TO LAND HERE!"

We make our approach. The clouds look crazy. Rain starts to slap the windows. Everyone on the plane is a little confused because there's been no sign of stupid weather on the trip til now. The wings start dipping from side to side. The lady in the seat next to me begins saying a rosary. Zoe's asleep on my shoulder, but she wakes up as we come down quickly (a little too quickly) and see the stripes on the runway rush up to greet us.

And then, just as we're about to touch down -- as in, it looked like you could reach out and almost touch the ground it was so close -- we suddenly feel the plane's nose push for the sky, and the pilot accelerated like nothing I've ever felt in a commercial jet. We then climbed high above and away from IND ... and my heart literally hurt as the pilot came on the PA system to tell us: "People, we've got a problem. We're being diverted to Dayton because Indianapolis just closed its strip and we don't have the fuel to circle and wait out this line of storms."

Little did we know these were storms extraordinaire. They pounded the Indy area at the exact same time we were about to land after a VERY LONG trip ... which extended this little jaunt into the late hours of the afternoon.

Don't get me wrong. Dayton is a lovely place. Sort of. The airport is, well, modest by anyone's standards. We spent 90 minutes there before boarding again and making our way back to IND, landing at a lovely 2:15 p.m. in somewhat overcast conditions.

And then we sat. And sat. And sat some more. In the plane, mind you, because every gate was full with airplanes that were either stranded, late or unable to take off yet as the storms finally blew their way through the Hoosier heartland.

It was 3 p.m. before we emerged to the massive crowd waiting inside the airport itself. It was a mess. Baggage claim wasn't any prettier. And the drive home? Well, let's just say there are some seriously STUPID PEOPLE on the rainy roads in Indy on Tuesday afternoons -- that's all I'm sayin'.

We walked in the house shortly after 4 p.m., exhausted and thankful that this day's journey was finally over ... and especially thankful to have been there (SFO) and back (to IND) and back again (via DAY).

Friday, July 24, 2009

How to make a beautiful life

This one comes courtesy of my mom, who gave me one of the most beautiful and moving cards for my birthday last year. Since then, this primo Hallmark selection of hers has been hanging inside a cabinet in my bathroom, and I read it every day to remind myself of what's important. Maybe you'll find it equally relevant to your own life:

Love yourself.
Make peace with who you are and where you are at this moment in time.

Listen to your heart.
If you can't hear what it's saying in this noisy world, make time for yourself. Enjoy your own company. Let your mind wander among the stars.

Try. Take chances. Make mistakes.
Life can be messy and confusing at times, but it's also full of surprises. The next rock in your path might be a stepping stone.

Be happy.
When you don't have what you want, want what you have. Make do. That's a well-kept secret of contentment.

There aren't any shortcuts to tomorrow. You have to make your own way.
To know where you're going is only part of it. You need to know where you've been, too. And if you ever get lost, don't worry. The people who love you will find you. Count on it.

Life isn't days and years. It's what you do with time and with all the goodness and grace that's inside you.

Make a beautiful life ... the kind of life you deserve.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Shout out to Vine & Table in Carmel

New (to me) but old (to others who remember it as the old Kahn's in Carmel) is Vine & Table and all its amazing food, wine, spirits and assorted goodies.

Spent a delicious hour in the store this weekend and walked away with a lighter pocketbook but bags full of fabulous food and wine to sample.

If you're looking for a way to spice up an outdoor picnic or just want to try a new vintage or two, this place has EVERYTHING you could ever want -- in selection, in customer service, in pricing.

Good stuff. Good value. Good times. Give it a shot if you're in the neighborhood.

The Monday letdown

Coming off of what was perhaps one of the best, most relaxing and genuinely fun weekends I've had in at least a year, this Monday was -- to say the least -- a letdown.

Work? I couldn't concentrate. Phone calls? I struggled to get through the simplest of conversations with colleagues. Drop-ins from random office workers? They annoyed me to no end today.

My dog ... annoying, too. A phone conversation with Zoe cut short -- irritating that she had to go to make an errand run with her California family. Me sitting here writing about being annoyed: definitely an irritant.

Collapsing on the couch after a quick dinner at the kitchen counter, I asked myself: "Why the funk?" The short answer is: I'm disappointed. I wish this weekend didn't have to end.

Tuesday has got to be better/easier/less of a letdown than today. Here's hoping ...

Friday, July 17, 2009

Since she's been gone

Zoe's been in San Francisco for two weeks, and I can't begin to describe the overwhelming sense of loneliness that's hit me in each of the 13.5 days since she's been gone.

Yes, she's having a great time. Yes, she's experiencing an amazing marine biology camp for kids her age, compliments of her dad and stepmom. Yes, she's enjoying all that fabulous California weather that beats the heck out of Indiana temps (and tempests) this time of year.

And yes, I miss her like crazy.

In the mom manual that I got when Zoe was born, there is no chapter on "coping with feelings of loss during long visitation." And I must have missed the checklist that most surely was in there about "useful things you can do to fill your time while you wonder where/how your kid is for the 30 days she spends with the other side of her family." Those weren't in the divorce manual either, by the way.

I wasn't prepared for these feelings. And they were exacerbated last night when I got to "see" her via Web cam for the first time since she flew to the west coast.

She showed me the gaps in her gums where teeth used to be (I missed two more falling out.) She told me all about her day at camp, spent with other 10-12 year olds catching sharks and touching crabs and exploring the habitats of various marine life. (I missed the "fishy smell" that I'm sure she had when she hopped in the car at day's end.) And she looked like she's grown at least a foot in this short time away. (I missed each and every inch ... or 1/4 inch along the way.)

As I signed off our video chat with tears in my eyes, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that she'll be home in just two (LONG) short weeks. And when she gets back, I need to remember THIS feeling so that I appreciate all the time I do get to spend with her, even on the most challenging of days.

Since she's been gone, I'd like to think I've remembered a parenting/life lesson or two. And one of them is this: Kids are a gift. Treasure them and all the minutes you get to spend with them, whenever and wherever that might be.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Wear a helmet. Please.

I was coming home from work yesterday when I drove up on an accident that happened at the entrance to my neighborhood. It was a bad scene.

I was about three cars back when it happened, but by the time I creeped into the subdivision entrance, it was obvious this crash was not going to be cleaned up anytime soon. A small car. A Harley Davidson motorcycle. A young girl standing screaming in the middle of the highway. An older man laying on the ground, his head bleeding profusely, his sunglasses laying beside him.

The motorcycle was about 50 feet further up the road. There wasn't a helmet in sight. People were scrambling out of cars as fast as possible to see what, if anything, they could do to help. I did too.

After throwing my truck into park, I jogged up to the young girl (she was 23, it turns out) and just put my arms around her to walk her away from the accident a little ways. She was hysterical, standing outside the driver's door of her car, staring down at the man who'd just cracked his skull open on her front bumper when the pair didn't see each other entering/approaching a really dangerous intersection.

Police were called. Firetrucks arrived. Paramedics were next, followed by more police, more firefighters, and finally, LifeLine. The man on the motorcycle wasn't wearing a helmet. And while his motorcycle never made contact with the 23-year-old's car, his head most certainly did as he skidded his way down the road in an attempt to avoid a crash.

The girl was devastated and sobbing uncontrollably for at least an hour. I talked to her mom on the phone and gave her directions to the crash site. Then I stayed with the girl, along with another lady from my neighborhood, and just tried to keep her from going crazy while she watched, worried and wondered WHAT was going to happen to this man whose face she said she saw up-close-and-personal through the windshield as she slammed on her brakes pre-crash.

I felt awful for her. I felt awful for the man who was critically injured. I couldn't do anything but just be there for this "kid" who knew no one, had no one in town that was family and could not for the life of her remember anyone's phone number but her mother's.

The man, according to the paper, is from Lebanon. He's at Methodist now. They don't know if he'll make it. The girl, she told me, is from Noblesville. Her mom is from Carmel. The two reunited about an hour after the crash. Both were shaken, distraught, and terribly, terribly scared for the man who was injured.

I drove away after making sure they had what they needed and thanked my lucky stars it wasn't me or anyone I knew in that intersection. And I was immediately grateful that Zoe took her helmet with her to San Francisco, if only for simple bike rides to the park.

Head injuries are oh-so-devastating. This man might have been OK if he'd worn a helmet. Please wear yours. No matter what.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

A road trip, a roller coaster, some tears & a splashin' good time!


The summer trip to Holiday World was yesterday, and Zoe took her BFF Makayla along for the ride. This, for me, was ideal, given my lack of love for long ride lines and roller coasters. And for Zoe and Makayla, it was ideal too because they got to "do their own thing" without (much) interference from a parental unit as they ran, danced, sung and sloshed their way through a day at the Santa Claus, Indiana theme park.

We greeted the day early, hit the road for a 3-hour drive, and then marched into the theme park with a few thousand of our closest non-friends to see how much fun we could pack into the daylight hours. When all was said and done, we packed A LOT into the time we had and left the park hot, tired and full of soda and ice cream.

The highlights:

  • Zoe's first roller coaster ride, EVER. Makayla is a veteran coaster rider, and with her coaxing, Zoe was relatively easily convinced to give it a go. She rode The Legend, the mid-level coaster that only goes 60mph while twisting and turning its way around what appeared to be a mostly wooden track. I wish I could have captured the look on her face at the end of the ride as the coaster screeched to a halt. Death warmed over would NOT be an overstatement. She had shaky legs coming down the exit stairs and immediately collapsed into my arms. The anticipation now gone, she regaled me with tales from the dark side of steep climbs and gut-wrenching drops. And as we moved on to the next ride, she eyed it carefully ... and then the tears came as the thought of going up/down/around or anywhere near fast was just too much for her. "It was the scariest thing I've ever done, mom," she said with big wet ones dripping down her cheeks. "If I never see another roller coaster in my life, it will be too soon." And so we moved on ...

  • Really bad pizza and a burger at a picnic table that appeared to have been vomited on by the previous patrons. Where were those wet wipes I used to carry 24-7 when Zoe was a toddler? Man, I could have used them on Wednesday. At any rate, with full bellies, the kids were ready to tackle the rest of the park.


  • Pilgrim's Plunge, the newest ride at the park. Picture a giant log boat, filled with 14 people, being carried by giant elevator up-up-up about 20 stories to the top of a giant roller coaster-style hill ... and then dropped/launched down a giant slide into a giant pool of cold water. The sound of it was a like a waterfall when the boat hit the pool. The riders were drenched from the front to the back of the boat. And it was awesome to watch -- and to ride, according to Z&M. They were in the front seat. And given roller coaster reaction from Zoe, I was surprised that she was happy about this experience. But she was. And it was amazing to see!


  • Water park action, complete with water slides, dumping water buckets, water guns, a wave pool and more. The weather cooperated, the sun came out and the girls got more than their fare share of chlorinated water up their noses before we moved on to ...


  • Arcade games. The goal was to win the biggest, baddest turtle and monkey in the place. A few $20 bills later, we were no closer to the prize. They left with a handful of stuffed flowers, a strange looking snake and a couple of those Beanie Baby wanna-be animals to add to their respective collections.

An ice cream stop and a photo opp later, we were headed for the car after 7 hours of sun and fun.


The drive home gave everyone a chance to relive the highs, lows and tears, of course.

It was worth the trip. I got some great people watching time, too! (More on that some other time.)

Here's hoping you get a chance to visit a theme park with kids sometime soon.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Summer resolutions

10 things I resolve to do this summer, in honor of the first official day of the season:

1. Finish painting the rooms in my house that are not yet completely redone.

2. Organize 5 years worth of photos that are either on my computer, in my phone, on CD or in boxes, awaiting some sort of categorization.

3. Lose at least 10 pounds.

4. Take an entire day off work, just for me, and NOT check e-mail or answer the phone ... and enjoy a massage at a local spa.

5. Hang out with friends at least once in a social setting that I would typically avoid or ignore.

6. Try at least one new restaurant on the list of Indy Monthly's "best of the best."

7. Replace the 15-year-old carpet in my house.

8. Read a book, old or new.

9. Get two screws removed from my right ankle.

10. Tell all the people I love exactly how much they mean to me and why they are such important parts of my life.

Now that's a great summer. Period.

Friday, May 22, 2009

She is my dancing queen ...


Zoe had her first ballroom dance class tonight, and she had an absolute blast. I can't believe it was her first time -- she looked and acted as if she'd been doing it for years!

The instructor Mike whirled and twirled her around the floor for a full 45 minutes, teaching her the basics of five dances. Her favorite? The swing. Especially the rock step.

It was fun to watch. A smile never left her face, or mine for that matter.

We go back on Tuesday for more of the same. And if Zoe has anything to say about it, we'll soon be regulars at the studio's group classes and Friday night parties!

Cue the music. The girl's ready to DANCE!

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The kindness of strangers


Sometimes in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day, people surprise you.

Such was the case this evening, when during Invisible Fence Training Session #2 for my dear dog, a stranger stopped by. Actually, he roared up in a big red diesel 4x4 pickup.

Turns out, he was a firefighter. And not just any firefighter, but one of the ones who came to my aid on Feb. 22 when I fell on ice in my driveway and busted my leg (also courtesy of above-mentioned dog. Ahem.)

He was in the neighborhood to visit a friend, drove by, saw me "teaching" Lucy, saw the cast on my leg and decided to stop and say hi and see how I was doing. Turns out the "fire run" that was my leg-breaking accident was pretty memorable for the whole Lebanon Fire Department crew that showed up at my house that cold February Sunday.

"I don't do deformities well," he said quite frankly, "and while we're not supposed to tell people how awful their situation appears, all I wanted to say that day was 'Geez, that's AWFUL and how did you twist your foot around like THAT!' That was a bad break."

Indeed it was ... but these many weeks later, with this really nice firefighter standing in my yard and showing genuine concern for how I was doing today, the leg felt (and feels) pretty good.

I thanked him for his on-the-job efforts and for stopping by. I also asked him to pass along my thanks to his buddies, who've apparently talked about my splayed-out-on-the-icy-driveway incident amongst themselves from time to time. :)

And then he was off.

Sometimes, in the middle of an otherwise ordinary day, people demonstrate kindness that you don't expect.

What a nice surprise.

Monday, May 18, 2009

It's a dog's life

Just when you think you have perhaps the most UNtrainable dog in the world, along comes the beauty of an Invisible Fence.

Yes, I invested in one. Yes, I believe it's worth it. Yes, my disobedient dog is heeding its beeps. So far. And here's hoping that come Day 2 of "training central" that she gets that the flags in the yard = shocking results if she dares to cross the line.

OK, so call me a hard ass. But enough is enough when it comes to digging out of the back yard and wandering the neighborhood. This comes as a welcome surprise to my judge of a neighbor, who just this weekend reminded me that dog without a leash is a dog worth sending to the pound with the aid of the appropriate animal control authories.

After I muttered a polite "bite me" as I walked away, I chastised myself for waiting six years -- yes I've lived in THIS house with THIS dog for SIX years -- to finally keep my dog in my own yard.

And tonight, Zoe and I ventured into the front yard with Lucy the miniature daschund in tow, decked out in her full "training regalia." Pink collar with fence transmitter; padded harness with leash attached, in a lovely matching purple color. (A girl's gotta pay attention to her apparel, even in dogland.)

I'm pleased to report that she not only listened to the beeping warnings that the fence emitted, but she also turned away from it and retreated to the safe zone of the front yard, just like the training video said she should. Who knew it was this easy?

So I'm patting myself on the back right now. And Lucy earned herself a few bites of leftover chicken nugget for being such a good dog.

Tomorrow, it's more training in different parts of the yard. And hopefully, the rabbit contingent that occupies the vacant field behind our house won't lure her into being her "true self."

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Do me a favor, Favre...


I'm not a huge football fan, by any stretch of the imagination. Sure, I follow the Colts and a few other teams (or QB butts) that I enjoy watching on the big screen TV.


But when I read this stupid story in a stupid sports blog about stupid Brett Favre today, I just had to say something. To someone. Anyone, in fact, who will listen!


Brett Favre, the once-golden QB at Green Bay, needs to shut his mouth and move on with his life. Period. He's talking to Minnesota now about ANOTHER return to the NFL -- so he can get revenge on the Packers? Oh for God's sake.


Enough whining. Enough nit picking. Enough of his crap, period!


He had a long and storied career with the Packers. And then he got pissy about getting old.


Get over it already, Brett! We all age ... and right now, I'm thinking I'm doing a pretty damn good job of it, if I use the Favre barometer.


As this sports blogger writes, maybe Favre SHOULD go back on the field at Minnesota and see what kinds of stats he can put on the board. Forced (spiteful) throws = interceptions (deserved) galore.


It would serve him right.

Friday, May 1, 2009

In memory of Grandma Bee


May 3 would have been my Grandma Bender's 92nd birthday.

I think about her almost daily and have a beautiful picture of her and Zoe on my desk at work, courtesy of my sister ... and when the calendar changed months today, it was a bittersweet reminder that Granny Bee is gone. She passed away last June after years of suffering with Alzheimer's and Parkinson's.

Her name, in case you're wondering, is a throwback to her days as a companion beekeeper and more to my Grandpa, who was -- among other things -- a master honey maker, antique collector, woodworker and all-around salesman. They were Granny and Grandpa Bee for as long as I can remember. They even signed birthday cards that way.

I spent some time today going through pictures from a DVD my sister created for Granny's funeral. I grabbed a few of my favorites and share just one of them here, just because. That beautiful black-and-white photo was taken by my Uncle Larry when I was about 3 or 4, and we were at Granny and Grandpa's lake cabin on Raccoon Lake in Parke County.

She was a tough old bird, that lady! And the boxes full of pictures that my mom has waiting for us all to comb through are evidence of a rich, full, busy life. I'm thankful for the wonderful memories I have of growing up with her around for every part of my life.

She loved flowers. She loved family. She loved me. And I'm thankful that Zoe got to know her just a little.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

And I changed my settings

To allow anyone to comment if they want to.

Sorry for the inconvenience! :)

Close-to-home threats

So my daughter's not in high school, but it's never too soon to start worrying about the challenges she'll face there ... even in "small town" America.

Today, news of an arrest in a case involving a student threat to kill dozens of his peers and teachers.

It makes me wonder if all the anniversary coverage of the Columbine incident prompted someone else to think along the same lines? Granted, the news organizations didn't go overboard with the coverage, but it was still out there and prominent.

I'm thankful someone (a student) took the threat seriously enough to notify officials at the school, and that school leaders took it seriously enough to notify authorities.

This kind of news sends chills up my spine. Kids have so many issues to deal with, and from listening to my sisters talk about their experiences as teachers/administrators in school systems here and there, it's anything BUT a laughing matter.

Just one more thing to worry about as the little ones grow up, way too fast...

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Prom fashions, 2009 style


I'm going to sound even older than my age when I say this, but WTH is up with prom fashions?


Had the occasion to sit on the patio of a downtown eatery Saturday evening, and my oh my, did I ever get an eyeful.


Fashion police, where were you?


Gaudy dresses, ta-tas hanging out for God and everybody to see, pantylines marking the path to places no teen should be showing the world, and flip flops on the feet of more than half of evening gown wearers.


There were fake tans, up dos, rhinestone jewelry out the ying yang, guys in white tuxedos with blue cumberbunds (when did THOSE come back in style?), and just about every imaginable combination of short, long and not-so-appropriate dresses on the girls.


It was people watching at its finest, I must say. But I had to wonder what the parents of some of these kids were thinking when they let their pride and joy step out the door looking like a painted harlot? Or a stripper, minus the pole.


I hereby reserve the right to veto any prom dress that my now 10-year-old eventually begs to wear because "it's the style" or "everybody else is wearing this!"


Call me old fashioned, but there's something to be said for "understated" and "elegant" on prom night.


Maybe those hoop skirts and pink-and-lavender ruffles from the '80s weren't as bad as I remember them. Lord knows they would have looked better on some of today's teens than what I witnessed on the street last night.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Scary stuff, this truth

Who says reality TV isn't real?

For me tonight, The Biggest Loser's Kristen touched a nerve when she said: "I'm scared because as soon as I declare I want it, it'll be ripped away from me."

THAT got my wheels turning. And my stomach churning.

How many times in my life have I secretly harbored doubt and let insecurities prevail because of fear? How many times have I told myself if I want it too much, it'll hurt too much when I don't get it? Or it is taken away or disappears?

(Insert inner voice here, chanting: It's better to NOT say it, NOT want it, NOT wish for it, NOT to work 150% for it because saying it, wanting it, wishing for it, working harder than anything for it will lead to ... disappointment, disillusionment, dissatisfaction.)

I'm not talking about material things here. I'm talking real stuff -- at work, at home, in my relationship, in friendships, with family.

When Kristen said what she said, a lightbulb went on for me. Not necessarily for the first time, but for what I hope is the last time.

Wanting something, saying you want it and working at it without hesitation or fear of "what if ..."

I need to flip the switch in my head from its self-defeating setting and let go of the fear. Today.

Here's to appreciating all the success and happiness that can come from things that are good, right and fun ... and letting go of the worry and pain that accompany all the "what ifs."

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Welcome friends and family!

Fly by regularly for updates on all things Bird-related. And otherwise. :)