be the bird

This is why I never get anything done.

My heart was full – to the brim – with good intentions. I was gonna sit down and pay my bills. NOW. No more procrastinating.

Check list. Computer, stack of bills, pen, jacket because I was chilly, let the dogs out on the deck, music on, leftover coffee warmed up, porch windows open, cell phone (texting my kids), new pen (out of ink)… check, check, check

Hmmm. I’m out of my “bill payment sheets”. No problem; just need to run a few copies, so this isn’t an excuse to procrastinate next month. Ya. Right. What is a “bill payment sheet”, you’re wondering…? Well, short story – my organized alter ego coming through. A little Excel thingie I created years ago that I fill in each month with each payee and the amounts, dates, confirmation numbers… I love charts and graphs and columns. You see, in my mind I am a very organized person. Somewhere in the follow ,through, is where it seems to fall apart.

So off I go into the hubbies office where we have our printer. This stupid machine seems to take forever to warm up. I decide to spend my waiting time getting a closer look at our bird families that are currently renting space on our front porch. So off I go in search of binoculars. Surprisingly, this proves to be a rather simple step. For some reason, they are exactly where they are supposed to be. Weird.

What happened next was quite unexpected. Above the right column was our mama dove. She is a regular. Must have about 100 babies by now. Poor exhausted thing. As I focus in on the nest I see little pieces of my front porch planter, woven throughout… You’re welcome, Mama Dove. Just help yourself. “A mamas gotta do what a mamas gotta do.” (Feel free to quote me) As I divert my gaze over to the left and focus in on the second column, I see the other mama bird. But she is not a dove. She is a little sparrow…? I guess. I dunno. She is tiny, and definitely not a dove. I think she is a sparrow. Whatever. Here’s the point of the story.

It was at that very moment that I envisioned world peace.

Here were these two mama birds, living side by side, coexisting peacefully. They were not the least bit concerned that they were different colors, or had different markings. One was 2-3 times the size of the other. No worries. Their voices; their songs – so very different. Not a bother. No judgement. No prejudice. They were simply and respectfully doing what God had asked them to do with their lives. So the “take away”? I dunno. Maybe “Be the bird”. Ya. I know. I hear your thoughts. It’s simplistic and ~~a bit~~ naïve, I admit -But, OH, what a beautiful thought…

The printer is screeching and spurting ugly sounds, catapulting me back to the here and now. The printer is warmed and ready for action. I, reluctantly, set down the binoculars and move forward. I simply must stop procrastinating and pay these stupid bills. But first… I need to take this jacket off because I’m sweating, let the dogs in and close the porch windows because it looks like rain, re-warm my coffee that’s now stone cold – Oh, and lookie – a text from the kids…

“Be the bird”

live happy… cathy

sleepless in kansas city…

3 / 9 / 15

Just over two hours. That’s how much sleep I got last night. I could blame daylight savings time, or the one cup of (caffeinated) coffee at 10:00 AM yesterday morning… but I think not. I was in full blown “mommy mode” last night. My brain was on total overload, and there was no “shuttin her down“…

My kids are almost 25. Adults. I get it. Kinda…

My daughter left town yesterday for business. Alone. Had to catch a plane, and then another plane, get a rental car and drive two hours to a place where she has never been. A long day for her, an unsettling feeling for mama bear. She came over for dinner one night last week, and we figured out that because of travel conflicts, we will not see her for several WEEKS, even though she only lives about 25 minutes away. Gosh. I miss her already…

My son moved to Dallas last fall and started into a crazy busy phase at work after the first of the year. Long, long, LONG hours… seven days/week. Ugh!! After a quick text back and forth with “Dad” last night (sports talk), he told his dad that he was gonna try to hit the sack… “not feeling the greatest“. The nonstop stress on his body was trying to catch up with him. “Tell Mom I love her…” I’m sad. He needs Mom’s homemade chicken soup…

And then there is my cousin’s daughter’s daughter (pictured above). Eleven years old. In heart surgery RIGHT NOW. My dad’s side of our family has a history of various “heart issues”. I am posting this today for two reasons… One is prayers. Starting right now (PLEASE!), for her successful surgery; and going forward, for her recovery. Secondly, I am attaching her mom’s facebook post from a month or so ago, in hopes that it might make a difference, maybe even save a life. Please feel free to share the following information, as I have not included any names.

“Warning: Longest post ever, please read. I usually never get very personal on here or do I ask for many favors but today I am doing both. We just recently found out that **** has an anomalous right coronary artery. What that means is the her right coronary artery is next to the left one. In order to be there it has to lay between her aorta and pulmonary artery. This is bad because during physical activity as those vessels fill up with blood her coronary artery can become compressed and shut off blood supply to her heart. This is one of the few things that cause sudden death in kids as they are playing sports. Because of this diagnosis we were faced with decision. We could choose not to do surgery but **** would not be able to engage in any physical activity for the rest of her life and probably have to take meds or do open heart surgery and make the opening bigger so the artery doesn’t become pinched. Neither option is good but after a discussion with the cardiologist and ****, we decided on surgery. While her chance of sudden death with the defect is low she is still at increased risk and a life of no physical activity for an 11 year old didn’t really seem feasible. The thought of surgery is scary as well. We are all very worried but thinking about what is going through ****’s head is extremely hard.
So here is where the favors come in. Yes, I have several favors. First, we are asking for prayers. Prayers and good thoughts for a successful surgery with a speedy and hopefully easy recovery. We are to expect 1-2 week hospital stay, 3-4 weeks off school and 6 months no activity. Those first few weeks will be rough and could use all the prayers we could get. Second, I recommend having your kids checked. This can be found with an ECHO which is basically an ultrasound of the heart. It doesn’t hurt. ****actually had an ECHO in 2011 and was told all okay but recently found out that the artery wasn’t easily visualized so I would specifically ask to have that checked. Most of those sudden death cases of kids on the football field, basketball court etc…could be prevented. Third, We are trying to come up with ideas to help make ****’s recovery easier. Special things that we could for her. We have a few but not sure if they will work so please message me if you can think of anything. We don’t have the surgery date scheduled yet but hoping for early March so she will be in the clear for the next school year. Besides that we Just want to get it over with as it is consuming all our thoughts. Thanks in advance for the prayers and positive thoughts we appreciate it.”

In the next couple of days, I will post a blog on what I have been up to lately. As for today, just one very simple, but powerful, request. Your prayers…

thank you xo

their chapter…

2 / 2 / 15

pruett candle Yesterday I wrote of “chapters“; my word for 2015. This morning I awakened with a sense of the real impact of such a word. You see, today marks the closing of a very painful chapter for some dear friends of ours. Exactly one year has passed since they lost a beloved husband and dad. Today we remember Dan.

As their friends, we exist only on the outside of their incredible pain. In reality, we are rendered utterly helpless in their grief. What can we do? What can we say? At the very core, the truth is painfully simple really. Nothing. Their hearts have but one wish; and, sadly, we cannot bring him back.

So we simply do what we can. And it all starts with love. First and foremost, We love them… Quietly. Every day. Secondly, we honor their family’s long and painful journey by loving those around us with that very same all encompassing love. Quietly. Every day.

We cry with them… we cry for them. Just this morning I stumbled across this beautiful song that someone had selected for their mom’s funeral. It’s beautiful. And yes. I cried. You will too… Jealous of the Angels (Jenn Bostic)

It’s morning, February 2, 2015… the world still dark and silent. I lit a candle and said a quiet prayer. Tonight, in a community prayer service, we will gather once again; just as we did every single week in the months before Dan’s passing. In those days and weeks we prayed for Dan’s healing. But tonight we will pray, along with Dan in heaven, for his family’s healing.

One year later. Their journey; their chapter…

children are like kites

4 / 21 / 14

Morning came early today. And it’s Monday. Not just any Monday, though. It’s the first Monday of (yet another) brand new chapter in my life. I’m not even sure what to call this chapter just yet. And I’m not really sure how I feel about it either. Love it? Hate it? At the end of the day, probably a mixture of both.

My daughter left this morning on an early flight to the east coast. For business. After four weeks of training, this is her first official business trip. Of many! Wow. My arm felt like lead as I tried to wave goodbye. Her tail lights burned through the darkness, and then disappeared. Turning to come back inside, I saw “it”. THE poem. It has been on our refrigerator for a hundred years (give or take). I have shared this poem with many over the years. Mostly requested by other moms. When we got a new refrigerator we moved the old refrigerator out to the garage. The poem stayed intact. It’s funny though. I am in and out of the garage a million times a day, but never really “see” the poem. It’s just there as part of the refrigerator, I guess. But not this morning. No. This morning it was different. It was as if “THE poem” was covered in flashing neon lights, bells a’ringin… I stopped dead in my tracks to read it.

The garage door slammed shut. I felt the darkness all around me. It was quiet. So very, very quiet. The hum of the refrigerator seemed almost deafening. She is officially all grown up. Out the door and off to new adventures, challenges, experiences. It’s a solo flight for her; realistically and figuratively. Flights, rental cars, hotels… The real world; the unknown. Is she ready for everything? Definitely. She is a strong, smart, confident young woman who can handle anything. To say that I am proud – Well, that barely even scratches the surface of how I feel. Yes. I am VERY, VERY PROUD…!! But I am also a little sad. For me, not her. I am just not very good at this whole “letting go” thing. At all.

But… her time has come. “Time to soar, as she was meant to soar, free and ALONE. My job is done.”

“Children Are Like Kites”

“I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground.
You run with them until you’re both breathless.
They crash.
They hit the rooftop.
You patch and comfort. You adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they will fly.
Finally they are airborne…
They need more string and you keep letting it out.
But with each twist of the ball of twine,
there is a sadness that goes with the joy.
The kite becomes more distant,
and you know it won’t be long before that string will snap and the lifeline that holds you two together will no longer be the same.
A child, as a kite, must be prepared to soar, as they were meant to soar, free and alone, to the greatest extent possible.
And only then can we collectively say that we have done our job.”

– Author unknown

love; not hate

4 / 14 / 14

kindness matters — Artwork by Beth Nadler Click here to see all of her beautiful artwork on Etsy!!

When my kids were little, I always told them that they were not allowed to “hate” people. You could hate an inanimate object; a “thing”, but never a person. You might hate what they said or what they did, but you could not hate them. My beliefs have not changed.

Yesterday presented a real challenge to upholding those beliefs, however. About a mile from where I was standing yesterday afternoon, three completely innocent people were shot and killed for one reason. The shooter thought they were Jewish. That’s it. He didn’t know them. He didn’t know their families. He didn’t care. Tragically, he was just that full of hate. Kansas City suffered a tremendous loss yesterday. A young man (HS freshman) an Eagle Scout, with a love for theater and a beautiful singing voice; his whole life ahead of him. His loving grandfather, “a devoted family man”, married 49 years, who moved here to be closer to his grandchildren. A wife and mother, described as a “deeply caring individual”, who was an occupational therapist at the Children’s Center for the Visually Impaired. So much pain. Please join me in prayer for these hurting families…

We live in a world of differences that are meant to be CELEBRATED, not stereotyped. Our uniqueness makes us special. As for my husband and I; our extended family of siblings, their spouses, nieces and nephews, provides it’s very own “special blend of uniqueness“… We are Christian; we are Jewish; we are Mormon. We are African-American; we are Caucasian. We are Filipino; we are Panamanian. We are gay; we are straight. We are able-bodied; we have Down Syndrome. We. Are. FAMILY.

In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, a man who understood hate, but instead chose love. And peace. “Let no man pull you so low as to hate him.” I absolutely hate what this shooter did. I hate that he took the life of three beautiful, innocent people. I have zero tolerance for ANYONE who thinks they are superior to anyone else. But to hate him will just perpetuate this evil cycle of hate. I do not want to spend time and energy dwelling on this evil man. Let us, instead, go forward – with the words of Dr. King in our hearts… “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

So get out there and LOVE . Spread kindness far and wide. You CAN make a difference. We ALL can. But will you? Every loving gesture to someone in need, every kind word to a friend, every act of kindness to a stranger… It. All. Matters.

So what will YOU do to leave your (kindness) mark TODAY…?

gone; but not forgotten

4 / 4 / 14

I have never been the guest on a talk show. Or a cooking show. Or Good Morning America. If I were, however, and they were to ask me this question…”Of anyone who has ever lived on this earth; who are the top five people you would most like to meet…?” What would be my response?

Well, I’m not sure of all five. Need to do a little more thinkin’. One of them, however, would be Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. A brave, brave man who preached against violence as a solution to ANYTHING.

A man of faith, great wisdom, peace, strong morals, conviction, and love. Wow. I feel like he could make such a difference in our world today.

He is no longer here; but we are. His legacy lives on through his teachings; the words he left behind. Our job is to love each other; as brothers and sisters. Today. And all of our tomorrows.

April 4, 1968. I was only six years old when Dr. King lost his life. Today, on the anniversary of his untimely passing, I share a few of my favorite quotes…

Thank you, Dr. King.

a life to live over…

9 / 11 / 13

So we are two days into our kitchen remodel (Yes. Will definitely blog about it!!) So I’m kinda, sorta stuck at home for the most part. Let me just say that this really makes it kind of difficult to procrastinate about this cleaning, clearing and purging “cycle” that I am in. I said difficult. Not impossible.

Today I found a (huge) stack of inspirational articles that I have collected throughout the years from emails, the newspaper, friends… I found it to be pretty much like going through a box of pictures. You know… Two hours go by, and you are all emotional entangled in a trip down memory lane – Yet, remarkably, the pile is still huge.

With today being the anniversary of 9/11 – we all awakened this morning with a heightened sense of “life”. And family. And loved ones. And those we have lost… A reminder about living in the moment, because today is a gift. With that in my heart, I stumbled across a poem that came via email many, many moons ago. I cannot tell you the source, or even who sent it to me. What I can tell you, however, is that it was written by someone that I would have LOVED to meet; someone who has always made me laugh… Erma Bombeck. I felt that sharing her wisdom and insight was a beautiful way to give meaning to a most difficult day… Thank you, Erma xo

If I Had My Life to Live Over (by Erma Bombeck)

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the “GOOD” living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”

There would have been more “I love you’s” and more “I’m sorry’s”

….but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute…..look at it and really see it … live it … and never give it back.

wedded bliss

9 / 9 / 13

Had to tell a little lie the other day… but I can explain. You see, my wonderful mom-in-law and dad-in-law were celebrating 55 years of wedded bliss, so we decided to have a little surprise dinner at our house in their honor. Not a major event, just a small gathering of family to help them celebrate. In the end, I think there were almost twenty of us gathered together, and it was an evening full of laughter, love and a lot of wine!

Now everyone has their secret tips for making events, like this, successful… and I would love to know your secrets!! Here are just a couple of mine. #1 Delegate! Let everyone contribute. For those who don’t like to cook; no problem. Assign them a store bought item or wine! #2 Not everything has to be homemade! If you are a baker and love to make desserts; Go for it – But then purchase a store bought appetizer! #3 Prioritize and keep it simple! This is a big one, and totally varies from person to person!! Personally, I love the detail stuff – “themes” and table decorations, homemade tags on the dipping oil… But to take the time to dust before the party…? Ya – Probably not gonna happen. Like I said; this is an individual thing. Everyone has a different set of priorities. Maybe dusting is your #1 priority!! Just make sure that you make time to do the things that are important to you!!

We went with an Italian bistro theme… complete with a little Frank Sinatra (of course!), red & white checked paper placemats (super easy clean up!) and some Chianti wine! An Italian platter as an appetizer also made it super simple (no cooking!) – cheese, salami, Rosemary almonds, stuffed olives, crostini with goat cheese and bruschetta… Our main course consisted of home-made lasagna, meatballs, oven roasted Italian green beans, Italian salad and warm, crusty bread with homemade Italian dipping oil. (Dipping oil recipe was posted on my Facebook page; “Tasty Tuesday” Sept 3 – Click here) For dessert we served Italian gelato with homemade biscotti, which I served in assorted hand-painted martini glasses (Biscotti recipe coming… tomorrow!!) And that, friends, is my final “tip of the day” – fun and super simple… I love using martini glasses for serving dessert! I especially love that everyone’s glass was different (I did this on purpose – Not a matchy-matchy kinda gal!), but you can certainly use whatever martini glasses you have on hand!! I have a huge advantage in the fact that I paint and sell cocktail glasses, so my “inventory” is probably a bit more extensive… Ha!

So there we go. My suggestions, in a nutshell, for hosting a little gathering of your own. I realize now that I already gave you my “final tip”, but I just thought of one more… and it’s a BIGGIE, actually! Chances are good that you will not complete your “things to do before the party” list. Just sayin. However, once the party starts… let it go. Pour a glass of wine and join in the fun. Whatever didn’t get done isn’t gonna get done… so never mind. If you are having a good time at your party, so will your friends!! And at the end of the day, isn’t that all that really matters…? Bon Appetit!!

time marches on…

7 / 15 / 13

Lauren & Kyle highchairs

OK – So I’m still supposed to be on my “summer sabbatical” from all social media. But I’m kinda sad today… and I just needed to tell someone. So I’ll make it quick. Then it doesn’t really count…?

After a restless night’s sleep, I awakened with this gnawing, empty feeling way down in my gut that only a mom would know. It was that helpless feeling of time marching on; whether you agreed to be part of the band… or not. You see, my babies turned 23 today. Without me. Yep – The very first time that they have been away from us on their birthday. Now before you start telling me all of that logical, “after all, they are ADULTS now“, baloney, let me just say right up front that I get all that. I, honestly, could not be more proud of the adult children that we have raised. We feel that we have been mightily blessed and thank God for them each and every day. xo

But moms ~~want~~ need to feel needed sometimes… Ok, maybe all the time? I dunno. It varies. My sister and I were talking on the phone last night about this very thing. We complain about having to drive them all around town when they are little… here, there and everywhere. Some days are endless. Then they go off and get their driver’s license. That’s great news, right? Sure it is. Until that moment when you wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat realizing that they don’t need you to drive them anywhere… anymore. Time marches on. Your job there is done.

You see, the heart is not the brain. These two body parts operate quite independently of one another. There is logic, and then there is love. In my logical brain, I am so happy for them today. They are with each other, and they are with good friends. Everything is exactly the way it should be; and this is good. Time marches on.

But deep in my soul, they will always be my babies… and today, selfishly, my heart aches like crazy.

live happy ~ Cathy

that’s my mama

5 / 12 / 13

If I had a nickel for every time my mom said; “Oh my – You are just. like. your. father!” Now, mind you, this is usually stated in a rather loud voice, and is not to be mistaken as a compliment. At least not at the time that she is broadcasting this fact.

Research states that we have a tendency towards either left-brained or right-brained thinking. I “think” that I am, however, the exception to the rule. (And I think that I think this from my left-sided thinker. Ha! Kinda “Dr. Seuss-ish”!). I really do believe that I am pretty close to a 50/50 split. 50% left brained, like my dad. Logical, analytical, mathematical, thrifty, conservative and stubborn (Mama no like that last one…!). But… I am ALSO a right-brained thinker, like my mom. We are creative, intuitive, spiritual; possibility thinkers (dreamers) with a hint of mischief. OK. On occasion, slightly more than a hint… (Did I tell you the story about when my mom was a little girl at (Catholic) “summer camp”…? Snuck into the nuns tent when they were sleeping and hung their “double D’s” out on the clothesline for all to enjoy…)

Growing up as the oldest of seven, I was “Mama’s little helper” from day one. My “maternal instincts” developed at a very early age. Some of my brothers have been known to throw the word “bossy” around (what the heck??) when we are reminiscing about days gone by… their ~~rough~~ life growing up with two older sisters. Ya… whatever. Let me just say, in my own defense, that – to this day – I would do anything in my power to protect my sister or any of my brothers from anyone or anything. Family, ALL FAMILY, is my beginning and my end. Period.

My mom taught me SO much about life, love, happiness… Those lessons and experiences helped shape me into the woman, wife and mom that I am today. Looking back, there were so many things that I did not understand, so many unanswered questions… all crystal clear once I became a mom myself. I have to laugh now, thinking back on the days when she would declare that “for the rest of the day“, we were not allowed to use the word “Mom”. Or “Mommy”. Or anything even remotely close. Pam. We had to call her Pam. Alrighty then. Pam it is. That’s my mama.

As far back as I can remember, my mom always encouraged me to be me. I’m a little (Ha!) “out of the box” at times, but she has always supported and embraced that part of my soul, allowing me to grow into my authentic self. Truth be told, I am still growing into that “authentic self”, and she is still there supporting and encouraging me every step of the way. Yep. That’s my mama. My mom makes me laugh. A lot. Belly laughs that make you cry. My mom is funny, and I love that about her. Sometimes when you’re down and out, you just need someone to tell you to “put your big girl panties on and deal with it“. Well, friends… that’s NOT my mama. Sometimes, however, you need someone to rub your back (even if it’s long distance), tell you that it’s OK to cry and reassure you that everything is going to be OK. Even when it’s not. That’s my mama.

So today I say, thank you mom… for everything that you are; I am; we are. From now until forever, I will always be proud to say…

Yep. That’s my mama…xo

Oh… and P.S. – You still make the best “homemade, from scratch” cinnamon rolls on. the. planet. Enough said.