Kids these days….

September 12, 2012 / Stephanie / Leave a comment

I used to be the youngest person in the room. Always. It just sort of worked out that way. I didn’t mind it except I’ve always looked much younger than I actually am, so I would occasionally battle people for treating me like I was dumb just because I’m young. Since there is absolutely no reason to ever try and make yourself look older, the best way to combat that is to just prove that you are smart.

Lately though, I’m not the youngest person in the room. I’m not the oldest either, but DC is especially young demographically. I still look much younger than I actually am, so the gasps when people find out that I’m in my 40’s can actually be somewhat complimentary. In a back-handed sort of way. I really am fine with being in my 40’s. I enjoyed my 20’s, but I wouldn’t go back. A) I don’t want to be that poor again and B) I am much wiser now that I was then and while ignorance is bliss, I’ve done my time there. My 30’s were hard for a lot of different reasons. They actually helped provide me with the life experience that has given me the different world view that I have now. And, as much as I love my son, I don’t want to have a 4 year old again. My son will be 13 in a few days and while I know that there will be challenges that we’ll face in this new chapter of our lives, he is such a good kid and we have a lot of fun. And, as he gets older, my husband and I have been able to spend more couple time together again. In fact, this summer the boy- child spent a week at sleep away camp in another state and then went to his grandparents house for 3 weeks. We got a little glimpse of what our life will be like as empty-nesters and it’s safe to say that we are going to be just fine. I even stopped threatening to move to where ever he goes to college. And, now that he has his sights set on Syracuse, I can guarantee I won’t be moving there. Too cold. (If he changes his mind and ends up in Florida, he might still have a problem).

I digress, but the point is that I don’t mind getting older. I still can’t help but shake my head when I realize how far down I have to scroll on the drop down menu to select 1971 when inputting my birthday into a computerized field. And, when the Beloit College releases their “College Freshmen Mindset List” (this year most were born in 1994, which means they were never alive at the same time as Kurt Cobain) , I realize that even though I feel young and act young, I just see the world differently.

For instance, when Bill Clinton spoke at the DNC last week, most of the people in my office did not even remember him being president. He’s always been an elder statesman to them. They looked horrified when I told them that Bill Clinton was the first president I ever voted for. To be fair, it’s not just the fact that it was 1992 that they found horrifying. And, yesterday, the television in my office was tuned into the replays of the newscasts from 9/11. When I asked if we could turn it down, they didn’t understand why it was bothering me. I mean no disrespect, but I wish we could remember 9/11 without re-living it in that way. For them, watching the newscasts is more of a history lesson. For me, it is like watching a nightmare. That day is seared into my DNA. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the weather. I remember how quiet and still it was in LA with no planes flying and very little traffic on the road. I remember having to turn off the TV even then and go outside to escape the horror of it all. I realized that most of them were about my son’s age when it happened, so it probably did not change them in the same way it changed me. It changed me instantly. For them, it changed the world they would grow up in. My son, who was just days away from turning 2, would never know a world in which 9/11 had not happened.

I recall sitting in my friend’s dorm-room in 1989, watching the television coverage of the Berlin wall coming down and knowing that this was going to change the world — and the world view of future generations. The people in my office have never known a world in which there was a Berlin wall anywhere but in a museum.

These are the things that shape generations. They are the things that make us who we are.

And, then there are the things that transcend generations. Music is the greatest example. I was with my 18 year old cousin a couple of weeks ago. He’d gone to a used music store and came home with Pink Floyd’s “The Wall”. Honestly, I think buying that album has become a right of passage. I was in 5th grade when my dad took me to my first concert — Jimmy Buffett. I can tell you that a long line of Parrotheads was born that night as I was an instant fan and now, so is my son. When I was pregnant with Jake, we took my dad to see Bob Dylan and Paul Simon in concert. Sitting there with my dad, enjoying the music with Jake dancing around in my belly is one of my favorite memories. So today, when I got the email with a pre-sale passcode for the Bob Dylan/Mark Knopfler concert, I wondered to myself if my husband and I should take Jake to see it.

While I was considering buying tickets, I also wondered aloud if this might be a concert that would have good re-sale value. My co-worker turned and looked at me with a puzzled look. I thought he was contemplating the question itself.

Instead, he said, “I thought Bob Dylan was dead”.

A few minutes later, I was asked if I was interested in going on a road trip to an Auburn football game in November. Now, it was my turn to be puzzled. As one of the “old folks” in the office, I don’t even get invited to office happy hours. This probably has more to do with the fact that I have rules about drinking with co-workers (don’t do it). I thought that they probably wanted a designated driver. No. That wasn’t it at all. Turns out they need a driver, but it’s because they want to rent an RV. And, nobody is 25 yet.

Reason C for not wanting to go back to my 20’s: Needing a chaperone.

I didn’t cry

August 27, 2012 / Stephanie / Leave a comment

Summer is effectively over. Oh yes…I know — we technically have until September 21st or so and we do still have one trip left to take, but school started today, so summer is over. I’ve never been happy when the first day of school rolls around. Yes, I love summer and hate to say goodbye to it…especially since I did not make it to the beach once this summer. But it’s not really about that because my favorite season is really when summer begins to give way to fall and the days are still rather long with cool mornings and evenings and daytime highs that still reach the 80’s. The humidity starts to lesson and the position on the sun in the sky gives off a more golden hue. I love it — it doesn’t last long though and maybe that’s why I cherish it so much.

Sort of like childhood.

Jake’s a September baby which makes for an interesting debate as Kindergarten approaches. In Washington state, the cut-off for Kindergarten is August 31st. But, if you are a September baby, you can test in. Jake’s always been smart — and yes, we talked about having him tested because we were certain that he would pass and be able to go to kindergarten. There was a big part of me, I admit — it was the prideful part, that wanted to do that. But, there was another part of me that didn’t want to let him go. As soon as anyone gave me a rational reason not to send him to school, I clung to it. It turns out that those rational reasons were the best advice I’d ever been given. The school principal told us that we needed to think way beyond kindergarten….and past elementary school. Where did I want him to be in middle school and high school? We already knew he was small for his age. We knew he wasn’t as socially advanced as many kids his age, no matter how many languages he could count to 20 in (yes, that is self deprecation you are reading there). That was terrific advice. Every year, I find myself thanking God that Jake isn’t going into ____ grade this year. He’s exactly where he should be. And, then my wonderful friend Shana said this: “Would you rather give him an extra year of childhood or an extra year of adulthood?”. That sealed the deal. It was the single best piece of advice I think I’ve ever been given. I’m not sure I’ve ever told her that….or thanked her. Hopefully, she reads this, but I will make a mental note to let her know personally.

I took the year off work and Jake took the year off of preschool and we just had fun. People asked me at that time if I was home-schooling. I suppose in a way, I was….but it was just our life. It wasn’t easy. Anyone who has a precocious child knows that it can be exhausting. And, when you have an only child, you are their playmate. I wasn’t a great one, to be sure. And, some days, I was exasperated. I remember having to call my husband to come rescue me from Target because Jake was having the mother of all meltdowns and I just couldn’t deal with it one second longer. But, I wouldn’t change that year for anything. Looking back, it was that extra year of childhood that Shana had talked about. I had envisioned it being his senior year of high school….but I don’t think so (although I will be incredibly grateful not to be sending a 17 year old off to college). That year was a gift.

I looked back at what I wrote on that first day of Kindergarten. He was full of nervous excitement. He was nearly 6 and SO ready to go to school. I held it together until I left him in his classroom and then cried all the way home. I noted that surely this would get easier. But it didn’t. Each year, it’s been just has heart-wrenching. Not sad — but definitely melancholy. I think there are a number of reasons why.

For one, with the rough start that we had, it’s amazing that my baby even lived long enough to go to school. That sounds overly dramatic to say, but it is the truth. So each milestone leaves me feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. But secondly, and perhaps more significantly, is the fact that he’s an only child. I have commiserated with other moms of only children and we all feel it — we only have this one shot. Each milestone is the only milestone. A friend of mine said this week that she’s in year 7 of the 10 year carpool for elementary school. By the time she’s put 3 kids through elementary school, she’s D-O-N-E. Not that each child’s experience wasn’t special and significant, but it’s understandable that you get to a point when it is just time to move on. We rarely hit that fatigue point.

We also don’t have much room to make mistakes. We make them….there is no question about it. But, what I mean is that we never have the opportunity to do things different next time. We also don’t get the luxury of past experience and to know when things just aren’t a big deal.

This weekend we saw “The Odd Life of Timothy Green”. If you haven’t seen it, I will do my best not to spoil anything. It is a delightful movie about a boy who is not afraid to be himself and parents who want the best for him, but end up smothering him because they have no idea what they are doing. Of course there is more to the story, but the point is this: The discomfort I felt in watching the parents make terrible decisions while earnestly doing their best to make great decisions was painful. I related SO much to them. I related to their entire story on a lot of different levels, actually. In the end, it was all of their mis-steps that made them grow in ways they had no idea they needed to. I often think that, as parents, we end up learning more life skills than we actually teach our kids.

Jake started 7th grade today. I think I’ve been more anxious about it than any other year — probably because I am projecting my own experiences on to him. My life was in major upheaval in 7th grade and I went through a lot. Seeing that movie yesterday made me remember that he has his own story. My anxieties are not his anxieties. I need to just let him be who he is and not spend so much time worrying about if I am doing all the right things.

And, as he walked down the street to the bus stop, I watched him with a sense of pride that wasn’t selfish (is that possible)? Rather, I’m just proud of who he is and how he carries himself and how he has such a big heart. I don’t take any credit for it. I just feel incredibly blessed that I get to be a part of it.

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook on Friday:

First day of school is Monday…Dear God, please keep and protect those kids with the courage to be themselves. Amen.

A more heartfelt prayer could not have been expressed. I would humbly add that He keep and protect the parents of those kids as well.

And just for a fun comparison — here is last year’s First Day of 6th Grade picture. 🙂

Please pass the Mother-of-the-Year Award

August 10, 2012 / Stephanie / 2 Comments

Anyone who’s a mother knows that when we publicly proclaim that we have earned the “mother-of-the-year” award, it’s likely that we have experienced an epic parenting fail. And, let’s face it, we’re looking for some commiseration. (Wow. Commiseration really is a word…I wasn’t sure. Either that or the auto-correct gods are mocking me for trying to use big words.) Anyway…it makes us feel better when others tell us how they’ve done something similar…or worse. The truth is that most of the time, it’s usually nothing that is going to land our kids in therapy. Most of us don’t post those things on Facebook.

At the end of the school year, my 12 year old had a culminating project in his Reading class. It was one of those projects that just seemed doomed from the start. He was in the middle of rehearsals for two different plays and worked really hard to get a head start on it. I was proud of him for having the foresight to get ahead of it. Then, he lost the folder that contained all of his research and drafts. Incidentally, this portion of the project carried the most weight in his final grade. I encouraged him to talk to his teacher and see what could be done. This particular teacher is not especially gracious and they had a rocky start to the year. He’d eventually won her over though and I know that she was aware that he was doing to the required work. She agreed to let him stay after school to recreate the folder, which he did for several days. He learned an important lesson around it all though — and that is that relationships are important. Sometimes they are the most important when it comes to things like this. I had tried to impress that upon him when he was having trouble getting along with this teacher. It ended up being a blessing that this had happened because he was able to see it all play out. Well, then came the day to turn everything in. It was a Friday. He was finished with it and was so happy to finally be getting this thing out of his head. He’d been wearing the jump-drive around his neck for days so that it wouldn’t get lost.

I dropped him off at school and headed to work. I was the second one there and I remarked to my co-worker that I always have such high hopes for Fridays, but they rarely end up going the way I expect them to because inevitably something random comes up that I have to deal with. Just then, the phone rang. It was Jake. He was in tears because he’d left his jump drive at home. I wrote a quick email to my boss, telling him what happened and that I’d be back in an hour. I quipped that they could leave the Mother of the Year award on my desk. And when I got back, there actually was one on my desk.

Some people said that they wouldn’t have done it and that this was an important lesson for him to learn. Lucky for him, those people aren’t his mother. I knew how hard he’d worked. I knew how devastated he was. I knew that he was sorry. Now was not the time to rub it in. His grade depended on it and sometimes I think we just need to extend a little grace. Although I did put a note in the envelope that read “Not Happy”, which kind of negates the grace thing, but I felt like he needed to know that this was a huge inconvenience to me. I never once have held it over his head, but I do remind him regularly how important it is for him to be responsible, especially now that he’s almost…ahem….a teenager. Mom isn’t always going to be there to bail him out.

These past two weeks, he’s taken part in a Counselor in Training program at the YMCA. He’s been working with kindergartners. He has always loved little kids and they love him too. He’s just got a way with them. One of the things that is nice about the program is that he earns Student Service Learning (SSL) hours, which are required for graduation in Maryland. He has to have 75 to graduate and students can start earning them in 6th grade. There is a special award for kids who have earned all of them while still in middle school and that’s a goal of his. The hours he put in the last two weeks were going to get him really close to that goal.

As I was driving him to camp, I asked him if they were going to get the SSL forms today. The blood drained out of his face as he remembered that he was supposed to print it out and fill it out to turn in today. He begged me to go home and get it. He could fill it out on the way back.

As hard as it was for me to do, I said no. I reminded him that he came home from camp yesterday and basically did nothing but work on his fantasy football team and watch baseball all evening– which is fine. It’s summer. But, he knew that he had a responsibility. And, I know that he genuinely forgot (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree), but this was an instance where I wasn’t going to bail him out. I told him he had to figure it out. He needed to talk to his counselor and figure out what his options are. He may miss out on those SSL hours. It’s not the end of the world if he does. There will be other opportunities to earn them. I told him that I did my part — I signed him up for the camp, I paid for it and I got him there on time every day. That was the extent of my responsibility. He was mad. He wouldn’t look at me when he got out of the car. He didn’t tell me that he loved me back and slammed the door without saying goodbye. It’s okay. He can be mad. I know he’s more mad at himself.

I wanted to rescue him. My instinct was to rescue him. But, that doesn’t teach him anything. Sometimes, my job is to rescue him but at the end of the day, parenting is really about giving our kids the tools they need to rescue themselves. Days like today are when the rubber meets the road. And, I look forward to finding out how he went about dealing with it when I pick him up today.

On a somewhat related note, right before this happened, Jake was telling me about how he was being peer pressured to chew gum. He has braces now and knows that gum is off limits. One of the things about having a kid with a black and white personality is that they usually will follow the rules, if someone else lays them out. He told me that he knew I was serious by the “evil eye” I gave him when I told him that if he breaks anything because he’s eaten something he wasn’t supposed to, he will pay for the repair. And, since he has no money, he’ll have to do it by doing the grossest chores I can come up with. Then, he went on to say, “Don’t tell Dad, but I’m more afraid of you than him”. He said it is because of the “look”. I said, “surely your Dad has an evil eye, too”. He replied, “Well, if he does have an evil eye, I’ve never seen it”. I realized that when we got on the discussion of the SSL form, I was giving him that “look”, which he describes as wide eyed, eyebrows raised and serious. I think it would scare me too.

So I think sometimes, we really do earn “Mother of the Year” (or at least, Mother of the Day) and my sense is that it isn’t always pleasant for anyone involved.

I wonder what Charles Caleb Colton would have to say about this?

July 11, 2012 / Stephanie / 1 Comment

I love Pink and was so excited to download her new single, “Blow Me (One Last Kiss)”. I didn’t listen to it right away, but when I did, my first thought was “now, why is Earthquakes and Shakes playing”. And, then I realized it wasn’t.

Don’t know Earthquakes and Shakes? Listen to it. You might find yourself wanting to listen to it over and over again.

And then, listen to this.

Admittedly, the first time I heard Earthquakes and Shakes I thought how much it sounded like this:

Throw this into the mix and you begin to wonder if there is any originality left in the world.

My message to Pepco in the wake of the DC Derecho

July 5, 2012July 5, 2012 / Stephanie / Leave a comment

The storm hit around 10:30 on Friday night. Our power in Bethesda went out almost immediately. Hundreds of thousands were without power and it looked like a tornado had gone through many areas. We all knew that it would be a few days before the power was restored. Pepco released a statement saying the conservative estimation on total restoration was Friday at 11pm.

If you look back at previous posts of mine and in my Twitter feed, you’ll see that I initially supported you in this crisis. I moved here only 2 years ago and I have resisted being a Pepco hater just because the cool kids do. I’ve lived through multiple day outages in other states. I get that infra-structure is an issue — an expensive one that people don’t want to pay for. I am married to a guy that has made a career out of managing crisis communications. I know that there are some things that just can’t be controlled. I also know that there are things that can be controlled. One of those things is messaging. Since I happen to know a little bit about communications, I’ll offer you some unsolicited advice and perspective from the standpoint of somebody that tends to stay unbiased in these situations and is still without power. I’m not convinced that you will read, listen or even care what I have to say, but one of the purposes of this blog is for me to express myself and at this point it’s therapy for me.

I could just limit my feedback to a Twitter post and say what many others say: “@PepcoConnect, you suck”. I actually do think you suck, but I’m going to tell you why. And, it will take WAY more than 140 characters because A) I can be long-winded and B) there are way too many things wrong with how this has played out.

But, first I’m going to preface it with the fact that I know that there are thousands of people working hard to restore power to everyone. I know that they are sweating it out in unbearable conditions to do their jobs. I know that many of them are without power themselves. I know that many of them have traveled thousands of miles to get here. I know that they missed the 4th of July with their families. I believe that those people truly care about their jobs and the people they are serving. I thank them from the bottom of my heart and I appreciate their hard work and dedication.

The things I take issue with come from within the organization.

You took to the airwaves immediately, pledging to work around the clock to restore power. Your self imposed deadline of Friday at 11pm was “conservative”, but that was when you had reasonable confidence that the entire system would be restored. The fatal flaw here was giving a definitive deadline. It would have been much better to say, “we estimate that we’ll have XX% of the system up” by (a certain date), acknowledging that there would be cases that would take more time. You should have been conservative with that XX% number instead of the timeline because……..
On Wednesday, you sent out a self-congratulatory press release saying that you had beat your deadline by 2 days and that 90% of the system was back online by Wednesday. You referred to the “pockets” that were still not restored without much explanation. I’m here to tell you that those “pockets” are actual people. And, you should have referred to them with more empathy. You also should have avoided patting yourself on the back until 100% were back up. I think that it would have been fine to say that 90% were back up 2 days before the deadline….but, only if you followed it up with, “but that’s not good enough for us because not everyone is and here’s the step by step plan with how we are proceeding…” Instead, you are promising robo-calls to the individual customers that remain without power. And, speaking of robo-calls……
I received one of those. On Tuesday. It said that our house should have had power restored and I was instructed to press #1 if it was, #2 if it wasn’t and #3 if it was blinking on and off. Stupidest robo-call ever because I wasn’t home to know. And, upon my arrival home to check, it wasn’t. And the tree that was down on a live wire three doors down was still there. At this point, I tweeted my frustration and was immediately answered by Pepco that they were sorry and I should call again. My husband did call and he was told crews were on the scene. Not true. I was at the house. No crews were on the scene. Also, they told him that our situation required “special equipment”. Apparently, that is code for “you aren’t on the priority list…simmer down now”. If it is the case, here’s an idea: when the crews are on-site and determine that special equipment is needed, leave a notice for the affected customers that says, “We’ve been here. We’ve assessed the situation and have determined that your problem will require specialized equipment”. How hard would that be? Not hard. Meanwhile, the Pepco app showed that many of the outages in my neighborhood had been resolved. And, speaking of the outage map…….
It’s a piece of garbage. It gives no real information. It says outages are resolved when they aren’t. It says crews have been assigned one day and then unassigned the next. It is conveniently updated in the middle of the night. I was up until midnight last night. When I went to bed, it said crews were assigned and our resolution date was Friday at 11pm. This morning at 7am, the crews had been unassigned and the status had changed to Sunday at 11pm.
The story in Bethesda seems to be that Pepco won’t touch the lines until the trees are removed, which is Montgomery County’s job. Montgomery County says they won’t remove the trees until the power is dealt with. Here’s the deal: Montgomery County is huge. Trees were down on power lines all over the county. How could this be a “Bethesda” issue? Pepco and MoCo appear to be in a pissing match, with weary customers and constituents caught in the middle. If I had to take sides, I’m going with the county. Why would they alienate one of the most affluent areas (read: voters) in the area? Speaking of affluent…..
Relatively speaking, we are not. And, most of our neighbors aren’t either (whether they want to admit it or not). We are all people who live in this area for different reasons. But, because we have a Bethesda address, that is the perception. I’m not going to argue that it doesn’t take more money to live here. It does. And yes, by many people’s standards we are affluent. Again, I would not classify my family that way, but I’m certainly not asking for sympathy. But, the sinister side of me (I know, it’s shocking that I have a sinister side) begins to wonder about the “priority” system in restoring power. I get that hospitals, nursing homes and businesses are going to have priority. But now, as I look at the outage map in MoCo and see that the majority of the outages are in Potomac, Bethesda and Chevy Chase, I start to think that maybe decisions are being made based on socio-economics. Are we at the bottom of the list because somebody decided that we have the means to find other accommodations? I know the fact that extreme SE DC is also without power blows a hole in that theory….but my sinister side can find an equally disturbing scenario — that those on the other end of the proverbial spectrum are less likely to make enough noise for the media to notice. And speaking of the media……
I just saw some neighbors of mine on CNN. Your communications plan has failed when CNN has people on the air saying that their power is still out, trees are still down on lines, they call you 10 times a day and “Pepco won’t respond”. Regardless of whether or not you have or have not responded, when CNN says you haven’t, you haven’t.

I have so much more to say, but I have other things to do. Like fill my car for the third time this week (I normally do it once) because I’m staying in Alexandria and driving my son to camp, which is closer to my house than Alexandria. I have to call the boarding facility to see if my dog can stay there another couple of days. I need to buy groceries for my friends, who graciously offered their house to us while they are out of town on vacation. And, since they arrive home tomorrow, I have to figure out where we will stay next. I have to go to my house, which is over 100 degrees inside to pack my son for a 3 week vacation to his grandparents house (where mercifully, he will have A/C and doting grandparents instead of a crabby mother). Oh, and I need to try and get some work done. I’m a contract employee, paid by the hour, so I don’t have the luxury of taking paid leave. But, I’ve already lost a good 3 hours a day to this situation, so on top of all of the money that this outage is costing me, I’m also taking a hit to my paycheck. And, the company I work for has lost my productivity.

Adding insult to injury, I received our electric bill in my email today.

Seriously, Pepco — get it together.

Happy Birthday America

July 4, 2012 / Stephanie / Leave a comment

It doesn’t get much better than spending the 4th in Our Nation’s Capitol. We are starting off with a baseball game then headed to see a friend at Walter Reed (seriously, thank a veteran today) and topping it off with watching fireworks over the Washington Monument. The only think that could possibly make it better is if we could sleep in our own bed tonight. But, I’m trying to stay positive and not complain. We are a million times better off than many because we live in this great country.

If spending the 4th in DC is on your bucket list, you always have a place to stay! Just make sure we have power first.

One last thing, get on over to the All-Star Ballot and vote #brycein12. Kid’s living the dream and making America’s favorite past-time a whole lot of fun to watch.

You named your baby “Derecho”?

July 2, 2012July 2, 2012 / Stephanie / 1 Comment

The storm that came through the DC area on Friday night has a name. It’s called a Derecho. I had never heard of it. It’s described as a widespread storm in which multiple bands of strong storms packing damaging winds move hundreds of miles. According to the National Weather Service Storm Prediction Center, their name comes from the Spanish word for “direct” or “straight ahead”, which is the way the storms typically move.

The heavy winds, typically upward of 60 mph (and I think we had 90 mph winds), come from downbursts in storm clouds, caused by differences in the heat and density of air within the storm systems. There’s already a Wikipedia page for Friday’s storm and Capital Weather Gang is taking suggestions to name the historic storm. So far my favorite is Derecho en Fuego. But, what will be very interesting is to see how many babies are born in say…..March or April who are named Derecho. Or Derrick. Or some other derivative of the name.

We are still without power in our neighborhood. We went to the house yesterday as we wanted to check on things and water the outside plants since the water restriction had been lifted. The house was stifling — 99 degrees inside. It was starting to stink, so we emptied the remains of the refrigerator and freezer — only to discover that we’d forgotten to empty the ice maker when we left on Saturday and it had melted all over the floor. The wood laminate floor, which will now likely sustain permanent damage. But, that can be dealt with.

We drove around the neighborhood a little, just amazed at the destruction. Trees were uprooted everywhere. Others had just snapped in two. Some had landed on roofs and cars. Others had miraculously not fallen on anything but the ground. Electric lines were down everywhere. We realized how lucky we are that the enormous tree in our backyard, which is in dire need of either cutting down or trimming back, was still standing. A few branches had come down, but nothing had hit the house. It made the potential damage to the kitchen floor seem like nothing. And it is nothing in the whole scheme of things. It might cost us some money, but that’s okay. Our family is okay and that is the important thing.

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The power is starting to come back on, but people are growing weary and impatient. And, I don’t blame them. Not everyone is as lucky as we are to have a cool place to stay. People blame the power companies. And no…they are not perfect. There are things that could be done to help prevent things like this, but they cost money and nobody wants to pay for them. They also take time and people want instant gratification. Trees could be cut back, but people fight that, too. So there are no easy answers.

What I do know is that the crews are working hard. Nobody is sitting in an air-conditioned room with their feet up on a desk, laughing at the misfortune of others and figuring out ways to prolong it. And, crews are working round the clock to get the lights back on. They’ve left their families in other states to come here — and it is a holiday week. They are working in unbearable heat and then many of them go home to their own dark, hot houses. Show them some respect. If you come across them in your neighborhood, tell them thank you. The system might be broken, but it’s not their fault. They are hard workers, making an honest living for their families.

And in the midst of the frustration, we need to remember to take care of each other. If your power comes back on, invite people over who you know don’t have power. Even if you know that your friends and family without power are in a safe place, check on them anyway. I can tell you that it’s not easy to be displaced from your home. Just show them you care. Be courteous on the roads. Treat intersections without lights as four way stops. I know this is DC, but give your horn a break for a few days. Our nerves are all frazzled. You’ll get where you are going, I promise. Smile at someone today. Even if you don’t feel like it. They might really need it. Actually, I know they need it. We all need people to be kind and a little bit patient every day of the year. A smile goes a long way, even when there isn’t a natural disaster to deal with.

And then, when the lights are all back on and our lives get back to normal….try to keep doing those things. Just an idea.

Surprised by Grace

June 30, 2012June 30, 2012 / Stephanie / Leave a comment

As you may have heard, we had quite a destructive storm come through the DC area last night. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Thanks to Capital Weather Gang, we had a heads up and they aren’t the guys who unnecessarily freak out. So, I knew when they said that this one was no joke, it was no joke. The storm came in and out quickly, but we lost power immediately. When we got up this morning, it looked like a tornado had gone through our neighborhood. We realized how lucky we were when we saw trees on house and cars. Still, we had no power and it was evident that it would not be coming on anytime soon.

We decided to try and find a hotel. Unfortunately, the PGA AT&T Golf Tournament is taking place at Congressional Golf Course, which is right near our house and all of the hotels were full. We also have a dog, so we needed to find a place that was pet friendly. It turned out not to be easy to find a place that also had power. We decided to go for breakfast because our son was “famished”. I’ve never actually heard Mr. Picky Pants express hunger this way, so I knew we had a situation on our hands. We sat at breakfast and tried to figure out what to do. We considered sucking it up, but the heat index was expected to be near 110 today. I was nearing tears when we got a text from a guy that Lloyd knows from transportation circles. He said that they were leaving town for a week this afternoon and that we were welcome to stay at their house…which has power.

We were just beside ourselves. Lloyd has known this guy for a few years via work connections. I had met him once but his wife had never met us at all. And here they were, offering their home to us. Honestly, if I’d made a list of all of the people in the area that we know who would have reached out to us in that way, they probably wouldn’t have bee very high on the list. Not because they aren’t great people, but because we don’t have that kind of relationship with them….or so I thought.

This morning, as we were trying to formulate a plan, our 12 year old remarked that he wasn’t worried…he knew God would provide. And, we knew that too. But, we didn’t expect this kind of provision. And it reminded us that God is always going ahead of us, preparing a way. I am guilty of acknowledging that God is in control and still trying to be in control myself. That’s not to say that we don’t need to do leg work. We do. We can’t just sit sweltering in our house and expecting God to walk in the front door and give us the solution. But, in our diligence, we need to allow God to do what he’s going to do.

In the midst of all of this, we had found a hotel. It had availability for a couple of nights and took dogs. And we had the means to pay for it although it wasn’t something that was in our budget. I will admit that while I will gladly open my doors to anyone (and was upset that I didn’t have power and couldn’t help others!), I often struggle with accepting help from others. It’s probably a pride issue. Ok, it’s definitely a pride issue. And I had to fight the urge to just say “we’ve got it handled”. It would have been fine.

But I would not have been so surprised by grace. I would not have had the opportunity to get to know these people who are obviously worth knowing better. And I wouldn’t have the opportunity to say to our son “yes…you were right. God provided for us” — and he did it in such an unexpected way that we can only point to His grace. It wasn’t because of anything that we did.

And that is the gospel.

6th grade awards ceremony — or — OMG, I just seriously quoted George W. Bush

June 12, 2012June 12, 2012 / Stephanie / Leave a comment

Today is the last day of school. Actually, they haven’t actually done any work for the last couple of days, so it’s the last day they’ll watch movies all day. This morning was the awards assembly. As I sat there watching, I was an insecure 12 year old all over again. And as the awards were being handed out, I remembered what it was like to wonder if you’re going to get an award and how it felt when you didn’t get the award you wanted. And, as the kids cheered for each other (some more loudly than others), I remember how the dread of wondering if my peers would clap for me actually drowned out the elation of hearing my name called. I always understood the academic awards. They are based on performance in the classroom. So, not getting an award for honor roll was my own deal, because I was perfectly capable (and believe me, I felt the sting of it when I didn’t get to wear a gold cord during graduation). But, I remember wondering who the heck decided that so-and-so was the best citizen or the most enthusiastic or the hardest worker or the most dedicated. And how on earth anyone can really display EVERY ONE OF THOSE traits in order to get the highest honor of all for Overall Achievement.

I also never understood the 100% Attendance Award. What exactly is the achievement? You didn’t get sick? Or you did get sick, but you came to school anyway? Believe me, I get the purpose of teaching children to be prompt and for school to be a priority because when they get to college and into the workforce, they need to have this core value. But, it seems to me that the award would be most useful if it was given to kids who were not ever tardy instead of disqualifying them for being sick — and staying home, like they SHOULD DO when they are sick. As this award was being handed out today, I made a comment that I hated this award. The mom next to me agreed and said that she once knew somebody that was so desperate to have her child get that award that she sent the child to school with lice. What core value is that instilling?

Perhaps I’m extra-sensitive about this subject because of my own son’s health issues. It’s nearly impossible for him to never miss a day of school. And, the award puts me on the defensive. I really need to let it go.

As I watched, I decided that being the parent of a middle-schooler might actually be more stressful than being a middle-schooler, at least in this instance. From where I was sitting, I felt more anxiety coming the from parents than from the kids. As parents, we are carrying around the baggage from our own experiences as well as feeling anxious for our kids as we literally watch them pack their own proverbial bags. We want our kids to do well — or more specifically, be recognized for doing well.

As I sat there and listened to the murmurings around me, I was a little amused by the whispered gasps of “I can’t believe (insert their child’s name here) didn’t get that award!” and “she will be devastated if she doesn’t get (that specific) award” and “I can’t believe (so-and-so) got that award”. And, the relief and pride when they did get *that award*. And, the disappointment when they didn’t.

And yes…I will admit, I felt it. I knew which award my son wanted, even though he hadn’t told me. I watched him puff up and get excited as that specific teacher approached the podium to announce their choice for “most outstanding” in that particular class. And, I watched him deflate a little when it was not his name that was called. As a mother, your heart hurts when your child’s does.

From an adult perspective we all know (or we should realize) that the awards are subjective. They don’t define who our children are. They don’t define who they aren’t. And the certainly don’t define who we are as their parents. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t be bursting with pride when they are recognized for being outstanding at something specific. Of course we should! But, we should also realize that there are lots of kids who also would have been deserving of that same distinction. Because the truth is that despite our best efforts, none of us is outstanding all the time. Not even the kids who get the overall achievement award (just ask the kids who get bullied by those same kids).

The life lessons lay in how we deal with these types of situations. If we are the recipient of the award, do we let it go to our heads? If we got a citizenship award, are we going to rethink how we might treat others when the people who dole out the awards are not looking? If we got the overall achievement award, are we going to step up our game and really take the award seriously and show everyone that they picked the right person?

If we don’t get the award, are we bitter? Do we say “that person didn’t deserve it” as a way of making ourselves feel better? Or do we simply realize that not everyone can get the award and not let it define us?

As parents, it’s a difficult line to walk — we don’t want to play them down, thereby devaluing the awards; but we also don’t want to put too much value in them, thereby deflating our kid’s confidence when they aren’t picked. Instead we have to encourage them to try hard, do their best and maybe they’ll be recognized next time. Or maybe they won’t. That’s pretty much how life is anyway, right? As nice as they are to get, none of these awards actually determine our success in life. George W. Bush summed it up perfectly when he said this to a graduating class at Yale:

“To those of you who received honors, awards and distinctions, I say well done. And to the C students, I say you, too, can be president of the United States.”

Read that again. Take it in. It’s likely the only time I’ll quote GWB.

As my son was walking by me to go to his class he stopped for a second. I said, “I’m sorry you didn’t get the _____ award”. With a smile, he responded, “that’s okay. I’m happy ______ got it. He deserves it”.

And just like that, I was more proud of my kid than I ever would have been if he had a piece of paper saying he was outstanding at _____________.

First Day of 6th Grade – August 29, 2011

Last day of 6th Grade – June 12, 2012

Happy Heart Birthday

June 5, 2012June 5, 2017 / Stephanie / 2 Comments

This was taken the morning of Jake’s surgery – June 5, 2000. You can see how blue his feet were.

This post was originally published in 2012. I’ve updated it with some new details.

Sixteen years ago today, Jake had his last heart surgery. He was 8 months old, 11 pounds and very, very ill. This would be his fourth surgery in his short life and the third that was literally life-saving. He was too small for the surgery, but he was also too sick to wait. So, we did what we had to do. I remember with vivid clarity handing him over to the nurse at Phoenix Children’s Hospital and watching them walk into the operating room. In the weeks and months that followed that surgery, the doctors admitted that they had little hope that he would survive. I heard more than one call him a miracle. His pediatrician looked me in the eye and said, “he should not be alive”. You can read more of his story here.

If you’ve been reading my blog for long, or if you’ve known me for more than a year, you know that I say the same thing every June 5th (except for the year I forgot!). I sound like a broken record. I’m grateful — so grateful. But mostly, I’m humbled that I get to be his mom. He makes me want to be a better person.

One of the things that has always amazed me is that he just isn’t afraid of anything. He isn’t afraid to take risks. And, when he decides he wants to do something, he gives it his all. And most of the time, he does it with an infectious smile on his fact. He’s not a big kid, but he’s got big personality. And, people are drawn to it. These days, as he faces the weird social vibe of high school, I’ve been impressed with how comfortable he is with himself. He’s just not afraid to be who he is, and in turn, he accepts people for who they are. I’ve often wondered if this comes from a deep, albeit somewhat sub-conscious, realization that life is short. I love watching him grow up and I am so excited to see what he does with his life.

Unfortunately, 1 in 100 children are born with a congenital heart defect. The silver lining in that statistic is that my son has some role models to look up to. I’ll never forget when he realized that Shaun White has the exact same heart defect that he has, Tetralogy of Fallot. And, here he is…an Olympic gold medalist. Max Page also has Tetralogy of Fallot. Name doesn’t ring a bell? You know him as Darth Vadar in the brilliant Volkswagen ad that first ran during the 2010 Superbowl. Paul Cardall is a pianist with an amazing story of survival. Tedy Bruschi was a linebacker for the New England Patriots who suffered stroke, a result of his CHD. He was named NFL Comeback Player of the Year in 2005 after his return. These people are proof that an illness does not have to define your life. And most recently, Jimmy Kimmel’s newborn baby was born with Tetralogy of Fallot, proving once again that heart disease can affect anyone. And, it doesn’t have to be a heart defect — we all have something that we face. These stories can inspire us all.

In June 2012, Buddy Media signed a deal to sell to salesforce.com. I saw the tweets and the headlines in my news feed. I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t care enough to read the story. And then a friend sent me this you tube video that Michael Lazerow posted after the signing of the deal . As my husband and I watched it that night, I realized that this is what I want for Jake. I want him to never doubt himself. To know that he can do anything. And, to never be afraid.