My parents were staying in the Outer Banks this past week and invited us to join.  
      Being Mother's Day, I couldn't think of a better way to spend time than with family on the beach and it ended up being wonderful.  Not because I didn't have to go to work, cook or clean all day - as nice as that was - it was instead because of something that happened.
     We stayed in a place called Duck that was just about as beautiful and low key as you could get.  The beach was quiet with very few people, making it relaxing and nice.
     Watching the kids play and run around the beach, I turned when I noticed two people coming from far off on the left.  The closer they got, I could tell they were a young couple in their twenties, going for a walk.  
     The girl was wearing a cute bikini and had a tan that was only outdone by her legs that went on for miles.  The guy was just as sun kissed, with abs you could literally eat a meal off of.  It was difficult not to stare at the two as they sauntered towards us like the pages of an Abercrombie ad.
     Holding my sundress to gather the kids out of their way, I realized the couple looking at our four wild children not with smiles, but with annoyance, as though the kids were going to block their path.  
     My husband and I both noticed, so together we began yelling over the sound of the waves to herd the kids in our direction.  
     It was too late.  As the young couple approached, they were visibly bothered.  As the kids ran to us, one of the boys was in mid throw of his football which almost totally Marsha Brady-ed the supermodel, while another one of our sons was flying a kite and all but clotheslined Mr. J. Crew.
     Mortified, my husband and I ran to get the kids and waved gestures of apologies to the couple as they shot us a look and continued to walk by.
      Just then, I remembered walking the beach in my 20's with my cute and young husband.  I remembered not thinking a thing about wearing a bikini on a sunny stroll along the shore.  I would never have thought to wear a sundress or a hat, sunblock, sunglasses...when I was young and carefree.
     I found myself elbowing my husband as they passed and whispered, "I'll give you five bucks if you yell to them, 'THIS IS YOUR FUTURE'".  
     I wondered how fast they would run.
     Run to hold onto those carefree days without a worry in the world and a complete unconsciousness as to the reality of the depths of responsibility life would bring with time and experience.  They couldn't realize how things would change even physically.  Grey hair, wrinkles, saggy bits of skin, extra weight...all the joys of getting older.
      I thought about this as I watched our kids continue to laugh and play.
      As luck would have it, a little later from the opposite direction, an elderly couple began to approach.  Their hair shone white in the sun and their pants were rolled up to their knees.
      Learning from before, Adam and I immediately shot towards the kids and scurried them in our direction to clear the way for the older couple.
      Keeping their hands linked together, they walked unbothered in sync and with smiles, enjoying the sand and waves.  Their skin was worn with tanned wrinkles mapping the years of laughter along their eyes and cheeks.   
     Nearing us, they noticed each one of the kids with a genuine warmth that came through so clearly...and then at me...with my frizzy sea blown hair, sandy wet sundress and exasperated look.
     Their eyes told a story of life and love and how important it was to cherish what really mattered...the real things that go so much deeper than looks or carefree youth.
     That's when it hit me.  They were far more beautiful than the younger couple ever could have been.  Every grey hair, wrinkle, saggy bit of skin and yes, even extra weight was worn in truth, as a joy of getting older. 
     Again, we waved gestures of apologies but without saying a word, they waved back, with love as if to remind us to cherish each minute that God has given.  Especially with the gifts that were all around us...and more importantly...right in front of us. 
     Happy Mother's Day to you and yours.  May gifts of love surround you on this day and every other day.   

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     When we had a house filled with boys, we used to dream about what it would be like to have a baby girl.  Nerf guns and footballs were constant reminders of how distant the possibility of baby dolls and fairies would be.
    We'd go to the beach and watch in amazement as the boys instinctively ran constantly in and out of the waves, laughing and throwing sand balls at each other the entire time.  It always shocked me to look over at random little girls, sitting quietly in the sand a few families away.  Their adorable buckets and shovels would sweetly build castles as the girls giggled and played...in one spot...with absolutely no...flying balls of sand.   
     Even in school, our kindergarten has an 'insect day' every year.  We've been spidered and bugged out with cool and creepy things for the boys.  The kids are allowed to dress up and the whole day is devoted to the most "AWESOME" and crawliest bugs you could imagine.  Year after year, I watched cute lady bugs with delicate wings fly about while girls held hands and danced.
     This year will be different though.  We finally have a little girl and even though she's more prone to chase after her brothers throwing sand balls right with them, this year, we'll have a butterfly.  
     Today I found the cutest little wings and outfit for her to wear and can't wait for "insect day" to arrive.  Sparkly glitter will be from head to toe as she flutters around the house for school.  Tomorrow is the big 'buggy' day and I'll post a picture for sure.  
      Even though there's nothing quite as wonderful as having a house full of energetic boys with basketballs and frogs around, it sure is nice to get to share the love and happiness of butterfly sparkly hugs and kisses every once in awhile too.  (ribbit) 
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    Thank You for your well wishes and kind words for dad.  Your thoughtfulness truly meant more to him than you'll ever know!  You're the Best!  Thank You again!!!  Love to You - XOXO
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    Seventy years ago on this very day, a young mother was living in California.  Her husband was in the Navy and off to war, so she drove herself to the hospital, once she went into labor.
     Upon arriving in the emergency parking lot, she had a contraction and crashed into another car.  Needless to say Dad, you literally came in with a bang.
     Since that exciting entrance into this world, you've been the greatest example of how to live your life with humor, love and integrity.
     You've taught me the importance of treating others with respect and compassion, and to cherish those who do the same in return. 
     You've raised me to be independent which is so important for a daughter to learn.  You've never wanted me to need anyone, but instead, taught me to take care of myself...get an education, a good job, pay my own bills and not to act like a princess...while still finding a man who would treat me like one. 
     You've been the greatest example of the importance of having a strong faith, a good family and the best of friends in this life.
     The seventy years you've been on this earth have been nothing less than wonderful, but among the countless number of things you've accomplished, you've been only one thing to me...the best dad I could ever hope for.
            Happy Birthday Dad. We Love You.   

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     When sitting around the dinner table, I try to remember that even if something is familiar to grown ups, it might be brand new to the kids.  I like to make things I think they would enjoy, but sometimes need to remember that their minds are different and inexperienced when it comes to trying new foods.  
     This is about the time I get a good laugh at remembering things I thought I hated when I tried them, then learned to love.  Take...shrimp for example...
     The first time I remember seeing shrimp, we were at a restaurant.  My brother and I were playing with our food when he told me to eat one.  It was a peel and eat shrimp, but he conveniently forgot to mention the 'peel' part.  It looked strange, but he said it was good (like any big brother would do).
     Asking if I was supposed to eat the whole thing, he just laughed and shook his head yes.
     That was my first taste of shrimp...tail and all.  You can imagine my disgust. 
     Then there's the time I had wasabi.  What's wasabi you might ask?  It's kind of like eating something from the depths of hell, in a nice shade of light green.  I'm not exactly sure what it's even made from, but even the tiniest amount, could clear your sinuses for up to a week.
     Wasabi is very common with sushi.  There's another food altogether, but that's a different story.
     I was working as a therapist in a hospital back in the 90's when my boss wanted me to get trained in a specialized field.  I was flown to Connecticut for a few days, when a night or two into it, some of the staff I had met, wanted to go to a Japanese restaurant. 
     It was the real deal.  Shoes off, sitting on the floor with a menu I couldn't begin to understand.  I was young and nervous, having no idea what to do.  A nice girl helped me order and to this day, I don't know what I had.  It was good, but the only thing I thought I recognized was the quarter sized blob of guacamole in the middle of a pretty plate.  Not realizing they served guacamole in Japanese restaurants, it was the first thing I went for.  The whole amount, all at once.
     In less than a second, the lining of my nasal cavity began to peel.  My eyes literally bulged out of my skull as tears began to pour from my face.  Trying to act cool like I knew what I was doing, it was useless.  The girl beside me asked if I was okay, but I couldn't speak.  I could only nod my head and wonder if a trip to the ER was in order.  
     I survived, obviously, but it taught me a good lesson.  Trying new things can be good, but it can also be very, very bad.
     I keep this in mind when I have the kids try new things, albeit I'll never force shrimp shells or green fire paste on them.  At times it may feel all the same to them however, and it's always good for me to remember how that feels.  Sushi, anyone?         

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     I should start by saying that I work in the medical field...and I still avoid doctors like the plague.  (No pun intended.)
     Of course I do the dutiful thing of keeping my annual check-ups as everyone should - and if I really feel there's something wrong, I'll head for the waiting room.  Too many times though, I've had less than pleasant experiences. 
     Take for instance, the time I felt just awful.  I finally decided to cry 'Uncle' and researched the best doctors in the area.  Being new to North Carolina, I felt optimistic in my selection.  
     After around an hour of sitting in the waiting room, I was beyond ready to get through the appointment when they finally called my name.  
      Going back, I sat for another length of time before an older man finally came through the door, looking at my chart and flipping through some pages.  No eye contact, no greeting...just a simple..."What seems to be the problem" as he shuffled through some more.
      "Well, I don't know really.  I just feel...off...I guess."
      "What do you mean, off?"
      "Tired, sluggish, worn down.  Just off."
      Lifting his eyes over the rim of his glasses, he said this...(I'm not even kidding).
      "We don't have a medical term for "off".  You're going to have to be a little more specific."
      Raising my brow, I didn't know whether to stay or get up and leave.  I decided to try and explain, "Sometimes my side hurts but it's not constant.  We just had our third son so it's hard to tell since I'm with the kids and the baby nonstop." 
       Closing his folder, he simply stated, "Well, there's your problem.  You just had a baby and you're chasing two boys around.  You're just tired.  Go home and take a nap."
       Turning to leave, he scribbled something on my chart and headed for the door.  I remained sitting, speechless.
       A few days after that, the little voice inside my head continued to nag at me to find someone else.  I located a female physician from a different practice and hesitantly made an appointment.
      When she walked into the room, she smiled, extended her hand and introduced herself.  Sitting across from me, she listened to my concerns, did a full check up and sent me to get some labs and an ultrasound of my side.
     Within no time, I had a call to see a surgeon.
     great.
     The following day after the visit to the surgeon's office, I was in for surgery to remove my gallbladder.  The surgeon said that in all his years, he hadn't seen one so filled with gall stones.  So much so, that gangrene had set in and it was ready to rupture, literally at anytime. 
     I hadn't felt so good in years once he removed it.  Even better than my nap.
     Currently, my dad is having lower back pain.  It hit him out of nowhere and it's so bad that he can't walk.  Mom took him to the ER where they said they could find nothing wrong.  She took him to a doctor who had an x-ray done and the radiologist said, there was nothing he could do but to come back in a week if it still hurt.
     Getting tired of the runaround, guess who I had mom take my dad to see yesterday?  Yep.  In one appointment, dad said that the doctor listened to him, respected his pain level and did everything she could to help.  Dad's seeing a neurosurgeon this Tuesday to determine the next course of action and we're praying everything will be okay. 
     I understand how busy doctors are and how much they have to do in such little time.  What I wish they understood though, is how important it is to listen not only to what they've learned in medical school and their journals, but also to their patients.  Look into people's eyes and faces.  Read more than their charts and truly hear what they have to say.
     When you get a doctor who won't do that, what's even more important, is to listen to yourself and hear what that tiny voice tells you inside.  You'd be surprised how right it usually is. 
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     When recently talking with a friend of mine named Jenn, we fell into the discussion of how many children seemed to be 'right'.  This is kind of a loaded question.  
      You see, Jenn has one little boy but says that even though she's perfectly content with her family, many times people make her feel as though it isn't enough.  Like her family isn't complete with just one child.  
      I have another friend who has no children and is totally happy.  What's hard is when people tend to give her vibes of wishing she had children.  
      Even people with more than one child aren't immune to the comments or assumptions.  Just the other day at the grocery store I heard, "Are those all yours?" and "Couldn't figure out how they came about huh?  Are you done or still going for more?"  One of my girlfriends just had her fourth boy and actually heard, "Ohhhh...no.  You just can't get that girl, can you?"
     Really?
     The bottom line is, whatever YOU'RE happy with...and whatever makes you feel content...is what's right for you.  There are women who love having all boys, having all girls or a combination of both, and women who don't want to have kids.  That's just it, having no kids, one child, two, five, etc. - it's not up to others to make you feel one way or another, that's your decision. 
     To Jenn and all the other girls out there, don't listen to others, listen to your heart.
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     I'm pretty close to saying that I witnessed a small miracle tonight.  The house...was quiet.  No screaming, fighting, yelling, pushing, pulling, hitting...just...peace and harmony.  Want to know why?  Because of dinner.
     When you're feeding a family of six, it sometimes takes an act of God just to find something everyone likes.  The kids are six, seven, ten and eleven years old, so they'd pretty much eat chicken nuggets or pickles every night if you'd let them.  As fun as that might seem, I try to make meals that appease the little ones, as well as we grown ups.  This one did the trick. 
     You can scroll down for the recipe if you'd like.  It's for an awesome baked ziti that's easy to make, but oh so good.  The kids thought it was fun because they got to eat 'tubes' for dinner.  Adam and I thought it was fun because we could actually hear crickets as they gobbled it down.  
     It's not often when our home is peaceful and quiet, but when it is, Mama Mia.
                    Ingredients:
1 Pound Italian Sausage
1 Pound ground beef
4 Garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 Onion, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon dried Italian Seasoning
1 cup beef stock
2 large cans (28-32 oz) of Italian tomatoes
1 large can (28-32 oz) of tomato puree or tomato sauce
1 pound ziti or penne pasta
2 cups fresh ricotta cheese
1 cup parmesan cheese, divided
1 egg
1 pound mozzarella cheese, grated
Few fresh basil leaves or basil paste
     Begin by browning the sausage and beef in a large pot over medium - high heat.  (Slightly lower temperature if needed.)
     Add garlic, onions, red pepper flakes, salt/pepper and Italian seasoning and continue on med-high heat until onions soften.  (about 5-8 minutes)
     Add beef stock, tomatoes and sauce/puree and break the tomatoes up while they cook.  
     Bring the whole pot to a slight boil then reduce the heat to a low simmer.  Add chopped basil leaves or paste, then simmer for 30 minutes.
     Fill another pot with water (add salt if desired), bring to a boil.  Add pasta and cook according to box, usually around 10 minutes.
     Meanwhile, mix ricotta cheese with 1/2 cup of parmesan cheese, 1/2 cup of grated mozzarella and egg.
     Drain pasta and add to meat/sauce mixture.  Stir pasta until blended into sauce.
     Pre heat oven to 375*
     Carefully add ricotta cheese mixture into pasta/sauce and fold gently until cheese is incorporated throughout.  
     Pour mix of pasta/sauce/cheese into casserole dish (I used a big one and still had enough to fill another medium dish).
     Top whole casserole dish with grated mozzarella cheese.  Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes covered, then an additional 5-10 uncovered.
     Enjoy!   

    I would've taken a picture to show you if I'd known it was so good, but it was destroyed in like, two seconds.  Hope it's a hit in your house too!
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    This is the year I had to renew my driver's license.  Fun, I know.  
     At this age though, it's more of an inconvenience than anything else.  Standing in line, waiting your turn...it never fails that you just happen to pick the "busiest day of the week" to sign in.
     This time was different though.  There really weren't a lot of people in front of me and my wait was fairly short.  Things were going great...or so I thought.
     Taking my seat, the person across the table was pleasant and professional.  "Good afternoon Ma'am."
       "Hi, how are you?"
       "Fine, thank you.  Let's go ahead and get started."
       Genuinely thinking that all I had to do was turn in my old license, pay the 32 dollars and get my picture taken, I was more preoccupied with having a bad hair day for the photo, than anything else.  
      "Do you wear contacts or glasses Ma'am?"
      "No."
      "Okay, then go ahead and place your forehead against the bar and look into viewer."
      Leaning forward, I looked into what felt like the old "View-Master" I had as a kid, then got a little nervous when a light came on, showing a whole page of different things.
       "Please say the first line Ma'am."
       (Okay, I've got this.)  
       Peering through to letters that were smaller than little ants, I verbally stated each one as quickly as I could.  Looking below them, I noticed a whole page of street signs and suddenly, a pit began to grow in my stomach. 
      Pulling my forehead away, I smiled and said, "Okay thanks!  Am I all set?"
      Looking confused, the person nodded towards the View-Master.  "Go ahead and continue Ma'am."
       "Continue?"
       "Yes, Ma'am.  Continue.  There's a whole page of signs you need to complete."
       Oh no.
       "Ummmmm, but...I didn't realize there was a test.  I thought for just a renewal, all I had to do was pay and get one made."
      "Sorry Ma'am.  I'm sure you'll do fine.  Please state the signs now." 
      My hands were sweaty, my throat dry.  I wanted nothing more than to back away from the table.  I began having flashbacks to my 16th birthday, when my dad took me to take my very first driver's test.  There was a man assigned to me that held his clipboard with all dear life against his chest as he got in the car...as if he knew.  
      I began to drive.  Were my hands supposed to be at 3 and 9?  2 and 10?  Everything was running together, when out of nowhere, a man on a bicycle pulled out in front of me.  I panicked, wondering if I should go around him, drive ridiculously slow the whole time and stay behind him or stop altogether.  Every second of the test seemed like an eternity.  
     What was worse, was the parallel parking.  I don't know if they even do that anymore, but back in the day, they put five cones out that you had to maneuver throughout without knocking over.  I pulled forward between them, shifted around them and knew there was no way to get out of them without hitting one...or three.  The only person more surprised than I was when I backed out was the man beside me, when all five cones were still standing.  Looking over, I saw my dad in the parking lot with his jaw dropped and eyes as big as golf balls.  
     "Did I pass?"  I choked out to the poor man.
     "I don't know."  He muttered.  "In all my years, I've never seen anyone do that, so I don't really know what to say.  Technically, all five cones are standing, so I suppose...yes?" 
     I screamed and gave him a hug, then ran out and hugged my dad.  
     Even though that was a long time ago, the memories flooded immediately back, reminding me of how much I hated driver's tests and everything about them.
     Pushing my forehead against the bar again, there were about 13 different signs.  I pumped myself up, thinking it couldn't be that hard.  There was only one problem...some of the signs had NOTHING on them.  I mean like, nothing.  Just a shape.  
     Sure, a yield sign is easy, or a "No U-Turn" when it's written right there to read, but what about these? 

      I couldn't think and everything got worse and worse as I began to panic.
      "I don't know!  There's a circle, a pendant, a house and a rectangle..."
      "Excuse me Ma'am?"  The person across the table was noticeably confused.  
      "I don't know what they are!  The others I can get because they have words or pictures.  These are blank though."
      "Take your time and think about it Ma'am.  What sign is shaped like a circle?"
      "A railroad crossing, but..."
      "It's as easy as that."
      "Okay, then there's a house over there..."
      "A house, Ma'am?"
      "Oh, sorry, yeah.  The one looks like a house."
      "Who lives in a house Ma'am?"
      "A family.  Kids...SCHOOL!  It's a school sign!"
      Even though I couldn't see it, I knew the person was smacking their head.  
      I eventually made it through, miserably hating every minute of it...but made it nonetheless.
      Frazzled, I moved to the next station to get my picture taken which I'm sure will be hideous, then completed the last of the paperwork before I could go.  
       They said my new license would be mailed to me sometime soon, but I'm not looking forward to getting it.  I'm glad it's over though and next time around I'll know to study, even though it's only a renewal.  You can bet your boots the next time around, I'll know my signs.  Especially the circles, houses and squares. 
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