Want to Make an Easy $20???

Sure, she was the bad girl, but who decided to make Poison Ivy gorgeous?  There's nothing pretty about it.  I've never had it...until this week.  Oh, you want to hear about my fantastic trip to the mountains where I picked it up? I wish I could because at least I could say it was worth it. Unfortunately, it's second hand from my son who got it from none other than (brace yourself) a movie theater chair arm. Not only did I get to spend outrageous prices, but we brought home souvenirs!!  Gross.  I think I'm now going to become one of 'those' people who brings wipes in my purse for outings such as this.  I used to make fun of 'those' people. Now I walk among them.
Nathan's spread all over his body before we diagnosed what it was, he's at the point where we have blisters popping.  I hope you're not eating, did you know poison ivy turns to this:

He's finally on the mend, but I must have picked it up after applying multiple applications of Calamine lotion on him.  I'm about to have a breakdown here- I'm itching SO bad.  The only thing stopping me is seeing how bad it got on Nathan and not wanting to touch multiple parts of my body to look as he does,  Therefore, I'm willing to pay anyone $20.00 to come scratch the living daylights out of it. Seriously, I want you to go to town, make it bleed.  The longer the nails, the better. Takers?? Otherwise, any other solutions other than Calamine, because it doesn't seem to be making a dent.

My Personal Cape Fear

Behold: Peace and tranquility.  Seriously, what could go wrong here?  You know those people wherever they go, luck follows? I'm like them, except with bizarre craziness...it always finds me, even in my sleep I can't escape.

We spent our summer family vacation this year on the East Coast at Nags Head, North Carolina and nearly missed hurricane Arthur by a week.  Jason's parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, so the family got together and rented a beach house for 19 family members who were able to attend.  So, as you can imagine, the house was always buzzing, but with 4 levels and outdoor decks the chaos wasn't too out of control.

At night, there were bodies everywhere.  Cousins camping out on floors together, spouses in bedrooms throughout the house.  Jason and I slept in a bedroom on the base level and due to our internal clocks being on Pacific time zone, were usually the last to go to sleep so we always heard the house go quiet each night. 

Rewinding several years:  Nathan used to sleepwalk quite often.  It was always unnerving when I'd wake up in the middle of the night with a boy standing over me next to my bed.  It was like a horror movie and I never got used to it.  Once I got my wits about me, I'd gently guide him back upstairs. Those few months were some of the worst nights sleep because even if he didn't enter the room in the night, I'd dream about it because I was paranoid it was going to happen.  So, when the door opened around 2 a.m. and lights flashed on in the beach house bedroom, I had almost become accustomed to thinking we had a sleepwalker entering.  I asked Jason who it was, he said, "I think it was Dominique (my niece)."  "What did she want?"  "I don't know, maybe she was looking for the boys in the next room."  

I kept hearing movement up and down the stairs, but drifted back to sleep.   Later the lights flashed on again with the door open and someone standing in our bedroom.  I gave Jason a push to nudge him out of bed to take care of it.  Next coherent thing I remember was his voice raised, "Who are you??!"  I can tell you, my adrenaline has never pumped so hard than when I realized we not only had an intruder in the house, but that an intruder was in my bedroom. 

In Jason's defense, she did look like our niece had our niece been 45 years old with Botox and extensive face lifts.  Here was a woman standing in a itty bitty pink nightie and barefoot arguing with Jason stating this was her house and she was looking for her husband who was upstairs. This is how opposite my husband and I are;  Jason was trying to listen and rationally explain why this wasn't her house while I was in defensive protective mode without a shred of care for this woman and barked orders to Jason to "get her out of the house!" 

After he gently forced her through the door and she finally gave up the fight and walked away is when my compassionate side kicked in.  I realized, we just shoved a lady in her nightie and barefoot out the door in the middle of the night to face who knows what. Then I started second guessing myself- should I have helped her rather than be so callous?  Jason decided to call the police and they went in search for her to ensure she got where she needed to be. Turns out, she was the neighbor.  :-/  Needless to say, she didn't make an appearance at night or in the daytime the rest of the days we were there.  Upon talking to our family the next day, it was almost comical of many, being in a sleepy state the prior night, all thought it was one of the kids who came in and flipped on lights in their bedrooms.  We're so happy this woman didn't come face to face with one of the kids, yet how scary that so many slept through or didn't let it cross their mind that a stranger was in the house.  My brother-in-law carries his gun and we talked of how horribly the incident could have ended.

This woman wasn't drunk, but was almost in a drunken sleepwalk stage.  One word:  Ambien.  I've seen some of the crazy videos on youtube of Ambien users, but had yet to experience one in real life.  I read some of the side effects under 'less severe':  "Loss of ones sense of reality or identity" and "Hallucinations."  If these are low on the severity list then what's severe?  Dying? Being shot? Embarrassed for all of time? Reading the list  was enough for me to stick with the old fashioned way of counting sheep.  Unless of course I'm feeling gutsy- then instead of a Tupperware party, I'm game for an Ambien party.

How many of you have or know someone taking Ambien?  Is this rare? Bizarre stories? Anyone? 

Failure: A Pathway to Success

A few months ago I had an article posted on Heidi Powell's blog.  It was a great honor to hear positive feedback from those who struggle with this same issue.  I realize I never posted it on my own blog and wanted to do so for those who aren't connected to me via Facebook. Therefore, EVERYONE can have an opportunity to read about my inner insecurities.  Enjoy.

I’ve had a problem since my youth. I peeked at my Christmas presents because I wanted to prepare myself to be excited or disappointed. I skipped ahead in books so I could rest easy knowing whether someone lived or died. I let many relationships go because I didn’t want to end up hurt. Flying makes me uneasy because I don’t know what state the pilot or mechanics are in. I wish I could say it ends there but no, I’m Jen, and I am a classic control freak. I’m realizing through time and experience the negative effects from it and have found an emotion that has fueled this characteristic, and that is fear.

I recently started a new job, which I was excited and eager about. But once I met my counterpart (who was much more qualified), my weakness of wanting to be in control of a situation quickly stepped in to ‘save’ me. It would be easier for my ego to make the decision to quit rather than be defeated. At least I could say I controlled the outcome on my terms, rather than letting the outcome control me. No harm done…which is a lie.

Lately, I’m aware of the same characteristic in my son and I’m getting a glimpse from the outside-in of the paralyzing effects it has and the potential joyful opportunities he’s missing due to it. His piano teacher would share concern that when a new piano piece was placed in front of him, he would refuse to play it out of fear of not getting it right. I watch him at baseball games letting ball after ball go past him without a swing, later to find out he was afraid of swinging and missing, allowing the pitcher to determine his fate. He’s competitive but will pretend not to care about winning and jokes at events in the off chance he loses, and therefore refuses to put his whole heart into it.

We are like two hurdlers in a race who, rather than focus on the finish line, we focus on the hurdle and let the fear of missing the jump block us from successfully completing the race.

A life changing moment happened for me while attending a business seminar where the presenter posed the question, “What is the opposite of success?” Most, including me, answered with a resounding, “Failure.” We were quickly corrected. The answer has changed my way of thinking. In our society, we automatically link success and failure as black and white, when in reality, the opposite of success is quitting. As our goals are measured by success and we fall short, is all the work done in the process suddenly insignificant and non-beneficial to learning? Of course not. Failures are our teachers if we allow them to be. We may fail in our attempts, but success is often achieved through failures.

My name is Jen. I’m 38 years old and I’m on a quest to becoming my best. I am tired of not finishing the race because I didn’t design the track. My first step is taking my need for control and controlling how I think; knowing that what I believe is what I will become. I know I may stumble on the way, but I need to trust that the hurdles are there to strengthen me, to give more endurance, to make the finish that much more sweet. I remind myself each day that as long as I don’t give up, the equation works and I will eventually cross the finish line and achieve my goals.

We often hear that failure is not an option, but I’m finding it’s a necessity to many successes and joys in life. Quitting is not an option.

My Night With the Brits

By popular demand, I am posting my story of May 28th.

As many know, my favorite pastime is researching, downloading and listening to music.  My music library is a little out of control and I can't seem to get enough.  If someone were to ask me who my favorite is, it depends on the day, but this band is always in my top 3.
Lyrically, I am moved.  Musically, I am inspired.  Put the two together, and I need to see and hear these people who create such masterpieces live in action.
When I saw they were finally coming to the U.S. and a quick trip to L.A. away, tickets were bought the moment they went on sale.  
This is how most conversations went leading up to my trip:
Person:  Why are you going to L.A.? Me:  Going to a concert. Person:  Who ya going to go see? Me:  You don't know them. Person:  Oh, who is it? Me:  Seriously, you won't know who they are.  It's an Alt rock Indie band. Person:  I listen to that genre, really, who are they? Me: Elbow Person: Who? Me:  Elbow Person: El-bow? Me:  Uh huh. Person:  Oh, I don't know them.
And then I proceed to try and explain how great they are meanwhile, all the person is hung up on- is the name 'Elbow.'  Hence, why it's easier to say, "You don't know them."  If you were to say 'Elbow' in the U.K., guaranteed most know who this band is because, lets admit it, most of the best music originates there.

I've waited seven years to see them live, so we left Phoenix and went straight to The Wiltern in Los Angeles.  I wanted to be first in line, which would mean first inside, which meant first and front in Guy Garvey's eye view during the concert.  We got in line at 4 p.m. and doors didn't open until 8 p.m.  Before you judge, how long did you wait in a line on Black Friday??   We made friends with the people next to us (also from AZ), had some good one on one conversation, people watched (never lacking or disappointing in L.A.), and enjoyed being out of the AZ heat. When they finally opened the doors I felt like a kid at Christmas rushing down the stairs to open my first present.   When I opened that present, it was socks.
Apparently, being the first in line for general floor admission didn't mean you got the front and center next to the stage.  You got the first tier of the floor.  Next to the stage happened to be the floor pit and we still haven't quite figured out how those tickets were purchased.  Theories have been, after talking with other fans who waited hours, were 1. Reserved for the first 100 tickets sold.  or 2.  The Wiltern advertised becoming a VIP member of The Wiltern which offered more perks.  Either scenario didn't sit well.  Why?  1.  Most of those individuals in the pit were way older than us.  I find it hard to believe all of them knew how to use the internet and buy tickets in a timely fashion.  Jason went online and bought the tickets the second they went on sale. If he wasn't within the first 100, then there had to have been a pre-sale that wasn't advertised.  2.  This VIP crap ticks me off.  It's annoying to watch people walk in 5 minutes before the show and mosey on up to the very front, meanwhile I invested 4 hours on the sidewalk.  Who's the better fan?  The one who is patient and endures or the one who pays the most?  Obviously, money talks.  It's this kind of shenanigans that led Pearl Jam to boycott and eventually start what became Coachella.
Our view was still great, just not what I had wanted or expected.  We still had the front of the tier and I didn't have to worry about a 6 foot man in front of me.  
The concert was definitely not a disappointment, other than it flew by.  I was in awe. Their sound was perfection, with every instrument balanced.  It was different than any concert I've experienced.  Not only was the crowd mellow, but they actually held their applause until the last notes were finished because every second was art that you didn't want to miss.  Guy's voice is almost better live than recorded which is a rare gem to find.  One of Jason and I's favorite moments was the final song "One Day Like This" and ironically that moment wasn't because of the band.  At the end of the song, Guy turns the microphone to the audience to finish the last few lyrics and all 1,500 attendees sing in unison.  Then he asks us to sing in harmony and like a professional choir, half the crowd automatically switches to harmony.  That many voices, singing together beautifully to something those artists created, what a tribute to what they do.  

...and then things get awkward.
When the show is over, the lights come up and security starts pressuring us to exit the building.  I'm always taking it slow, hoping to get a copy of the set list or some other form of memorabilia.  
As we start slowly exiting, Jason spots a celebrity but can't think of his name.  Immediately, I notice it's Brendan Coyle a.k.a. Mr. Bates from Downton Abbey.    He's speaking with an older couple and I decide to eavesdrop and hope to possibly get a picture with him.  I pull the ol classic- jump in the lunch line stunt-which I had mastered in high school.  Just walk up, stand there like I belong, and if I'm lucky- interject in the conversation.  We all know how these things and me usually go.  (Read past experiences here).   OK, scene is set, here's the script:
Brendan: (Talking with older couple, has a blonde friend with him who ends up walking away. I gather  Brendan is a little tipsy by signs of slowed speech and back and forth swaying movements while he thinks he's standing still.)  "Hey, I want to introduce you to a friend of mine, this is Julie." (Pointing to me).
Me:  "Hey everybody, I'm not Julie...Julie went that way."
Brendan:  "Oh, who are you?" (Said in an interested way)
Me:  "I'm Jen, and I was hoping I could get a picture with you."
Brendan:  "Uh, sure.  Are you here with this guy?" (Pointing to some random dude).
Me:  "No, I'm with THAT guy." (As I point around him towards the back of the room, where Jason is ready with the camera.)
Brendan:  "Oh, he's a lucky man.  You're very beautiful . He's a handsome chap.  Here, come sit down with me for awhile."
Me:  SCREAM!!! (Inside scream, but totally cool and chill on the outside, all the while thinking, Don't screw this up, please, not this time.) 
So we sit and chat for a few.  I'm doing well. 

Innocent.  Nice.  Polite. Good conversation.
Then either the last shot of vodka kicked in or my American charm won him over and he became VERY close.

Close enough that he said he wanted to kiss me.  Uh, that's a joke right?? Isn't it usually the other way around, the fan kisses the celebrity?
He proceeds to tell Jason that he's going to kiss me and for him to get a picture.

If you look close enough, I think you can see my face muscles straining to resist his hand pulling me towards him.  And like any great husband would, instead of fighting for his woman, Jason takes pictures because he succumbed to the charm of a man with an accent telling him he was handsome.
At that moment I went blank.  I'm sure Brendan tried to get my number, stole a few strands of my hair, and had the best cheek kiss of his life, but the next thing I remembered was security giving us our last warning to exit the building.  
I've actually had a few (crazed Downton Abbey fans) say, "Jen, why didn't you kiss him??"  "You know how many girls would die to be in your shoes?"
First, what you do in a situation and what you think you would do in a situation are two different things, and more importantly, I already have my Lord of the Manor.  
If you ever have a chance to hang with some Brits, it will be the night of your life! And for the love...get to know this band:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUUASDWrBdc
Here are some pics of The Wiltern.  Fantastic historic venue.

12 Years Old and Dating...

There are several reasons why we have a rule our kids are not allowed to date until they're 16.  One of the reasons is crystal clear above... I'd actually want him to have a chance at marriage some day.  This is what you get when a 12 year old boy is out with a 12 year old girl.  Yes, this is my son out on a "date." So before you judge and ask why I've lost my standards, first it's not really a date (but it's all in the technical terms), second it was all arranged and chaperoned by his teacher, and third when you hear this story you'll understand why things are not always black and white.  A few months ago we had the missionaries over and they were discussing the importance of being a light unto the world.  They left us each with a challenge to think of how we could be a light to others and act upon those thoughts.  After they left, we each talked about what we could do individually.  Nathan immediately spoke about a girl in 7th grade at school who is extremely shy.  He said she always sits by herself at lunch and won't talk to anyone.  He said, "I want to be her friend."  So, we discussed things he could do to befriend her without being overbearing.  He started just by waving at her everyday with a smile.  At first, she  ignored him and tried not to look at him.  Soon he started sitting with her at lunch.  She never spoke to him but eventually began to look at him.  If you know Nathan, he hardly shuts up, which works great in this scenario.  He continued to ask questions, and in time she started to respond by shaking her head either 'yes' or 'no.'  Nathan would come home from school and rarely ever talk about it, so we thought things had just remained status quo or that the interchanges had stopped all together, until I received an email from his teacher, here is part of that email: "Jane (name changed) is classified by speech as a selective mute.  She won't/can't speak to hardly anyone, and that includes some family members. This impairment apparently started at the beginning of 5th grade.  Last year, I was called to come assist a teacher with a student who was in the hallway; crying, shaking and rolled up in a ball...and this is how I met Jane."
Nathan has started talking to her; asking her questions.  Jane won't verbally speak to Nathan, but has started to write her answers on the whiteboard.  This, in itself is big because in most cases Jane shuts down; she will lower her head, won't respond, sometimes trembles, if someone tries to talk to her or make eye contact. 
Nathan told me he wants to be her friend so I wrote her a note that Nathan wanted to be her friend and that Nathan and I wanted all three of us to have lunch together sometime.  I asked her if she would like to do that?  Her response to me was so funny. She wrote down..."yeah, sure... I guess."  "When?!?!?!"  Jane had the biggest smile on her face.  I can't believe that she agreed, it's also her birthday. 
 My dear friend,you, have a son who has a pure and caring heart!  I'm thankful that I get to witness how sweet his spirit is, and he lets his light shine!"

Time has passed. Nathan spends his lunches and recesses with her. His teacher set up another opportunity for the three of them to hang out.  They would go to dinner, watch a movie, and go ding dong ditching to surprise other students for Easter. Nathan has been looking forward to this 'date' for weeks. Even though we've tried to explain to him that this isn't a date, I try to imagine what I want his future dates to be like:  spending quality time together, building relationships, serving others, but most of all- helping a girl feel valued, beautiful, and see her smile. At the age of 12, he's done what I hoped he would do at the age of 16.  Jane still hasn't spoken to Nathan, and we are not expecting she ever will, but her smile and silent giggles is all he needs.  He cares about her so much and I'm grateful he has received a glimpse of  the power a little kindness can be.  I cannot express the amount of love and appreciation I have for this teacher who has gone above and beyond her job description.  This is what being a teacher is all about- making a lasting difference. This has also been a reaffirmation to me of the importance of my kids being in school.  They do face negative worldly situations, but my kids are finding as they stand strong to what they know and have been taught, they are a light to their fellow students and those students (and even teachers) are drawn to that light.   May we all let our light shine.  

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I could kiss the person who made this day a world wide sensation.  Seriously, we could be best friends.  Frankly in my opinion, practical jokes should be played more frequently than once a year, but to get a day where it is celebrated and encouraged- hats off!! I've been a prankster since the cradle.  No joke.  My mom told me how I'd cry in the middle of the night and when she'd finally walk in exhausted, I would just smile at her.  I watched The Purge (clean version) recently and contemplated how the world would be if crime and mayhem were given one day to unleash- no consequences, no questions asked. Luckily murder and mayhem are not my style, but April Fool's Day is my equivalent to the Purge.  You can't get mad at me if I fool you because it's on the calendar, it's expected, and you can't  hold me accountable for what you were unprepared for.  

You've heard my pigeon prank which I pulled on my neighbor last year, if not you can read about it here.  He tends to be an easy target.  Case in point, he leaves his car doors unlocked at night.  A) We no longer live in 1985.  B) I (Jen) am your neighbor.  This year I bought a singing birthday card and dismantled the singing piece.  So with some thread, electrical tape, scissors, the singing card piece and some help from the Mr., we rigged the brakes so each time pressure is applied while braking that stupid hamster song plays.  Don't know which one I'm talking about?  This horrific one. If he pumps his brakes enough, that hamster will be a rap star.

Neighbor's cars are always great targets.  If you'd like me to stop, then make room in your garage.  This year I made a couple bumper stickers, nothing too hilarious, but enough if you know the owners.

It's getting tougher each year to get Jason.  He is on full alert, so I'm having to turn to more subtle ways.  I did a couple small things in the house, which were actually meant for the kids but unfortunately Jason got the brunt of it.  Not that I mind.
This year, for him I thought it would be best to work through his taste buds.  This man is addicted to Jelly Belly jelly beans.  He can't help himself, he can literally eat them by the pound(s).  Imagine my delight when I found these beauties:

What's the big deal, right?  Turn the box over for brilliance:

Put a goody bag together for a sweet treat after work:

I can't wait for him to get his first taste of canned dog food and baby wipes.  But what's got me ecstatic is in knowing him, he's going to throw a whole handful in his mouth at once. The mixture of flavor is going to be stupendous!   Just remember, go big or go home go fool or get fooled!

I Don't Always Meet Celebrities...But When I Do, I End Up Looking Like a Loser

I LOVE the entertainment industry.  I love musicians, movies, television, etc. but I'm not a typical 'star struck' person. I'm too empathetic maybe.  I think, geez, they're just people, let them be so they can enjoy their dinner without getting their picture taken, signing autographs, or hear a 10 minute story about how their work has changed your Aunt's life.  Apparently though, I need to be a little more star struck because every time I meet a celebrity, it goes wrong and if anything, I probably remind them why they do what they do in order NOT to be the ordinary Joe Schmo.   Some examples of  my run-ins:  I've hit Seth Green with my stroller, I've had Paul Meany come down from the stage with his microphone to sing a song with the crowd and get right next to me (like the Bruce Springsteen/Courtney Cox video) and I briefly forgot the words, I tried telling Thomas Mars a joke that ended up reversing and made me the butt of the joke, we all know how my run-in with Henry Winkler and Daniel Silva went, and alas my most recent with Anna Kournikova.   I was invited to a Championship Tennis Tournament of some of the great pro tennis players of old (Sampras, Chang, Courier, Philippousis, etc) which occurs each year in an effort to raise money for cancer centers.  I get the VIP section due to my status of 'elected official' so I get to rub shoulders with some great people.  I was thrilled with this tournament because I was excited to meet and schmooz with Pete Sampras, my date for the night but alas, he ended up with an injured soldier and had to back out destroying all the photo op's of him kissing my hand and cheeks I had planned for the evening. The Mayor was making her rounds and had a crew with her, one of which was Anna, but unfortunately when my table full of high rollers asked who the blonde was, my response was, 'oh, that's the Mayor's daughter.'  #$&!!*&$# In my defense, she looked different in person, the Mayor does have a daughter and Anna looks like she could be hers. They approach Jason and myself and so I'm being overly casual (because I have a great relationship with the Mayor) therefore to her and Anna I'm saying things like, 'Don't you feel like you're in a wedding line with all these pictures??  Plastic permanent smiles when all you want to do is take the gifts and run!!'  I've been replaying that idiotic conversation in my head and go between cringing and chuckling. What a L-O-S-E-R!  Finally, we are formally introduced and so I do the only damage control I know how to do: pretend that I knew all along.  She was very sweet, of course lovely, and an easy conversationalist.  We talked tennis and life of being in our 30's, we both have health issues.  By the end of the conversation, she's running her fingers through my hair.  True story.  I haven't washed it since.  Ok, I waited a day. Moral of the story, if you ever want to meet a celebrity and make a good impression, don't accompany me.  I keep thinking of  all those poor people at my table who didn't take the opportunity to meet and shake hands with Miss Kournikova because they're all like, 'eh, it's just the Mayor's daughter.'

Embrace Your Inner Nag

Plain and simple-I'm the nag in the house.  Sometimes I wish I could be Jason at times. When he is with the kids it's fun time, unless you count him reiterating what I've tried to say several times prior and am at my wits end. He really is supportive and would do anything I ask--but that's usually the point, I have to ask.  He will step in because he knows when I'm frustrated and he interjects to try and save my last nerve of patience.   I know I'm not alone in this, right ladies? 
Kids get home from school and everyday I'm a broken record: Did you do your chores? All of them? Can you not see the dog doesn't have water and the pets need to be fed to stay alive? What time are you starting homework? You need to read scriptures. Did you get this other task completed that you've had on hold for a week? Isn't it time you practiced piano?--no, playing music from bands you are emulating from youtube doesn't count!
How are these questions not programmed in their cerebral? How can they not anticipate these questions from me and just put them into practice without the nag having to do it?  Is that what my role has come to? Why can't I just be the nice welcoming mom with warm baked cookies and hugs?  Oh, that's right...I'd have to nag them to pick up their crumbs.
Seriously, from 3 p.m. to bedtime I am not a mother, I am a nag...every stinking day.   I remember when the kids were small and would run to me everyday when I'd pick them up from school.  I was their hero, I could do no wrong.  Now, I'm just the task master and their eyes avoid meeting mine out of fear for an added responsibility or a question that requires action.  (**Gasp)
My heart rate is accelerating just writing this and this frustration led me to put February to the test.  I took one thing away that I was going to 'gently remind' (a.k.a. 'nag') of.  I picked piano.  Both kids have been taking piano since they were 7.  That's a lot of invested $$.  I have had numerous talks with them in the past year that if they didn't want to do piano (because of getting up every 10 min of practice time to 'see how much time they had left') to let me know and we would stop lessons.  It's not worth the money if there isn't progression-and there isn't progression without practice. They've assured me multiple times that they enjoy piano and didn't want to stop.
Without any piano promptings Nathan passed with flying colors, Brynna on the other hand didn't practice once.  Now granted, she is extremely busy and I know it's a sacrifice to fit it in her overly filled plate.  But she still managed to find time to play her guitar and sing, follow people on instagram, eat, etc.  If it's important to you-whatever it is, you make time for it.  This solidified my decision to pull the plug on piano for her.
Yesterday I had a conversation with Brynna and told her the news that today would be her last day of a piano lessons and that I had spoken with her teacher.  She stood in silence.  I knew she felt bad, I could see it on her face, but it wasn't bad enough for her to put up a fight.
This should have felt like a victory to me, due to all my feelings listed above.  Instead, I went in my closet and bawled my eyes out. Yep, it was ugly. Snotty kleenix, uncontrollable intake of breath, massive hangover headache type of crying.  All that came to my mind was memories of sitting on that piano bench with my little girl helping her or battling it out as she practiced.  Ghosts of all the beautiful piano pieces filled my mind that once filled our home with music- that even after hearing them for 100 times-gave our home a special feeling that is irreplaceable. All of a sudden, in that moment, our home felt too quiet.  I saw 8 years of built talent that will no longer be put to use on a daily basis, and thus will slowly wither away. That 5 minutes of hell in my closet was one of the few times I wished to be a hypocrite.  As parents, we said early on we would never force our kids in a sport or activity because WE wanted it.  Our desire was always for the kids to have a choice.  She made a choice and I didn't like it.  Agency can be a real bear when it isn't going your way. 
In reality, I know what the real issue is here and it's not necessarily about the piano.  My daughter is growing up and will soon be moving on.  I am overly excited to see what she will do with her life and for all the things she will accomplish.  What I'm not excited about is when those accomplishments happen-it won't be under my roof. I'll hear about it via telephone or text, but rarely in person face to face.  By knowing her piano music will stop was like a slow death to me.  A piece of her has already left home.  As I was composing myself I wondered, is this a blessing that we experience these small pieces of separation to prepare for that final one? Maybe you moms who have experienced this can help me.  What's better?  These small pieces of reality that remind you of what's to come (slow death) or having it all go in one painful moment (quick death)?  All I know is both hurt and I don't know if I'm cut out for it or that I could ever be prepared or ready enough for that moment.
I think I'd rather be a nag.

Becoming My Best

I had the privilege a year or so ago to do a favor for a friend who asked me to read a non-published manuscript and provide feedback.  The book, "Becoming Your Best: The 12 Principles to Highly Effective Leaders", is set to be released later this year and is an appendage to the Becoming Your Best company.  Little did I know how that one decision would set things in motion.  Life truly is about one choice at a time.   I'm always a little hesitant of leadership or self-help books and am very selective because of unknown authors. I have concerns like, 'Do they practice what they preach?'  'Where's the evidence I can see in their lives that this works?'  I've often heard of counselors or therapists where their lives were in shambles. This is why weight loss commercials with 'before' and 'after' pictures work on me.  I believe what you're telling me, but I still want to see proof. Later, upon learning who the author was and in researching more about him, the proof was manifest.  The author is Steven R. Shallenberger.  Not only does he have a very successful 40 year track record in his business endeavors and in working with some inspiring people like Dr.Stephen R. Covey, but also has a loving family. Our lives have been touched by some of his children and spouses and I know they were raised on these same principles which is evidenced in their lives. I was sold.   'Becoming Your Best' wasn't like some of the other books I've read in the past where I felt more weighted down and guilty of things I wasn't doing right.  This was inspirational and gave me an empowering feeling of hope that I, an average girl in the world, am capable of great things beyond my expectations.  Not only did it teach me what I need to do to become my best, but also gave me tools of how to apply those principles. Proof was manifested within the words of the manuscript by highlighting very successful people in history and influential people of today who have applied these same tools and the success that resulted from their actions. This proof gave me confidence that this is something I wanted to try and was capable of. The book focuses on 12 key principles of success. I focus on one of these 12 principles each week and use application tools given to assist in my process.  I've already noticed great improvements in my life in self confidence, how I act and react in my relationships, and feel I've increased my capabilities as a mother.   I went to a "Becoming Your Best" seminar where Rob, the CEO and presenter shared, "The difference between today and four years from now are the people you meet and the books you will read."  One choice for me, a choice to read a book has sent me on this journey, is day by day changing aspects of my life.  His statement is proof which is manifesting in me.