I didn't Get it Get it Get it Get it

Looking back, it seems as though we had all the time in the world during That Summer. And, really, we didn't. But our schedules allowed us to fit in Friends reruns, Golden Girls reruns, Dave and Andy's, many entries into The Quote Book, and copious amounts of alcohol.

I've never had that kind of time since. Yet I managed to enjoy some of those things this weekend, during the busiest month of my life, while also celebrating Larry's birthday with some a little early, cheering on the Pens, working for a charity, taking care of a sick, little guy and catching the season finales of "Extreme Home Makeover" and "Desperate Housewives."

But that half-hour of Golden Girls made me so, so happy--and in the simplest way! It brought back great memories and also the not-so-awesome reminder that I was once voted Dorothy on the "Which Golden Girl Are You?" quiz. Dorothy is awesome. The testosterone-issue rumors about her...not awesome. What I'm not-so proud of, though, is the fact that I actually took that quiz. When I was 20.

I've been accused of far-worse wastes of time. Like the American Idol game yesterday. Because what do you do after the Pens clinch the Eastern Conference? You play the American Idol game. Larry had an adult league game, so he was spared my rendition of Britney Spears' "I'm a Slave 4 U." Even though it wasn't as legendary as Lou's version of Spears' "Lucky," it was awarded one performance star--the lowest rating possible.

Now, the thing you should know about the American Idol game is that you don't have to sing. Like Trivial Pursuit (am I actually comparing it to Trivial Pursuit?), there are many categories, and in the category that gives you the chance to showcase your talents via the echo mic, you can opt out of singing with the Break it Down (dancing for the judges) or Idol Truth (Idol trivia) options. But each time I had the opportunity (and there were many), I chose to Belt It Out. The game picks the songs for you, so to my defense, had I chose, Britney Spears' catalog wouldn't have been in my genre.

I had better luck with "Fame," to which I also embarrassingly busted out some old twirling choreography. Also earning me many more performance stars were: "Proud Mary," "Papa Was a Rolling Stone," "Physical," "Wild Thing" and "Greatest Love of All."

After that fun, I watched season finales. And after watching season finales, I discussed season finales with friends, as though I was 15 years old and my parents just installed my own phone line.

It was a relaxing way to end the weekend and a simple way to begin another busy week. Isn't that how the best summers begin?

What I'm Loving: A top 20

1. That summer glow, that baby glow, that in-love glow

2. Watching Pens games with my favorites. (I'm going to miss you, Ry and Rizzo!)

3. Surprises from my mom.

4. Funny things the kids say. For example, we were recently behind one of the three taxicabs in Pittsburgh, and Cienna said, "Mommy, why is that car wearing a hat? That's silly."

5. Not having writer's block.

6. Plans with the best of the best for SATC and dinner at the end of the month.

7. Mr. C and his incredible cooperation. He's the best person to work with ever.

8. Being part of a Christian ministry that truely accomplishes something.

9. Being soulful and peaceful.

10. Generating ideas.

11. Ty not needing surgery.

12. That Ty is saying a couple more words each day.

13. Soup.

14. Bran flakes and light vanilla soymilk.

15. All the hostas in my back yard that remind me of those at my mom's and grandmother's.

16. Being outside with the fam, blowing bubbles and playing in sandboxes.

17. Prayer.

18. Recapturing my love of photography--sometimes it takes the right camera.

19. Mother's Day cards the kids made with Daddy that make me smile every time I look at them.

20. Pilates.

Why I'm Counting Down: Looking Forward to Learning More

This is part five of a blog series about why I'm counting down to vacation, while I catch you up on all that has left an impression on me so far this spring.

I've said before how, if we pay really close attention, we can learn as much from our children as we teach them. This past weekend was no exception.

As I watched Ty, I realized that learning to walk is a lot like walking away--one day it just clicks. Nobody can make you do it. Nobody can give you the center you need for balance; you simply must find it on your own. Nobody should let you hold their hand for too long, or you'll learn to rely on that for stability instead of your own two feet.

Between the kids and good friends, many things clicked for me this weekend. And I always love weekends like that because it proves how many things I still have to learn, which keeps my life from stagnating. It's sometimes as simple as sitting in a room among loving people, realizing how good you feel, accepting that you can no longer surround yourself with people or influences who inspire you to feel otherwise. It's in the words of a trusted student ministry leader who reminds you that what most people call "luck," you call "blessings." It's in the hands of a great-grandmother that have hugged you so many times, making you certain that there's no bigger blessing than loving a family. It's in the eyes of first-time parents who simply cannot stop staring at their newborn, smiling in total awe that their child's life began with their love.

One of Larry's friends became a father this weekend, and as soon as I saw the little photo on his cell phone, I started crying. I know how precious and irreplacable those first hours are, that incomparable joy that fills your entire being and the world around you, and I know that unbreakable bond and biological pull that changes your life forever. And I thanked God that I've been able to know all those things. And I thanked God that our friends were blessed to now know all those things.

It seemed to me that we should always strive toward such beauty and goodness, and the more you feel that kind of beauty and goodness in the world, the more difficult it becomes to be where it is absent.

And I guess when you feel that complete disconnect is when you finally walk away.

Where I want to walk most right now, though, is with my babies, and my love, through the sand, along the beach, just being thankful that I get to share it with each of them.

Why I'm Counting Down: Because I need more days like this

This is part four of a blog series about why I'm counting down to vacation, while I catch you up on all that has left an impression on me so far this spring.

Days when I get to see my baby girl graduate from her first preschool class.
Today wasn't her last day of school--that's in two weeks--but Cienna's class held a program for parents to showcase some of what they've learned throughout the school year. They sang songs and performed finger plays, and shared cookies afterward.

All the while, I was thinking of the first time I saw her little hands. And the first time she held her own toy. And the first time she reached out for me. And the first time we walked, holding hands.

She did everything she was supposed to during the songs, and she also kicked her feet often and squeezed her dress--something my mom said I always did during school events as a child.

Cienna is energy personified. I'm so proud of how far she's come and overwhelmingly pleased with all she's learned this year, a testament to the wonderful teachers I adore. She can read a little, spell a little, write several words and names--including Lee and Twist, whom she believes are her cousins*, sing several songs, hold down a conversation better than some adults I know, understands traffic rules, respects community helpers and knows the jobs they perform, and, most importantly, she's developed a love for school!

It was also nice to have my parents there with us (of course they came!), and they rewarded her afterward with a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.

To no surprise, I've had tears in my eyes all day about it. But I won't really cry until the very last day, when she says good bye to her amazing teachers and new friends.

Fortunately, we get to see some of them in church on Sundays throughout the summer, until next summer when she has a new class, new teachers and new friends.

It's so true, though, what they say about how fast the years with your children go. You really do have to savor them.

[*Larry's friends, Lee and Twist, watched a hockey game at our house recently, and Cienna was quickly convinced they were her cousins. She demanded to know the spelling of their names and created many pictures of fish with "TWIST" and "LEE" written below her aquatic masterpieces. Even though it's been a couple weeks, she continues to draw pictures for them, as is the case with most of our guests, so they have art waiting when they return.]

Days when Tina Turner and Cher sing "Proud Mary" on Oprah.
OK, so, yeah, I'm including Cher and Tina, and Proud Mary, among the perfect day of Cienna's preschool graduation. I love Tina Turner in a severe way, and sometimes I love her story more than her music. Still, when you want a woman who can rock you, you pretty much want Tina Turner.

My favorite three are Tina, Patsy Cline and Madonna. (Joe: It's not because of the movies "What's Love Got to do With It?" "Sweet Dreams" or "Desperately Seeking Susan" though I have watched them all more than I care to admit.) Tina is a fighter, though she found her greatest success through inner peace. No other woman can reinvent herself as well as Madonna. And Patsy Cline's voice is simply unmatched. (This is not to suggest that these three of the best female voice of all time. That title clearly belongs to Aretha Franklin.)

Thursdays that find you dancing along, prouder than Mary, singing in your living room, don't happen nearly enough. You have to savor them.

Days when the work cafe has the best wedding soup ever.
It couldn't have come at a better time either. Despite the fact that it's a brisk 55 degrees outside, the air conditioning is still on in the office. I was happy the soup could warm me up!

Days when I come up with the best Mother's Day craft idea and realize it will only cost a small amount.
But it's a surprise, so that's all I can say.

Days when a guy calls to request more Chipper Jones coverage and then tells me this joke:

Q: What's the difference between an American blow-up doll and a Muslim blow-up doll?

A: The Muslim doll blows itself up.

It literally happened just like that. One second he's yelling about Chipper Jones, the next he's telling me a joke. It was the most perfectly-bipolar conversation ever.

Days when I land an incredible interview and learn something amazing.
But I can't share it yet, so that's all I can say.

Days when I realize it's only two weeks until Indiana Jones.
And I'm OK with being that kind of dork.

Days when it is the eve of Pens-Flyers and I read this story:
http://www.philly.com/philly/news/20080507_Plot_by_Pittsburgh_fans_against_Rocky_statue_.html

Why I'm Counting Down: Over.It.

This is part three of a blog series about why I'm counting down to vacation, while I catch you up on all that has left an impression on me so far this spring.

OK, so, arguably there are many things that fall into the Over.It. category right now--like people who think they're being confident when they're just being obnoxious--but an old friend helped me realize that what I'm most Over. is our country's current administration.

It's been no secret the deep unrest I've felt about the Bush administration's policies for some time now. At this point, though, I'm just restless and know I'm not alone. Many people in this country have senioritis when it comes to gun-slinging leaders from the South running our country (into the ground).

As my grandmother would say, "this is what it boils down to:" 1. Men and women have lost lives fighting in a war that has accomplished nothing for America. Maybe it has accomplished a little for Iraq, but it has certainly given our strongest enemy--Al Queda--more time and room to grow and work against us. 2. We still haven't found Bin Laden. Are we even really looking for him at this point? Do we have enough military resources to be looking for him at this point? 3. Gas is so high--and is only going to get higher as long as the demand is there, regardless of what any politician says--that people struggle to afford getting to work! 4. We are running out of food, and people are rioting overseas because they have nothing to eat. 5. There are still a lot of people who just don't care about any of this, who seem totally unfazed by it, and I feel very disconnected from them even though I may still love them.

I was reminded recently, a few times actually, how different 21 is from 27. More importantly, I've learned how different my own 21 was from my 27. I'll be 28 in November, and I'm probably one of the very few women among my peers who simply cannot wait for 30. I've always had high hopes for my 30s. And I feel like I've done what I was supposed to do in my 20s, which is to say I've done a lot in my 20s that I never expected to do at all.

"Your twenties are all about finding out who you're not." --Jim Cromie

Even though photos of family and recent photos of friends dominate my house, I still have a photo from my 20th birthday secured on a memo board in my kitchen. I see it every day. And I like having it there because someone once told me, "Don't keep the photos where you look your best. Keep the ones where you look happiest." It was hard not to have a genuine smile that day. I was surrounded by best friends, during a Saturday afternoon in college, holding a gag gift someone had bought at the dollar store for me. The aforementioned gift was a set of ceramic pigs, in honor of a well-known college dean.

I was once sent to interview that dean, whom my best friend and then-editor called a piglover. Coming from her, I assumed it was a term of endearment. But when I got to his office, with a notepad and tape recorder in tow, I immediately learned that he was, in fact, a lover of the swine. There was no place to look in his office without seeing a pig. There were pig statues, photos of pigs, pig art, pigs riding Harleys. I couldn't handle it. I was trying not to laugh. So I looked at the floor--which, thankfully, did not boast a carpet with pig prints. BUT there was a ceramic pig "crawling" from underneath the dean's desk. I started laughing in the middle of the interview. And you could hear that on the recorded interview.

Those days were incredibly easily. And I lived them fully and incredibly well.

But before I celebrated my 21st birthday, terrorism took down the World Trade Center, part of the pentagon, thousands of families and all of my idealism.

I was in Pittsburgh when it happened, watching from a 6th-floor classroom as Downtown workers evacuated our tallest buildings--a result of rumors about the flight that ultimately crashed in Shanksville was designated for the U.S. Steel Tower. I've never seen the streets so full and had no idea that so many people were even in the Golden Triangle on any given weekday.

My journalist's instinct immediately kicked in, and I was fortunate to work with the best fellow student journalists and friends all week. I did a story about how students were affected, interviewing young people from the east and west coasts alike.

A year later, I wrote a column about how it changed America and my entire life. Maybe I'll post those tomorrow, so you can read for yourselves (even though it's embarrassing to share what you wrote 7 years ago sometimes). They were both finalists for awards, with one actually winning. But that's not what I hold onto or feel proud about. I feel fortunate that I got to work with my best friends during a moment that forever changed our history. I feel fortunate that I was part of it in such a way that my children will have my voice to pass onto their posterity.

But one of the parts of the story I never told in writing was one of the most memorable: The guy in my class whom I sat next to. We'll call him J.I. He was a transfer from St. Louis, and we were sort of friends. He read all of my stories, and I went to his Pittsburgh lacrosse games. We called each other sometimes. We emailed each other sometimes. We fell out of touch. But the reason I'll never forget him is because we sat next to each other, watching as the second plane crashed into the World Trade Center.

This afternoon, we crashed into each other. Literally. I spilled my decaf coffee on him, but our attention was on catching up.

The first thing we talked about was politics. We've both been supporting the same candidate and working for him in different cities. I told him of my unrest. He told me of his.

"Honestly, I think maybe the subconcious reason people are so enthusiastic about this election cycle is that we're finally putting Bush behind us. And for many people in this country, that also means finally being able to put 9/11 behind us," he said.

We both recalled that Tuesday morning. We remembered the perfect weather. We remembered turning in our class assignments. We remembered that incredible September sunlight. We remembered sitting next to each other.

"Remember all the rumors that started within minutes about the planes being hijacked at the Pittsburgh Airport? The Pittsburgh Airport isn't even a major hub now, is it?" he said.

No. It's really not.

I told him about all of the things that have changed in Pittsburgh since 2001. I told him about all that's changed in my own life since 2001.

"It really doesn't surprise me that you have two kids and a husband already. You were always way ahead with everything and always kind of lived fast and passionately," he said.

"Yeah, that might be the nicest way anyone has ever described it," I said.

True to form, he asked many questions, some of which I didn't really want to answer, but did.

"OK, so tell the truth here, when everyone talks about how babies change everything, what really changes?" he said.

"What needs to change, changes. And what doesn't need to change, only changes if you let it," I said.

Some of the changes are incredible. You rediscover the world through the eyes of your child. You get the honor of watching a tiny person, a person you love most, take their first steps. You bring a child, your child, a life, into this world and get to fill it will love and knowledge. You get to watch your husband become a father--which will only deepen your love. Your whole life takes new meaning, and you truly think of someone else before your own person.

Some of the changes require sacrifice. The biggest complaint I hear from new parents is the lack of sleep. It truly is something you have to grow into, but those first days are rough. I was ready for it by the time Ty came into our lives, but it was the first time Larry was around a newborn. But the amazing thing about Larry is--even though I was breastfeeding Ty, and there was nothing he could really do to help--he got up with me at 2 a.m. and stayed awake until Ty went back to sleep. It was his way of reminding me I wasn't alone. For me, it was just one of the many moments where I knew we married the right people.

Sometimes, friendships change. Not the kind like Mary Beth and I share, which is the AWESOME kind. But the friendships that exist out of status or circumstances, those seem to naturally fade away. Occasionally, the coming and going of such a friend is surprising. Other times, it's not. And that doesn't make anyone a bad person. I've come to believe it's more a matter of relatability. After all, friendships truly develop based on like interests. And parenting is such a huge life change that friends who are not only NOT going through that, but also feel far away from even wanting that, can feel like they just don't have much in common anymore. Also, some people just aren't good communicators and thus fall out of touch. All you can really do in situations like that is leave the door open for when you have like interests again.

For the sake of clarity, Mary Beth and I have very different backgrounds, we approach many things differently, but I think we're frighteningly similar on two things: unconditional love and the value of communication. When we really need each other, there's no question. We're there. Plus, maybe I'm biased, but I have so much admiration for her. She's the best person I know, and I was once quoted as saying to her, "When the whole world goes up in flames, you will be sitting on a cloud with Jesus."

Another change is the concern for our economy and political climate. These things come to the forefront when you're a parent. You care about the educational opportunities for your children, the cost of that education and how much of that education is controlled by the government. You care about how much gas costs, and what it will cost you to drive them to school, practice, the doctor's office, the store. You care about how much gas will cost when they start buying it. You care about what kind of energy we will rely on when they are your age. You care about the future of this planet.

And even if you're not a parent now, but want to be someday, or have younger family members you deeply love, you're probably starting to care about these things too.

I had both of my children during the Bush administration--perhaps the two best things to come out of the last seven years.

One day I will talk to them about all that I remember of it--the history-making election between Gore and Bush in 2000, the terrorism of 2001, the unforgettable SNL episode hosted by Derek Jeter, the beginning of a war, the narrow election between Kerry and Bush in 2004, rising gas prices, the worst economy of my lifetime--one that has been compared to what preceded The Great Depression, and how I worked on a campaign for the first time during the 2008 election--in which the democratic party nominated a black man or white woman for the first time.

Most of all, though, what I want to be able to say is, "They were tough times, but our country pulled through, we pulled through. Just look how strong we are today."

And I hope Cienna and Ty know, and all of our children know, the kind of perfect beauty and innocence and hope of a sunny, September morning that is without pain, tragedy, stress or war.