One Directi♥n

Oh, yeah baby.  You read that right.  Today was THE day.  Probably the day that will live in my girls' memory FOR-EVAH.  And it all started 2 weeks ago, when I heard a spot on our local radio station informing the masses that One Directi♥n was going to be at Mall of America for a meet and greet.

My girls have been following them for about a year, since they appeared on Britain's X-Factor.

You say "One who"?  Well, let  me introduce you to the newest boy band, One Directi♥n (my girls use the heart...that's "their" thing):


So, the way the story unfolded was to be part of the MAG you had to go to MOA and purchase the One Directi♥n CD (ONLY) at Best Buy and you would get a wrist band.  Well, silly me STUPIDLY assumed that they would be selling the CDs for at least a couple days before they ran out of wristbands and NO I was not going to rush to MOA to buy the CD. And they sold out before noon the day they went on sale because OF COURSE they did.  But, my SIL will FOREVER hold the title of ROCK STAR aunt for going to MOA and standing in line for 4 hours to obtain 5 CDs and 5 wristbands.  THEY WERE IN!

Well, maybe. Because the "rules" were, they would begin signing at 1(30) on Sunday and they could quit whenever they chose to quit.  Even if there were people still in line with wristbands.  I questioned my girls...what if that is you?  Would you lose faith in them?  They said no, and NO they would NEVER do that to their fan base (OH, to have that kind of faith).  But, just in case, they slept, on the sidewalk (with their aunt...yet another reason why she is a rock star) outside the MOA from midnight last night, being let into the mall at 530am to stand in line there.  Luckily they ended up about 100 girls from the front of the line.  I went to church and showed up at 1245 and immediately "found" them (from the 4th level).

Yes, they wore matching shirts, ones they had made special.  The front read:

The back, I thought was unbelievably clever (lifted from Tumblr) (and yes, I cropped the P):

 

The rotunda at MOA was WALL TO WALL girls:

 

Each of the 3 levels were 3 deep in girls and the funnel went all the way back to SpongeBob.
I was pretty amazed that there was the order, if not silence, that there was.  I fully expected to see tons of pushing and shoving but NOTHING.  When the group arrived, the crowd went crazy, noise wise, but nothing unexpected for THOUSANDS of teenage girls. Slowly the girls started being funneled across a table where the boys sat:

Our girls were the third row back and it didn't take them long before they were almost there:

And then they were there.  They weren't allowed to hug but they each got high fives from all of them:

The girls made up a tshirt for the band that said "Minnesota ♥ One Direction" and they each wrote a message on the back.  Mostly corny(well, they thought clever) lines from their songs.

And then...they were done.

The question is...how many days will it take before we are able to peel the silly smiles off their faces?

Observations from a 16 Year Olds Birthday Party

Aside from providing two movies, one scary one funny, and a plethora of food for what was 15 15/16 year old obviously underfed and malnourished girls, the role of birthday girl's mother is pretty much non existent.  There is no picture taking, no gift opening watching, nothing other than a silent presence (sorta) lurking in the background.  Not seen, or heard, or acknowledged, but there.  Somewhat like Paranormal Activity.  Since this seems to be my new role, I am relegated to providing only my observations:  the good, the bad and the OMG ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME.


First observation would be in the OMG ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME category...when I heard the number of girls she wanted to invite:  15. And while initially only a small portion were to sleep over, I ended up saying just let them all (yes, I know...weak moment).


Second observation would be that 15 16 year old girls have learned that their voices DO have a volume control and apparently they are willing to use said volume control.  Without being asked.  I'm going to call that a good.


Third observation is related to spacial planning.  Our basement family room, which compared to our upstairs, combines the kitchen, hallway and living room, really does not have the floor space for 15 16 year old girls.  It MIGHT have the space for 15 11 year old girls but I can state firmly and irrevocably that THAT will not happen.  Not EVER.  Because I happen to know that observation number two does NOT apply to 11 year old girls.


Fourth observation: 15 pairs of shoes, even summer shoes, is STILL a boat load of shoes.  I would choose a different method of entry to our house than the front door, should YOU host 15 girls.  Just sayin'.


Fifth observation:  15 16 year old girls might just rival the amount of food 15 16 year old boys will eat.  Party food, per her request included: bruschetta, massive quantities of shrimp salsa,  double batch of spinach dip, strawberry cheesecake bites (found on pinterest and a HUGE success), a 3 lb bag of Skittles artfully presented in a large Margherita glass, and walking tacos for the inevitable midnight feed.  The oreo blizzard ice cream cake?  Well, they forgot about that  last night so they ate it for breakfast this morning, so I am off the hook for the chocolate chip pancakes I was going to make.  YEAH ME!


Sixth observation:  setting up the trampoline for the year might have seemed premature (even though it WAS 81 degrees yesterday), but it was in fact a GREAT idea.  Oh, and apparently the bladders of 16 year old girls are MUCH more resilient than those of, say, women my age.


Seventh observation:  brothers, especially older brothers, are sometimes a handy convenience in the event that uninvited guests show up and you do not want to be the "bad cop".  I kinda think older brothers secretly relish the opportunity to play "bad cop".  That, however, was just an opinion based solely on observation.

Eighth observation:  sometimes...SOMETIMES, younger sisters (not youngest sisters, but younger ones) aren't ALWAYS the pond scum we believe them to be.  Like, when they bring down all the fixings to the taco bar and set it all up, then leave you and your friends to enjoy it without having to put forth any effort.  Musta been a leap year.

Ninth observation:  youngest sisters..they'll ALWAYS be pond scum.  Well, until they're like 16.

Tenth observation:  my daughter has some pretty awesome friends.  I am a firm believer in being able to judge people by whom they associate with and I found not a one of these girls lacking.  Her friends are all smart, athletic, driven, beautiful, funny, and polite girls of high character.  And know what?  I'm going to take FULL credit for that. Because like attracts like.


See...even when you think it is all about her, I can make it all about me.

Wading Through the Political Process

As is fairly typical with the things I do, when I do something, I tend to do it with gusto.  And today's post has it...in spades.

Last month, Minnesota had its Republican caucus.  This was so completely foreign to me but I have become more and more concerned with the misdirection in which this country is headed, I could no longer remain a spectator.  Edmund Burke says it best: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."  So, I volunteered to be a delegate for the Scott County GOP Convention.  It was held Saturday.  Grab some popcorn, I'm about to offer my observations of the political process.

When I arrived, I'm fairly certain I had that whole "deer in the headlights" look about me.  I knew pretty much NO ONE there and I wasn't sure where I was supposed to be.  So, I took my clue from the lemming and just pushed myself into the crowd and moved into the auditorium.  There, I looked for my precinct; there were signs on certain seats for your precinct.  Which I found, after climbing over numerous people (you're welcome) and recognized a few people from our caucus.

As the convention got started, well, I quickly got the feeling that this was going to be a whole lot of "hurry up and wait".  The agenda had us adopting the rules (Roberts Rules) and of course, having done this (I assume) several years in the past, the rules weren't STILL quite right.  So the process of amending the rules, debate on amending the rules, equal number of for and against debaters, followed by a reading of what COULD be an amended amended rule, then a vote confirmed my suspicion that I was in for a LONG day.

The first issue that surface, after a portion of the rules were adopted dealt with the new congressional lines having been drawn and a portion of our county having been drawn out of "our" congressional district and into another congressional district and "they" weren't happy about having to attend two conventions so they wanted autonomy.  Then the debate began in earnest.  After all the debate, the request was withdrawn, the remainder of the rules were adopted and we broke for lunch.  So the morning was spent adopting rules that had already been set in previous years.  This was my second suspicion that today was going to be longer than LONG.


When I returned from lunch (I went home), we again took up the issue of the group wanting to break away from the county and re-debate all that.  Then, once that issue was put to rest (they won their autonomy by one vote, which had to go to a written vote which extended the process), my now comrade in votes leaned over and asked me if I had it to do over, would I volunteer to be a delegate and I only paused briefly before responding yes, that it is important that I experience this process.  The next order of business was the election of new officers, which again, I thought would go quickly but, again, I was wrong. Speeches, written votes...OY!  


While votes were being tallied, we moved onto the business of amending the Republican Platform language. O.M.G.  The process began all over at which point I turned to my "partner in crime" and informed him that yes...I wanted to change my answer.  And we laughed.  And we silently seethed and sat through yet another drawn out process.  One that I understood the need for but was anxious to see completed.


THEN...we finally got to the process (by now it is after 3pm) of electing delegates for the Congressional District 2 (CD2). And this is where things got "interesting".  I had gotten a phone call the day before asking if I would consider running for CD2 delegate.  I had briefly considered it, wanting to see how far I could actually make it (and how far I wanted to make it), and had decided no.  But  now I was being ASKED to run.  And here is why.  The next county over, I was told, had "slated" for a certain candidate.  I had no idea what this meant and as it was explained to me that a group of delegates from the caucus had gotten together "off line" and had planned to vote for ONLY delegates for the CD convention who they knew would ONLY vote for their candidate.  Thus, stacking the deck, so to speak.  Sadly (IMO), I found out that delegates from our precinct were also involved in slating (for the same candidate) and I agreed to run for delegate.  I had a lovely speech hitting all salient points of why *I* was the perfect candidate for delegate:  funny, articulate, eloquent, worldly, derisive, and self deprecating...ALL PERFECT qualities (IMNSHO) one wants in a congressional delegate.  However, I had only 30 seconds to deliver my symphony of virtues because that is all the 218 (YES...you read that correctly...more delegates ran for a CD delegate than didn't) were given (and I'll be honest, I am fairly certain that I was cut off at 15 seconds.  I had my husband time me after the fact and I was WAY further along then when time was called.  But if you want to call that sour grapes, that's ok too) and I stood in line (being candidate number 176) for WAY longer than I would have preferred.  I happened to luck out because I had a candidate for our state representative (this is a shout out for Tony Albright) in front of me and we kept each other well entertained through our hour long plus wait in line for our "30" seconds of fame (or infamy).


After that, I selected the candidates that I wished to have as delegate (and yes, I chose myself, because even though I didn't get to deliver my entire speech, I knew how good I am), handed in my ballot to the precinct (acting) chair and tapped out.  It was 545pm and I felt like I had given all I had to give.


I spoke with someone on Sunday  morning who stayed around until 830pm and found out that I had lucked out...I had NOT been chosen for delegate (WOOT! so my April 21 date was free and clear!)  That was the good news.  The better news was that our county had NOT slated for "the other" candidate.  WOOT, WOOT!  Yes, a double WOOTER.

A stunning Saturday (it was 68 degrees...do you KNOW how often it hits 68 degrees in Minnesota in March?) spent in a high school auditorium to learn "the political process".  Was it worth it?  I'm not sure I'm prepared to answer that.   Had it been a typical early March day in Minnesota, I'd say yes, it was worth it. (Go ahead, call me selfish.  I'm OK with that).  But I can certainly see why people would have NO interest, WHATSOEVER, in going through this process.  Even if you thought it was for a good cause.  Because even when things are for a good cause, there is always the chance that you will lose.  I guess it's a chance you have to take.


So, at the end of the day, when you stop and look at what's at stake, I guess I'd have to say, yeah.  I'd do it again.  I wouldn't necessarily like it.  But I'd do it.  Because it's the right thing to do.  And it goes back to Edmund Burke.

Mexico 2012

We arrived home late (LATE) last night from a vacation in which we took our 4 children (17, 15, 13 and 10) to Mexico.  This was our third trip with the kids and I thought it would be nice for me to offer up some tips to those who might be considering a family vacation (specifically to Mexico).  I mean, c'mon, the only real "tip" that you know when traveling to Mexico is "don't drink the water".  No one tells you all the "inside" tips that really help a trip go smoothly.  So, today is your lucky day.  I'm going to share with you what I have learned.

10 Tips for a FABULOUS Vacation in Mexico

1.  You want fabulous?  Leave the kids at home.  If you're willing to settle for good-to-great, then go ahead and bring them.  And earplugs.  Because location does NOT equal lack of whining.  Choose wisely Grasshopper.

OK...the assumption is made that you did NOT choose wisely, instead decided to be self-sacrificing, and yeah, well, that's OK too.  You've just downgraded your trip but will probably get to heaven quicker so the tradeoff is worth it.  So, children ARE in attendance and we'll go forward from there.

2.  Choose an all-inclusive.  I know, I know it's more expensive BUT in the long run, you'll be happy you did.  I specifically looked for an All Inclusive that was on the smaller side and was THRILLED with what I found.  It's not super fancy, but it's clean, the staff LOVED the kids and knew them by name and, since it was smaller, it allowed us to relax a little by not worrying when we sent a child (10) back to the room by herself.  I chose The Reef Playacar (for the second time) because of its size, because of its price, because of the location (within walking distance of Playa del Carmen) and because of its uniqueness:  It is comprised of a series of 16 "villas" each with 12 rooms on 3 floors (so it only has about 200 rooms).  The main "avenue" that connects the front desk to the beach leads one through a jungle like environment.  We LOVE it.  People either love it or hate it.   AND I selfishly (yes, I know...SHOCK) chose The Reef because in all the hotels (6, I think) we have stayed at in Mexico, it has had the best beds.

3.  Yogurt.  It's your friend.  And in Mexico, it can be your BEST friend.  You don't have to look at it as a chore.  It can be a treat.  A very, very tasty treat:

That's pineapple, cantaloup, bananas, watermelon, honeydew, bananas topped with yogurt and fresh granola. My tip...find a way to include yogurt in your daily diet.  At least while in Mexico.  Now, I just need someone to make that for me every day while I'm at home.  Any volunteers?

4.  Bring a playmate for your child.  Someone who is close in (mental) age.  So they'll have someone to play with.  The girls had the girls (their cousins):

 

The boy had his uncle.  And dad.  They all acted about 17.

5. Involve your children in the "activities" because you never know when what was a "lark" turns into a career opportunity.  Exhibit A:

 

As luck would have it, the waiter at dinner that night also showed the kids how to fold napkins into chickens.
And of course what Mexico trip would be complete without a little salsa dancing.  Exhibit B:

I know, I know...WHO knew?
6.  Talk with your wait staff.  They will steer you in the direction of THE BEST food available.  Case in point:  Miguel.  When we requested someplace to eat in Playa, he suggested Fogon.  A BIT off the beaten track, but it was EXCELLENT AND inexpensive.  The specialty:  tacos el pastor: 

That is layers of pork, slow roasted on a spit and carved off gyros style with fresh pineapple on top.  YUM.  I actually had the arrachera (flank steak) with grilled spring onions, pablono chilis roasted and topped with cheese.  It.Was.Awesome.  The girls...they all RAVED about their chosen entree.  Only one person spoke any English and he helped our table of 12.  So...we tipped big.  REALLY big.


7. Sometimes, in Mexico, people want to keep you out of their property.  And they'll go to some great lengths to do so.  Lengths like this:

Those are glass bottle that have been broken then set in mortar atop of fences. My advice?  Do not allow your children to climb such walls.  Call this a safety tip.  

8.  My older kids decided they would like to para sail, so we set up it up. They were going to allow one person to be in the boat to take pictures.  So, I tucked my (pocket) camera into its case, attached it to my swimsuit, tucked it INSIDE of my swimsuit, with the life vest tightly covering both.  It worked like a charm.  I made it out to the boat and was able to get some good shots of the kids:

The wave runner trip on the way back went a little different when the driver decided to dump all 4 of us up close to the shore.  Purposefully.  Fully dunk.*  I hopped out of the water as quickly as possible and grabbed the camera (in the same place for safety) but the case was pretty damp.  Luckily, as you can tell, the pictures are fine.  The camera...well, it is currently residing in a bag of rice in the hopes that it will dry out the electronics IF they got wet enough.  This tip would be:  carry ziploc bags with you at all times.

9.  Most hotels provide fairly  nice chairs, both near the pool and on the beach and ours was no exception.  The problem was, there were 10 of us.  So if we wanted to be seated anywhere close to each other, we had to be up at Gawd Awful O'clock in the morning with towels, clothes, books or bags to save chairs in a group.  I became adept at the 530am "chair alarm" (believe it or not but it was somewhat internal) and would usually sit and watch the sunrise.  I actually thought they were all very pretty until our last day (yes, that would be the day without the camera), when it sped past "pretty" on its way to spectacular.  Initially the sky was painted muted shades of pink, orange and yellow with light reflecting off the whispy clouds, turning them lavender.  It was a sight to behold.  I could tell though that there was a thick line of clouds on the horizon so it was unlikely that I would actually see the sun, but I sat there in awe of what I did see.  Then, I glanced up in time to see this small sliver of bright red peek over the horizon and held my breath as more and more revealed itself.  My first thought was the lyrics to Shine...Heaven let your light shine down...and then I chuckled when I realized that He has quite adept at rising the Son.  Tip: take the time. Sit on the beach.  Watch the sunrise. I can show you where to look, and tell you what you will find.
  
10.  Ultimately, you can't control the weather.  You can't (completely) control your kids.  But you can control how you respond.  And you might just squeeze a little fun in there...somewhere:

*full disclosure...I would SO not have had a problem getting dumped had I not had my camera.  When it happened I initially thought it was funny until I realized...OH CRAP...MY CAMERA.

Ugly Sweater Day

It's Snowball Week at the high school this week and that means that my children are scrambling for "costumes".  Today's costume?  Ugly sweater day.

You know what sucks?  When your wardrobe gets raided for their costumes.  It probably wouldn't bug me so much if it wasn't "UGLY" sweater day, because that implies a degree of taste (or lack thereof).

However, I will take solace where I find it.  My son chose one of my sweaters.  It was one that I haven't worn in a couple years but I never really considered it ugly.  My daughter raided her dad's wardrobe and came up with a Neal (Santa Clause movies)/Bill Cosby style sweater.  My solace?  The sweater of mine hadn't been worn in a couple years (so it is ready for Good Will) and my daughter's choice will probably garner more attention than my sons.  But ultimately, I think my kids will find that their choices were NOT ugly.  Not in the true sense and spirit of the word (as it applies to ugly sweaters).

In the end, I hope they realize that their parents sense of style, while not being completely fad conscious, aren't THAT far off the mark. Or at least one of their parents.  Ahem.

And of course, there will come a time when they are in our positions.  I hope I'm around to see it.  Because Karma, when you're on the receiving end, can be HILARIOUS!

 

Count Your Blessings

Too often, I think we take our lives for granted.  And when life throws us a curve, we respond as if life as we know it has ended instead of taking it in stride.  I believe I am guilty of doing exactly that.

Today, I am writing to you from Bellingham Washington.  Why, you might ask, are you in Washington?  Back in December I wrote briefly about my sister and that is the subject of today's post. She has had a tough month.  Along with the infection that took her by surprise, the subsequent hospitalization, the mental fight she had with the hospital (who refused to comprehend that SHE.DID.NOT.HAVE.THE.SUPPORT in Kentucky), the release AMA (and subsequent threat, by the hospital staff that her insurance would not cover her illness), the flight across country to check into a Washington hospital, determine the infection has spread to her blood, the immediate need to remove (on Christmas Eve) the prosthetic hip to stem the infection, the "need" of the surgeon to fracture her femur to remove the joint resulting in massive quantities of pain, the fact that they are unable to replace the hip until they can verify the infection has been removed (8 weeks from removal) so a temporary "spacer" was placed where her hip should be meaning she is unable to place any weight on the hip (seriously...stop and ponder the ramifications of this, for 8 weeks, unable to place any weight on half of your body), being moved from a hospital to a convalescent home for two weeks, followed by her release yesterday.  To sit at her boyfriend's home and "recover".  Recovery means counting the days by performing 3/day antibiotic iv infusions, high doses of narcotics, until her body tests free from the infection.  Then, and only then, will they go in and put in ANOTHER prosthetic hip.  And she will then get to recover from that.  Again.  For the third time.

So, I flew out yesterday to help her out.  I was at the airport in time. Went through security fine, got to my gate, waited for my flight to Chicago to be called where I would fly out later direct to Seattle, land at 1130 at night and rent a car and drive the 100 miles to Bellingham.  But as I attempted to board my flight, I was told that I was scheduled for the next day.  Since I HAD looked at all the flights on Tuesday AND Wednesday, I thought "OMG how could I have made that big of a mistake (and gotten through security in the process)" when the attendant informed me the issue was my Chicago-Seattle flight had been cancelled because Seattle was expecting a huge storm and they had rescheduled me for the next day.  Instead of panicking, I waited to find out what the alternative was, if there was one, and as luck would have it, they got me on a different airline, a DIRECT flight, that left in an hour and would put me into Seattle at 830 vs 1130.  Through it all, I tried to be accepting of what was happening.  I don't know if it worked in my favor, but I know that instead of arriving at an ungodly hour in the morning, I made it at a reasonable hour, even given having to drive under some less than ideal conditions (as of this morning I was looking at 12 inches of snow).  My goal this week is just to try and make my sister's life a little more comfortable. 


So, when life throws those curves, it might be a good time to count your blessings.  Because those curves?  Sometimes they just need a little perspective.

Momma Always Said...

Do you have sayings in your "mom" repertoire that you can trace DIRECTLY back to initially hearing from your mom?  I do.  More than I can count.  And of course my husband mocks many of them.  "Six of one, half a dozen of the other" is one he mocks.  Now days, I just say "same-sies".  Fewer words needed.  Sorta like texting.

But one of the cute little saying my mom was fond of was "you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar".  Now, we all know most of these sayings ARE true, but it's always nice to see them play out.  I got a chance to do just that.

We have a trip to Mexico planned.  Everything was all booked and shortly before Christmas I got the dreaded email saying that our flight information had changed.  And as we all know, changing flights are RARELY for the better.  So, I did what I normally do and put off dealing with it until after the holiday.  Heck, I put it off until after I had my tree down.  Finally I "grabbed the bull by the horns" (see what I did there?) and tacked the issue.  Our airline was American (yes, that was fun too, hearing they had filed for bankruptcy AFTER we had our flight booked) so I went online to see if there were any options that might work for us better than what our new changes were.  There was.  Although, the options returning (the changes they  made had us returning at 1145 at night with the kids needing to go to school the next morning) meant that we would put ourselves at risk if we didn't get through customs quickly in DFW, so I decided to just deal with the outbound flight.

I called American and when I got hooked up with an actual person, I was, well, sweet as honey.  I explained my dilemma (flight has us arriving later than I had hoped), had some options where the representative could start.  The representative found the changes that I wanted before I even suggested it and offered the change at no fee.  He then asked if I had any issues with the return trip.  I said I did, but even though it would mean some tired children upon return, I was OK with leaving it.  He made the changes, took my email address and said he would send me a change of itinerary.  I disconnected feeling very satisfied and thinking that people really DO respond better when approached in a nice way.  I went to my email and checked the changes and the representative had gone ahead and reconfigured our return flights such that the delay was minimized an we would be landing 2 hours earlier than expected.  BONUS!

This experience wasn't really anything new to me. Well, the extra effort the representative went to was nice and unexpected, but more and more I have found that the simple rule..."people respond in kind" almost always holds true.  Especially when you are dealing with customer service issues.  I suspect that they have a SUCKY job.  And hopefully, it just takes one person being nice to make their day.

I like making people's day.  I find that "what goes around, comes around". ;-)