Purple

My 85 year old 2nd client of the day made fun of me because I had on purple shorts that matched the purple lining on my tennis shoes that also happened to match my purple water bottle. I told her she needed to stop laughing and making fun of me, because I knew she was just jealous. I also told her that making fun of the one girl holding a water bottle on this sweltering day isn't a good idea. She laughs louder and says.... "What? If I don't stop laughing are you going chase after me in your purple shoes?" 🙄🥊🏃

Carbon Monoxide and Dryer Vents - I Ain't Got Time For That

I made a new friend today. His name is Paul. Paul told me to open all my basement windows and air out my house. No joke. Dryer wasn't drying for a few days. This coil was completely compressed and our basement was filling with carbon monoxide. For real. This also means that our carbon monoxide detectors aren't working. So he removed the compressed coil, verified restored heat flow and got it ready for Josh to replace and clean. (home service diagnostic and then fix or replace) (Easy to fix by replacing the coil venting and clean out the vents)  But the thing is, Paul reassured me it is fine that the kids and I are home, that in a half hour , my house will be fine and aired out. And that new carbon monoxide detectors on every floor and in the laundry is the way to go. He didn't make it sound like I was stupid for not knowing this. He was kind, professional and extremely knowledgeable. Call Paul. He can be your friend too.

Let Me Show You

Zach came home today with so much tell say about his 5th day of 9th Grade at Chanhassen High School.  There were six sentences written, vocabulary words, work boxes, lunch and Zach got excited as he talked about DAPE. (Adaptive Physical Education for special needs students)

Zach said,  "We reached our hands up high and down to toes. We stretch and stretch and we do this...." Zach learned awkwardly against the wall and pushed and pushed. He smiled and said, "Woo. So strong!"

We love when Zach reinacts his day. I don't know what the actual movement was that he was trying to show us as he pushed so hard against the wall. I don't know if it was a stretch or a game. But I do know is that Zach was happy doing it, showing us what he did and talking about how strong he is. We praised him for his great attitude and for talking about DAPE as he often doesn't have much to say about his day.

I made dinner, we ate and I started cleaning up , preparing for tomorrow.   I started thinking about the fact that I was completely engaged with Zach even if only for a few minutes. Eye to eye , he continued to talk and show me more things. When I am busy, racing around trying to accomplish everything, I as a mother can miss out on so much. Maybe it is a sad or disappointing facial expression from my daughter. Or an extra show off moment from Zach. Tonight because I made eye contact, Zach talked LONGER, he stayed present LONGER and engaged LONGER.  My kids just need my attention. They need my love. They need my encouragement.

More of the-- You did a great job! I am so proud of you! I love talking with you! Thank you for sharing with me about your day! I love being your mom! Sign for me another song from choir . Show me your amazing artwork!

And a whole lot less of-- I don't have time. I have to make dinner. I have a deadline. I have to do the dishes and the laundry first. Let me get this done first. Can we talk about this later?

Hives Outta Nowhere

I apologize for the flurry of Gavin's leaving church today during the service. The kids and I bolted when Zach had an allergic reaction to something. No clue. He leaned into me and held his jaw in his hand and said ow ow. I looked at him and from ear to chin red on fire hives. Poor kid. The one Sunday Josh had to take my van to work, I didn't have a meds bag in his car. I only had one expired zyrtec in my purse. I got that into him asked for cortisone or hydrocortisone or benedryl. Couldn't locate any. Sweet Bailey grabbed Lily from the 4s and 5s where she was serving, and I grabbed Zach from the service and we bolted. By that time, (all of 5 minutes) he started getting more hives down his right leg near a bite he got yesterday. (maybe the bite has something to do with it.) Raced home. Filled him with liquid benedryl and anti itch cream all over his face. He wanted an ice water bottle against his face.

The immediate need for meds stems from Zach's inability to not scratch his skin. Arms, legs, face, have all been scratched open because Zach isn't able to leave irritated skin alone. When a child has autism, you want to rectify the problem and bring relief as soon as possible, because often times,  they do not totally understand what is even happening.

Zach will be fine. I will keep an eye on him and give him more meds if need be. - My Lesson Learned? Always store a med bag in both cars and check expiration dates to make sure you have the most effective meds available when something odd happens away from home. - - - Zach just said--I feel better from the itch. 💗

Update...Zach is doing great! He was so tired from the meds he laid down for a rest.  When he woke,the red was all gone and there were just raised bumps. The hives on his legs were completely gone. He was happy and said he was still tired but feeling better. He is now playing on the iPad and singing!  He even asked if we were returning to church tonight.  I told him probably,  but with a complete med bag in the glove box.

Push Ups

Sometimes, when you have a kid with speech issues and delays, words don't come easily. Zach Charades were happening today after school. He said he did a lot stretching and sit-ups. And then paused because he couldn't think of the word. He put his pretzels down, threw his knees up behind him and put his hands on the floor and proceeded to do push-ups. "I did these!" A push up? "Yes! I did push-ups!!!" He was so excited to act out the word he didn't remember and more excited that I knew what he was talking about. Amidst the garage sale chaos.

Cows and Horses Just Talking

Our family went to the Great Minnesota Get Together yesterday. Also known as the Minnesota State Fair.  Lily won tickets at the library from doing book reports for the summer reading program. It give her such a sense of satisfaction knowing that a day of family fun happened because of her hard work this summer. We left early at 6:45 am to get there for a morning show.  We were all a little sleepy, but it was totally worth it.

Lily wanted to go to the Grandstand and see the vendors. Zach wanted to ride the merry go round. And Lily and Zach both wanted to ride the world largest traveling ferris wheel. A wonder to behold if I do say so myself.  Lily enjoyed cotton candy and pronto pup and an ice cream cone. Zach devoured chicken fingers, an ice cream cone and found sprite from a fountain machine was absolutely amazing.

Both kids have always enjoyed touring the Miracle of Birth Center (baby animals born daily), The Horse Barn, The Cow Barn, and then seeing the goats, sheep, bunnies and chickens.  Yesterday, was no exception.

Zach has always loved horses and cows. And as a sweet 14 year old boy with Autism, he often wants to just look at and talk to cows and horses more so than people. We live in the country but in a neighborhood. There are 3 or 4 farms on the way to speech on Wednesdays. The sheer amazement that Zach has when  he sees the cows at each farm is absolutely fantastic. He screams, "COWS! LOOK AT THEM ALL! WHY ARE THE COWS SO CRAZY? THEY JUST ARE!!!!"  Every. Single. Time. Every time he seems them, this is what he says. As if it is the official cow greeting.

Yesterday, Zach's special greeting was needed. The cow stalls seemed to go for miles and miles. He was in cow heaven. So many cows to talk to. So many cows to greet.  And he couldn't let any of them feel left out. What an amazing interaction he had with this cow. He sat and talked to it forever. The cow never broke eye contact with Zach.

So this morning, when Zach was furiously sorting through all of his toys in two toy bins in the living room and the toy box in the basement, I knew exactly what he was looking for. Every single cow and horse that he loves.  Oh, how I love when I see the interesting configurations of each cluster. As if they are arranged for a conversation. Zach played with nothing else today except for these amazing figurines and of course he spent time drawing and coloring. Horses and Cows. At the Gavin house, we don't stop to smell the roses, we stop to talk to the cows.

The Opposite of Failure-Why I Write

I have a secret.  Well, not a secret, more so just something I don't talk much about. I am 42 years old. I have been married for 22+ years and am the mom to two pretty amazing kids.  I love being a writer. But I haven't always done much of it. I wrote short stories as a kid, often with the help of my dad. As a teen, I wrote a lot about new experiences. Space Camp, Summer Camp, Trips to Colorado and Chicago, Relationships, Heart Ache, Family Turmoil. I guess, I stopped writing anything other than poetry at the end of my senior year of high school. Poetry flowed out of me so fast and ferociously, that it actually scared me a bit.  Raw emotion found its way onto the page before I had a chance to realize what I was writing about.  But school, youth group, high school musicals, singing, relationships, and then the busyness of college made all that writing take a back burner.

I married young, worked as a Banker for years and then as a Bank Consultant and a Professional Organizer. I love being an Organizer and working in a different person's home every day. I love approaching each new task and finding a solution to the organizational woes of the American Home. But, I have only been actively writing for two years. Why? Why is it that something I love doing is something that I walked away from? Why is it that I let the busyness of life overtake me and that I let it steal what brought me joy? 

I have never been lacking in the self esteem department.  Being overly confident has often been my downfall.  I found myself struggling with jealousy.  I had two friends who were succeeding as writers and saw book after book being published.  One of my friends made an attempt at a career change from a dead end corporate job to public speaking and booked 16 gigs in the first 6 months.  And yet another friend quit her job of 21 years so that she could pursue her artistic passion and sold piece after piece.  When I sat down and poured out my heart to a dear friend about how I was feeling, watching everyone succeed around me, she said something to me that stopped me dead in my tracks. She said I wasn't a failure because I haven't yet done something amazing. Hold up. Wait a minute. Failure?  I never saw myself as a failure until she said that.  I was fully aware that she was trying to comfort and redirect me, but the self doubt set in. Was I a failure?  What have I done to make a name for myself? Is making my name known even something that I want?  Have I failed because I don't live up to everyone else's level of success? I even started to question if others viewed me as a failure or if they expected more of me at this stage in my life.

I found myself stuck in a state of discontentment, often analyzing, overthinking, brainstorming and strategizing.  I knew that many women, of a "certain age" struggled with their identity, figuring out what their role is, and how they can make changes to improve their life as they know it. I would cry talking to my husband when explaining my feelings about possibly being a failure.  He would hold me, love on me, and ask me when it was that I started letting others set the bar for me. He asked me when I started being concerned about what others thought of me. He also was very good at pointing out all that I had accomplished. My heart sang when he told me I was a great mom and wife.  He told me how proud he was of me and the fact that I had started my successful Organizing business from the ground up. He also complimented my efforts at helping others and desiring to meet the physical tangible needs of the under served local community. He told me he loved me, supported me and would help me do and accomplish anything that I set my mind to. And then, Josh Gavin, God love him said, "Stop comparing yourself to others. Stop viewing yourself as a failure because others have succeeded differently than you have." 

That was it.  There isn't a specific tool that could used to measure success.  Success is determined by the person who has set a goal or has decided to pursue a passion.  My success and the path that I chose to take would be left up to me. No one would be grading me. No one would say, you shouldn't pursue your passion anymore, it is too late. You aren't 25 years old. Your time has passed.-- And if someone was shaking their head me, or tongues began to wag, I didn't care. My age wasn't going to be a factor anymore. I have had a life well lived so far!  I had experience and wisdom!  I had more stories to tell because of the life I have lived!

I found myself researching women. Specifically woman who had succeeded later in life.  In their late 30's and beyond.  I still had my entire life ahead of me.  I made the decision right there and then.  If writing had been so important to me once, I needed to pursue it again.

Viola Davis, one of my favorite actresses, dealt with extreme poverty as a child, often not knowing where her next meal would come from.  Today, at 52, her name and talent is known worldwide.  Vera Wang didn't even entertain the idea of being a fashion designer until she was planning her own wedding at 40 years of age. Julia Child didn't even start cooking until her mid 30's. Louisa May Alcott was 37 before any publisher even considered publishing one of her books. Judi Dench earned her first Oscar at 64. Susan Boyle never even sang in public until she was 48. And Laura Ingalls Wilder didn't share her stories with the world until she was 64.

My mother passed away 4 1/2 years ago. I wanted to honor her and write down my memories, but I couldn't even pick up a pen. I often ended up in a puddle of tears and at a loss for which memories I should share first.  I am a note taker. I started keeping a small writing notebook and pen in my purse or bag about 3 years ago. Each time I thought of something that would make for an interesting story, I would write it down. Sometimes it was a sentence, sometimes it was a paragraph or random words all thrown together that only made sense to me. Sometimes it was a single word. Basement. Flowers. Wood Ticks.  His smile.  Her ability to make friends. The Christmas Tree. These words made sense to me and in the notebook they went.  By approaching my note taking this way,  those tears became fewer.  I was able to see stories taking shape, and rather than being stuck on the loss, or pain of a memory, I was excited and the stories started to write themselves. The short stories were like a weight being lifted from my shoulders.

I started writing for the local newspaper, entering poetry contests and writing mostly stories just for myself.  Almost like keeping a journal or blog, but not sharing much of it with others.  I won a couple of prizes for entries I had made and loved it.  People stopped me at the library or at Target to tell me they enjoyed reading my newspaper articles. I began to write more. Not every day, but weekly.  I realized I was creating a habit by writing more frequently. I desired to write, I wanted to write. And then I realized I had to write.  It wasn't just flowing from me once again, like the poetry had in high school, I couldn't keep the stories in me if I tried.  I found myself boring friends and family with long stories of days gone by, and each time, they said, write it down. Just write it down.

What have I been doing my whole life not writing? What made me think that I should have been doing anything else?  I now enjoy blogging, I continue writing for Southwest Media (17 small town newspapers), for Poetry and Short Story Journals and occasionally still enter a contest or two. I have been published a number of times.  I enjoy knowing that something I love doing actually means something to others.  That something I have written can and will touch hearts and change lives of people I may never meet. My idea of success was never to become famous and known around the world. My idea of success was to inspire others through telling stories that matter and make people's lives richer.

Like I mentioned. I am 42. I don't often speak of my age now that I am over 40. But now I find myself wanting to share my age with others. I want to share my story with others.  It took me 40 years to find what I should be doing. Writing fills my soul. It inspires me. It makes me want to share my joy. It enables me to share stories of my life that I think others need to hear. But mostly, it means I didn't fail. It took me 40 years, but I didn't fail. I need to remember that. Daily. When I am discouraged. When another decline email or letter is received. The realization that it took me a long time, but I am doing what I love, is of the utmost importance to me.

I haven't yet written that novel I have always said I would write. However, I am pretty sure it will happen in my next 40 years.