Christmas Crisis--Someone push PAUSE!

Dear family and friends,

Merry Christmas.  Happy New Year.  Well, that’s about it.  Time for me to close.

Peace to you and yours,

Missy

This is very nearly how my Christmas letter is going to read this year and really, (and I do mean REALLY), I have NO GOOD EXCUSE as to why.

I am lucky, blessed, healthy, blah blah blah.  For whatever reason, I’m just not that “into” Christmas this year.  James constructed the tree two weeks ago and I have yet to hang a single ornament.  We have a few bubble lights that are not working and I have not yet rushed to Walmart in a Christmas decorating frenzy to make certain that the last bubble light in Kirksville has not already been snatched up.  Our neighbor went all out with lights on his house this year and I truly feel like taking this approach:

Someone needs to perform a Christmas intervention and QUICK.  I think the problem may have to do with my children trying to grow up and frankly, I don’t care for it.  Earlier this year, my body decided to enter the non-child bearing years which honestly, I didn’t see coming.   I mean yea, I’m 45 and all but seriously?  My insides just looked around at each other and declared “yup, that’s it, we’re done?!”  Never thought it could happen.  I would have 10 kids if my body had cooperated and YES I am happy and FORTUNATE to have not one but TWO healthy boys to love and raise.  It’s the RAISING part that feels nearly over.  They are 8 & 12.  Now I know I came to the parenting party relatively late and that many of my friends have children who have graduated from high school or who are about to have a child reaching that (devastating) landmark so I realize I am lucky to still have children on the younger side.  But still……..

A few years back I wrote a Christmas letter about how no one ever ages where I work.  It’s true.  Every single year for the past 20 years the majority of the people I interact with have been between the ages of 18-25.  I myself was 25 when I began my work at the university.  I was “one of them.”  Somehow, they continued to remain the same age and I didn’t.  Neither did my kids.

At Thanksgiving, my 12 year old was taller than my stepmother and mother.  I myself no longer reach down to hug him, I reach out.  I guess that should be a beautiful thing but to be honest, I hate it.  His voice is deepening.  He is beginning to have the “attitude” that I SWORE no child of mine would ever have.  He puts together Legos for his brother and not for himself anymore.  He goes to movies WITHOUT ME.  WHAT?????  When the hell did that happen?!?!  His pant legs are perpetually two inches from the ground and most people think it’s because he is just growing so fast that we cannot keep up but really, part of it is because if I buy him new pants every 12 seconds I have to confront the fact that he is growing up.  He keeps asking us for a phone.  When I tell him no and that he's not old enough he says that’s not true and I just don’t want him to grow up.  (I hate it when there's truth in what he says----let’s not go crazy though, he’s still not getting a phone yet)

I understand now why the “baby” of the family is ALWAYS the baby.  It’s because if mothers ever let their “babies” grow up the world would end as we collectively know it.  My eight year old will forever be four years old in my eyes and NOT graduating up to playing flag football, NOT driving and CRASHING go carts and NOT wrestling two times a week with HEAD GEAR.  He’s just a BABY!!!!!

James always says it’s lucky that we did not have any girls.  He says this because he claims that 1.  “If you make a decision based on emotion, he cannot help you” and 2.  “A daughter would be just like the mother and there is no way there could be TWO of us in the same house.”  I am now beginning to question this logic.  I have been a student of life long enough to recognize that boys tend to grow up, get married and gravitate toward their wive’s families for their adult lives.  Well guess what?  I don’t have any girls so does this mean that both of my boys will be GONE soon?  HELP!!!!  This thought makes me crazy.  Additionally, I have listened to enough Dr. Laura to recognize that unless I bow down and kiss the feet of the girls that they may marry one day, I will have no access to the grandchildren.  This thought makes me MORE CRAZY.  (Let’s not go nuts here, I’ll do it and won’t even blink but still…….)

A few weeks ago I was in the car with the 12 year old.  I was talking about (okay, lecturing) the idea that the child needs to find SOMETHING to motivate him to get better grades.  This conversation went on pretty much like you can image it would between a 12 year old boy and his MOTHER when all of a sudden I got desperate for material.  The next thing I knew I was telling him that regardless of whether or not he gets good grades he is outta the house in five years at the ripe old age of 18.  I told him I no longer cared if he studied because frankly, I am tired of talking about it.  I went on to inform him that if he did not pay attention and try in school NOW, he will not gain command of some important pre-high school concepts, followed by high-school concepts and resulting in admittance into a college.  I told him it was fine with me if he wanted to skip college as long as he could find a job (McDonalds) didn't mind walking to work in his spiffy fast food uniform (because he couldn’t afford a car) and could NEVER again afford to go to another Cardinal game (really, have you seen those ticket prices?).  I told him he was in charge of his own destiny, he has five years left on the family payroll and good luck.

Why do I mention all of this?  I do so because in a sick kinda way I actually thought maybe that would not be so bad.   If he fails in school he would have to stay in town and never really grow up and move away.  (Not to worry,  I quickly came to my senses when I imagined him living in the basement and dealing drugs out the back door to make a living.  I also imagined the caliber of female that this M.O. would attract and that I would have to subsequently bow down to and became myself suddenly quite ill.)

The week of Thanksgiving we took the boys to Florida to Sea World, Lego Land and the beach.  They had never seen the beach and I will NEVER forget their eyes when they FIRST saw the ocean.  Hey you can read about it here in Missouri but there is no comparison to a field trip to the real deal.  They were stunned.  They were giddy.  They were…….child like.   

We have never pulled them out of school and taken them anywhere like that for two days but I felt the need then and the truth is, I continue to.  It’s like, I'm BEGGING the universe to pass me the remote control for life so I can push PAUSE!!!!!!  SERIOUSLY!  REALLY! HONESTLY!  I NEED A PAUSE BUTTON.

I think I'm having a Christmas crisis. I think I don’t want to decorate or wrap or sing or do ANYTHING because I’d rather just sit on the couch with my kids and watch movies or listen to their stories or make them a snack because time is passing and FAST.  Last month we celebrated my only living grandmother’s 90^th birthday.  That’s 90 candles.  

 

Time is FLYING people and I’d really just like it to stop.  For now, for maybe just awhile longer, I want to keep them young.  Lately, they have wanted to sleep in our bedroom with us.  Because they are so huge, there is no room in the bed so they have been camping out on our floor each night.  I know I am supposed to hate this and DEMAND that they return to their beds and not sleep on our floor because its unhealthy for them in some way and yadda yadda yadda.  Maybe there will come a time when I feel that way.  That time however, has not yet arrived.  That time is not today. 

My one wish for you this Christmas is the gift of a pause.   I think we should all ask for one.  I need to submit final grades, decorate the house, plan the holiday menu, wrap some gifts, create the clinic schedule for next semester and pay the bills.  Instead, I think I will go home and watch a Christmas movie with the kids while they still want to be in the same room with me.  Instead, I am going home to push PAUSE.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Midlife me to all of you!  

Midterm Madness

How many of you out there can relate to this?  You mark it on your calendar.  You dread it for weeks.  You secretly pray it will all be okay and then the moment of judgement comes.  The kids get in the car and you ask the dreaded question (half holding your breath and half squinting) "well........how were they?"  What you of course are referring to in late September are MIDTERM GRADES.  That day was today in my house and that day has not gone well so far.  

The 12 year old brought home A's in all of the important stuff like religion, P.E., art, music and computers (typing not programming).  Those other minor subjects like math, science, language and social studies have not fared as well so far this term.  As of now he stands a good chance at being pope (you know, if the smoke stack signal ever chose a straight A religion student from small town Missouri America) or there is still hope for truck driving school because he is not yet 16 and can still try his hand at driving.  Other than that, if we don't pick things up quickly here those are the career choices. (The eight year old cannot even fall back on truck driving school as he wrecked his go-cart this summer) The grades were NOT GOOD.  

Now let me put some things in perspective for you.  Our children are tutored twice a week to maintain AVERAGE grades.  (Remember average?  In the grade rule book a grade of "C"  is average).  My boys' baselines when left up to their own devices are way below average.  I find this to be sincerely frustrating.  Their father TEACHES  ENGLISH for a living and I am a speech-language pathologist working in higher education.  How can that even sorta result in a "C" in language class?  REALLY????

Now I know it takes a village and our villagers are working overtime.  We have two tutors, one reading teacher, one language based literacy clinician, one nun, one priest, two class room teachers and two parents who actually CARE!  Why why WHY is this not all resulting in straight As?!?  

So the husband and I have had the beginnings of the "talk" about what to do for the 2nd half of the term.  He is strongly in favor of them living Amish.  I've tried this before.  It involves completely unplugging the kids.......like from everything.  Do you know what kids DO when they are completely unplugged besides sit in their room and pretend to study for 10 minutes at a time or fall asleep?  They become your shadow and I don't mean in a good way.  I mean in a "I'm tripping on you please get off my feet" kinda way.  

Since we don't believe in beating our children the remaining options were this (blog) and create some other ways to cope.  I am taking a two pronged approach.  The first is tap into the available dead Catholic helpers.  (This one is for you Ned!)

In addition to tutors it seems like we could use some serious prayer.  Saint Thomas Aquinas is the patron saint to turn to in times like this.  It is reported that he is the patron saint of "academics, against storms, (huh?) against lightning,(good to know as I hate lightening) apologists, (not sure what that even means) book sellers, Catholic academies, Catholic schools, Catholic universities, chastity, (good to know for later occurring prayers for them) colleges, learning, pencil makers,(seriously, there is a patron saint for EVERYTHING if you look hard enough) philosophers, publishers, scholars, schools, students, theologians, universities, and (the ever important??) University of Vigo. (I wonder if they take students with bad grades?)
 
 When you look more deeply into this guy's history it turns out he was the Son of the Count of Aquino, born in the family castle in Lombardy near Naples. Educated by Benedictine monks at Monte Cassino, and at the University of Naples. He secretly joined the medicant Dominican friars in 1244. His noble family kidnapped and imprisoned him for a year to keep him out of sight, and deprogram him, but he rejoined his order in 1245.
He studied in Paris from 1245-1248 under Saint Albert the Great, then accompanied Albertus to Cologne. Ordained in 1250, then returned to Paris to teach. Taught theology at University of Paris. He wrote defenses of the mendicant orders, commentaries on Aristotle and Lombard's Sentences, and some bible-related works, usually by dictating to secretaries. He won his doctorate, and taught in several Italian cities. Recalled by king and university to Paris in 1269, then recalled to Naples in 1272 where he was appointed regent of studies while working on the Summa Theologica. On 6 December 1273 he experienced a divine revelation which so enraptured him that he abandoned the Summa, saying that it and his other writing were so much straw in the wind compared to the reality of the divine glory. He died four months later while en route to the Council of Lyons, overweight and with his health broken by overwork.(taken hastily from www.drstandley.com)

My first thought was maybe I am related to this guy.  I could defintely see myself dying overweight and overworked.  Then I remembered he was born in the family castle and there goes our familial relation.  My second thought was that maybe the 12 year old would do better if we kidnapped him and TRIED to keep him away from learning.  I mean, it worked for this guy.  Nevertheless, prayers to St. Aquinas it will be.

The second prong of my approach is to award the boys my own grades.  These kids are not star athletes or star musicians or even star citizens but they at least TRY.  For that, they deserve some A's.  Here goes:

I am awarding a grade of A to the 12 year old for sarcasm.  He does not have to study AT ALL and he is amazing with this skill.  (I wonder where he gets that?!)  He also gets an A for being afraid of the creatures from the movie Gremlins.  Seriously, he hides the DVD under 3 blankets that are topped off by his heaviest shoes and he sleeps with a bat "just in case."  He is AWESOME at eating the rolls from Colton's steakhouse so he gets an A for that too. 

The eight year old gets an A for selecting books that are WAY above his little dyslexic reading level.  Honestly, he brought me the ("mom, its a classic") Mutiny on the Bounty from the classic literature section of the playroom last night.  He tried and tried and TRIED and after an agonizing half hour of sounding out the first page he gave up.  (On another note, I am now staying up late reading it because he left it on my bed and I was too tired to move) He also gets an A for general care and compassion for all living things from his dogs to his hermit crabs AND for finding his belt everyday.  (Hey, sometimes its a reach to find material that is "A" worthy in our house)

Finally, I will give them both A's in kindness and goodness and perseverance.  No matter what we throw at them they keep TRYING and for that, I am one lucky parent. With that I will close this entry of Midlife Melissa.  At the moment I am at my office and I just called home.  "Living Amish" has begun and the 12 year old cannot quite get his head around this reality AND the fact that the Cardinals are making the playoffs.  Its gonna be a LONG few weeks.
 

St. Thomas Aquinas FEAST DAY: January 28
SAMPLE PRAYER: Through Jesus Christ's Precious, Pure and Holy name I pray. - Amen

And the boat horn blew again........

Well, with the end of Labor Day it appears as though we have officially put another summer to bed.  Many things happened during the summer of 2012.  We said goodbye to another one of my grandparents at the beginning of it.  Adam was diagnosed with dyslexia and survived a serious go-cart accident in the middle of it (Luckily, the two were in no way related!) and we ventured back to Arkansas at the end of it. 

For over 25 years my sister and I have taken a trip to Arkansas with my dad.  The tradition began back when Caterpillar tractor company shut down for two weeks every July to provide a company-wide vacation time.  Dad began to take us to a beautiful lake near Hot Springs called Lake Ouachita.  We stayed at the same resort for most of those years, a little family owned business called Shangri-La.  I have always intended to write a book about our history there and hope to call it "Growing up Ouachita" because we literally, grew up there.

My sister Molly and I learned to ski on that lake and for most of the 25 years dad had the same boat.  It took me a loooooong time to get up on skis but when I finally did, dad blew the boat horn as an auditory message to the skier that said "good job kid, you DID it."  Every year we returned to the lake and every year we skied once again.  Each time we finally "got up" dad blew the horn.  It was an expected tradition for me and one that I look back on fondly.  Years later our oldest son Alex learned to ski on the same lake and behind the very same boat. 

As we got older some things changed as they always do.  My sister is now "aunt Molly" with her own boat in Missouri and still a great skier.  My dad is retired now and living out side of Hot Springs.  He still keeps a boat on lake Ouachita, though sadly, not the same boat of our 25 + year history.  (Although this NEW boat has a slide and is a BIG HIT with the grand kids).

Last month, we were back on lake Ouachita once more and enjoying some family time boating.  Alex learned to ski several years ago and quickly became confident and perhaps a little cocky as only 12 year old boys can.  He spent lots of time watching his aunt Molly slalom ski and was frequently envious.  Dad decided that this was the year to really try and get Alex to slalom.

Learning to ski using only one can be a definite challenge for anyone, let alone the highly un-athletic like my son and myself.  The long-standing joke in our boat was that when you were learning to get up on one ski it was gonna be a "really hard pull."  Alex experienced this first hand many times.

 The great thing about this kid is that he NEVER gave up.  He never whined.  He never complained.  He just kept trying over and over and over.  Those of us in the boat circled MANY times and returned the rope to him so he could try again and again..........and again.

He was determined and as predicted, it was a REALLY hard pull.

He focused, prayed and I am sure in his head at least, he cussed just a little at the difficulty of this task  But his aunt Molly could do it and he REALLY wanted to be successful.  Many many attempts later, he finally opened his eyes to discover himself on top of the water on ONE ski.  He was so excited and you could literally read the word "pride" on his face.  He stayed up and skied for a few minutes to enjoy his new-found success before tossing the rope and giving up to drag his exhausted adolescent body into the boat.

But prior to ending his ride, as the sun set late on that August day over lake Ouachita those of us in the boat cheered as dad blew the boat horn once again.
 

Midlife total body and mind makeover: oh this oughta be good!

Okay friends, unlike my less-than-sunny disposition (acquired last Thursday, July 26, 2012 that held somewhat steady until this very moment) I am slowly working my way toward a better frame of mind. I have done a lot of thinking. I have done a lot of talking. I have even done some laughing. I am ready. According to my bitchy last post from just yesterday as I look at the calendar, I recently divulged my hatred toward the phrase "you never know what the future holds." While I still vehemently oppose the use of this phrase in my general vicinity, I WILL say that after speaking to some and laughing with others and a completely silent contemplative 3 hour drive home (in a TRUCK I had to drive no less), I am ready to admit one thing that I know for sure (as Oprah would say).

I can really only control ONE thing in my life. And as you probably all already know, the one thing I have ultimate control over, is myself. Hence, the birth of the "midlife total body and mind make over" coup.

For several months now, I have been telling James he needs to make me over into something "hot." We laugh together at this as he is not exactly a personal trainer but a middle school English teacher who is slowly losing his hair. (Don't tell him that, he will deny it to the end). The great piece to this is that he already thinks I'm "hot" and thank God for small favors because he is after all, the man I have been married to for nearly 15 years now. For years he has said that when I am 50 he is going to buy me my FAVORITE thing......a very fast, very sporty, very cool convertible to be driven by only the very "hot" at least in my mind.

Last week I had an experience which was reminiscent of a feeling I was very familiar with when I was younger......REJECTION! Trust me when I say, I honestly thought I had looooong outgrown the ability to feel that way so readily at another's hand. Let's just say, it's not something I'd like to soon if ever revisit, and leave it at that.

What will the midlife makeover consist of? I have NO IDEA but stay tuned because this girl is gonna knock it outta the park. I have no idea how long this will take me and I make no promises to that effect. But again, what I DO KNOW is that I can control the most important thing there is out there in the future.....and that's ME.

Lastly, I want to give a shout out and MANY thanks to Don who cut his evening with his parents short last week so he could talk me off the ledge via phone from his commute in his car, to Amy who answered a zillion or so texts on the topic, to James who once again, gave me his experiential advice about adveristy and life, to my sister who was just sorta "there" quietly in the background right where I needed her to be and her significant other "Lenny the Schneider" who sang and danced with me when I REALLY needed to laugh.

It has been a grueling 3 days and I am more than ready for a midlife (I turned 45 in June) makeover of body and mind. More to come, I am sure!

Sincerely, the one who is back in control.........

"You don't know what the future holds"---oh just shut up!

Twice over the past week two completely different people on as many separate occasions have felt the need to tell me "well you know Miss, no one knows what the future holds."

Why do people feel compelled to say this to me? Let's get something straight here. My baseline non-medicated attitude is that of a pessimist. This means if you tell me that you don't know what the future holds my brain immediately goes to

that phrase = something bad will happen

You see, people like me have to work EXTRA hard to combat the "glass is half empty" tendency. Tooooooo many times in my 45 years friends, lovers, co-workers and just fellow human beings have said to me (usually following some event which has caused me pain) "well yea, XYZ just happened BUT you never know what the future holds." I absolutely hate that and here's why:

When you say this to me, my pessimistic logic immediately goes to the negative side of the possibilities in the future. My brain NEVER sees the positive options. My head is broken in this sense. My thought patterns are simply NOT wired toward the positive pole. Here are some examples from my own life:

After getting dumped by a good friend or lover with whom I want more: "hey I just want to be friends (or even better), I want to have no-contact with you for now BUT, you never know what the future holds." My brain translates that into "ok, well I guess I'll never hear from him/her again" and "looks like I was not good enough for yet another homo sapien" which then quickly causes me to leap into my childhood abandonment phase where things emotionaly spiral down hill at an alarming clip.

After being told by a supervisor that I am only a staff member and not a faculty member and so therefore I am stuck in this pay scale and rank for the rest of my life BUT "who knows what will happen in the future." For me this translates into "you're STUCK sweetheart. Good luck with that and by the way, here is a whole lot of extra work for you to do for no additional money."

After losing an election for some post I really wanted : "Hello Melissa, I am sorry to inform you that you did not receive enough votes to serve as XYZ BUT keep trying because you never know what will happen in the future." My knee jerk response is "yea, I could lose again in the future. Can't wait."

After having a healthy result of a colonoscopy, the Dr. says " hey good news, all looks healthy BUT, keep a close eye on your colon because you never know what will happen in the future." Yea, what could happen in the future is that I could have a monster cancer in my colon and will have to endure all of the crap that is involved with attempting to kill it. THAT's what COULD happen in the future.

Look everybody: There is absolutely NO denying that I am a control freak. I want to be in control of what happens in the future. I abhore the option of "not knowing the future" because in the future that MY head lives in, all possible outcomes are crappy. Some would say it would just be easier to teach myself how to think positively. Believe me, I have tried. Too much has happened to my emotional self over the years to EVER warrant me consistently thinking positively about the future.

Do I still play the lottery? YES. I would consider it a cosmic slap in the face to win since negativity is my general disposition. I would soooooooo welcome that slap.

So world, unless you really DO INTEND to call me, text me, want me back in your life on a permanent basis, will give me a raise and compensate me appropriately for my contributions to the profession, will for sure elect me as the next leader of whatever and will most certainly find a cure for cancer, please please stop lulling me into a false sense of security that something "good" might happen in the future (which after all is what is implied by the whole statement)

Until I am proven wrong by someone or something that has hurt me that the contrary is in fact true, I will continue to view my glass as half empty and with water spots. (usually from my overly leaky eyes) Will I ever view the phrase as having positive outcomes? Frankly, I'm not optimistic about my odds.

Funeral bounce houses and party favors

Last month we buried my grandmother leaving me with only one left on this earth.  My friend and chair of our program is currently back in Ohio planning her mother's "celebration of life."  One of my former students recently lost her 99 year old grandmother and has been talking about it on Facebook.  I recently re-connected with a former high school sweetheart who lost his younger brother in an untimely way a few years back.  Today, Alex was asked to be a server for a military funeral held at church. Needless to say, I have been thinking of funerals a lot lately. 

Here's the deal people.  In the event of my untimely demise (and NO, I have no plans to kick off anytime soon) my funeral has got to be FUN.  That may sound strange to a lot of you but I truly mean it.  If I ever find myself with some spare time, I will go ahead and plan it officially so no one else has to worry about it.  I mean really, if you know me AT ALL, you know I love to plan an "event." And afterall, who better to plan that sucker than yours truly?!  So here's what I have in mind:

You really need to try and get to the visitation. Out of town friends:  please plan accordingly.  I want the place packed and by the way, wear what ever the hell you feel like. Is it hot outside?  I am cool with cut offs and flip flops.  Why do we get all dressed up anyway?  Its not like we take a bunch of group pictures with the corpse.  At a certain time, (and this should be announced in the paper) there will be a formal presentation led by someone with a sense of humor.   This will begin with the video picture presentation of my life in two parts.  The first part will be pictures of me from birth to my high school graduation with the background music being Barbara Streisand singing "Somewhere over the Rainbow" recorded at a concert she sang in her back yard.  The song is in my car.  The second half will be pics of my life from college on and will be set to the song, "I Sing the Body Electric" from the FAME soundtrack.  You can find that anywhere.  Now this is important because I think these things are cool to watch and this will ensure that you all actually see it versus just having it on in the "background."  I mean really, if I go to all the trouble of putting it together.......you get the picture.

Okay, this is the place where I need help.  I need people who know me to get up and tell a touching or funny story about me.  There should be plenty of the "funny" stories floating around out there.  You REALLY need to volunteer to do this as nothing looks more pathetic than no one getting up to talk about someone at a  visitation.  Don't make me assign you a part!

There should be food at this event.  Weird?  Yep.  But TOTALLY me.  How many of you think visitations would be much more fun with an open bar?  (Me, Me, pick me!)  Seriously, I am thinking heavy hors douvers and beer/wine.  This will allow my friend Amy to get up and talk because otherwise, she is too shy and she has some great stories about me.

Now, God knows, I need people praying for my successful arrival to the "other side."  Catholics:  this means you have to say a group rosary at some point.  This also needs to be posted in the paper so we can get all of the devout Catholics to the event with rosary in hand.  Plus, we need someone experienced in the Rosary to lead it.  I mean how embarrassing to get half way through that thing and lose your place or throw in one too many "Hail Marys" or something like that. Devout Catholics, you know who you are!

Kids should NOT be afraid to come to the visitation and/or funeral.  Death is a part of life and I have raised my kids to believe that when we leave here we go to one hell of a party.  They currently believe they will be in "no homework, video-game playing all day happy land" and who can blame them.  My personal heaven involves everyone who has ever loved me and a lot of food without calories all in the same place. It also involves alcohol without hangovers.  To get the kid crowd, I am thinking of renting a bounce house for outside next to the funeral home.  How cool would that be?  Then, after the formal presentation and open bar happy hour, the adults could go out and play in it.  FUN!  Be sure to take lots of pictures because that could get hysterical.

Now, for the funeral itself.  I LOVE the tradition and pomp and circumstance of the "dance around with holy water and incense and sit-stand-kneel"  about being Catholic.  I want the whole funeral mass.  Now non-Catholics, let me just say right now I'M SORRY for the hour long ordeal.  You are required to go and I cannot make it any shorter.  Deal with it. 

Music is important to me.  I want all of the singers from every mass to all get together and sing some great funeral songs from "Glory and Praise" at church.  All of the Catholic "stuff" should be thoroughly explained for the benefits of the non-Catholics throughout mass as we go by the priest, whomever that may be.  The homily needs to be funny NOT boring.  Afterall, my guests are stuck there for an hour.  Please entertain them.  Someone want to give a eulogy?  That's great.  It's all I can do not to write it myself but I'll let something be a surprise.    Again.....err on the light side. Once the mass is over, I want the song "When the Roll is Called up Yonder" played by the Statler Brothers.  Its just a cool song and those guys can totally harmonize. 

Flowers.  I like flowers.  I want it written nowhere that "in lieu of flowers."  I want it to say instead,  "In addition to flowers" and then people can donate to any childhood cancer group they like, the Speech and Hearing clinic or Mary Immaculate grade school.  I like tulips a lot and I hate orange flowers.  Run with it.

The procession of cars:  I think it is SO COOL that in life we maintain the reverent tradition of driving through town with a police escort and flashers on.  I love it that people are so respectful that they pull over to the side and let the procession pass.  In addition to your flashers, I think you should all honk your horns like people used to do after weddings. That is so NOT a joke! Let's make some noise!

All of my parties end with party favors and take home boxes of cake.  This should be no different.  I think everyone needs to leave with a party favor.  I am still working on this one.  Whatever it is, it will be cool.  You should all have a fun "take home" in addition to the "program" which by the way needs to be proof read by some one who can read.    After the Catholic cemetery prayers, you all need to go back somewhere and eat and laugh A LOT!  Little church ladies should make sure to make mostichelli (however you spell that) because that is my favorite funeral food.  If you are assigned to bring the deviled eggs, please bring twice as much as you think you need,.  Those things always go so fast!  It would be nice to have some kid food too like chicken nuggets and pizza.  In addition to tea and lemonade lets go ahead and have beer.  Why not?!

This needs to be a 3-day party.  When the time comes, let this be your guide!  Bounce houses and party favors!

My life today: Dear cheap tickets,

My life today: Dear cheap tickets,: Dear cheap tickets, My name is Melissa and lately I have been flying a lot. I don't like to fly but I refuse to allow that to limit my li...

Dear cheap tickets,

Dear cheap tickets,

My name is Melissa and lately I have been flying a lot. I don't like to fly but I refuse to allow that to limit my life in any way so I get good and drugged up before take off and continue on. I am a very organized person and I try my best to schedule my entire semester's worth of travel at the beginning of each academic term for maximum efficiency.

Today I was scheduled to fly to Orange County California. I live in the middle of a corn field so it is best that I share with you that it takes me, on average, 3 hours to get to an airport that services planes where you can sit without staring at the back of the pilot's head which is what I prefer. This is not because I have a scalp phobia but rather because I prefer to board a plane where they don't have to run to the rear of the cabin to wind it up. The other reason I fly on grown up size planes is for the classy upgraded beverage service. My preference here is for the good old fashioned cart with two operators handing out beverages versus the toy plane method where the passengers pass around a mini igloo cooler and serve themselves.

You may be wondering why I am choosing to share this with you and believe me, I am getting to that. In case you have not heard, higher education is broke. In today's economy I am lucky to have a job that I not only like but allows me the luxury of travel to some meetings that I genuinely enjoy as well as find important for my job. In an effort to save university money, I like to park and fly in Kansas City. Last night I drove to KC and spent the night to not only take advantage of the lower parking rate that hotels provide but to also avoid driving stoned because as I said, I don't fly without significant medicinal supports in place.

My flight was scheduled to leave this morning at 10:22. I arrived to the airport at 9:15 which leaves plenty of time for navigating oneself around KCI. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the check in kiosk to learn that my flight had already left. What????

It seems that there was a schedule change LAST WEEK and CHEAP TICKETS FAILED to notify me of this little tidbit of information. I was lucky though because they have another flight that promptly leaves at 4:30 and arrives in Denver at 5:17. You see, you can't fly from KC to Orange directly, you must first transfer in Denver. I am now scheduled to leave Denver at 6:15 and arrive on the West coast at 7:38. This leaves me stranded in the KC airport for the next 7 hours. Being a frequent traveler I have come prepared with many items to work on and am camped out near the US Customs and Border Protection office at the airport. This seems like the least busy place around at this time so it is nice and quiet.

I however, did NOT bring enough items to keep me busy for the entire 7 hours and this is where you come in. You see, I figure you guys owe me some form of entertainment for neglecting to notify me of this important flight change. As I said, I am sitting at the international flight arrival and federal inspection service gate all alone with the exception of one other guy and his buddy who are speaking with federal agent Curtis about his impending deportation to Somalia or Ethiopia (hes not really quite sure where) while he argues via an interpreter on a cell phone that should he fly back to his mother country his tribes' men will swiftly take his life. (you cannot make this stuff up). Anyway, that is where I am and I will wait for you here.

When you arrive we can discuss the changes to my return flight. I was scheduled to leave Orange county at 3:00 pm on Saturday and the ticket agent told me, once I was wise enough to ask, that my return flight would now leave California af 6:45 am. This will require me to leave the conference early on Saturday thus missing the morning sessions. My idea is that you will send a cheap tickets representative to attend the meeting and take notes for me on Saturday morning. This seems like the most logical way to proceed wouldn't you agree? Looking forward to seeing you soon!

All the best,

Midlife Melissa

P.S. Could you bring an electrician along with you? This place has only 4 outlets and they appear to all be on the ceiling. In the event that you cannot locate an electrician in a timely manner, perhaps you could just bring a ladder or some scaffolding to sit on or something like that. My electronic devices could use some juice.

Me + travel = putting it into perspective

In the movie "Paul Blart Mall Cop" the actor Kevin James says "I don't drink" before during and after making a complete fool of himself while drinking. If I were co-starring in this movie with Kevin, my line would have been "I don't fly."

I flew for the first time in 1985 with my French class to London. They sat us in the nose of the plane (no kidding, the space came to a point)and off we went. When we were half way there, the flight personnel began to offer us alcohol because we were far enough along to be under the auspices of the European drinking age of something like 9. I was 17 and the chaperones were all asleep. I had a beer and a motion sickness pill and slept the rest of the way.

I flew several other times in the following years and truly never had any problem. Then, in 1999 I boarded a plane to Germany to visit my dad. I had learned 24 hours before that I was pregnant with Alex. I quit caffeine cold turkey (something I do not recommend on an international flight where jet lag will most certainly be a factor) and off I went. Somehow, during that flight, I decided I was afraid to fly. I don't know if it was the fact that I was carrying a passenger of my own or the lack of a liquid stimulant coursing through my body but I was less than comfortable even WITH alcohol.

I fly a lot. I refuse to let it control my life so I take a Xanax with an alcohol chaser and off I go. Today, I arrived at the airport in Kansas City at 11:00 am for a 12:40 flight. The beauty of the KC airport is that it is extremely user friendly. There are like 5 people who work here and the luggage carousel is next to the ticketing counter. When I checked in and began to go through security I was told my plane was delayed and wouldn't I like to go have lunch? Sure. I had nothing else to do so I processed to the nearest bar and had a salad and a beer. The airport is not very big but I did have to walk from one end of the terminal to the other to find a watering hole. The bar was next to the American ticket counter. I used the restroom across from the American counter and then walked the (felt like) mile or so back to the "Frontier" gate.

I don't usually carry on luggage as I typically like to pack one outfit for everyday plus a spare for everyday and in order to pull this off I need to pack in something the size of a garbage dumpster on wheels. I don't know if it is old age or what but I significantly downsized for this trip and fit everything neatly into a carry on size piece.

Now, because I never carry on I am less than familiar with the regulation size for liquid materials. I packed toiletries like I always do and fortunately, most were in travel sizes of 3oz or less. The toothpaste was larger but my nice new security officer friend told me he would let that slide. What he could not allow me on the plane with was my shampoo and conditioner. I am in the habit of being frugal with shampoo and typically only buy 99 cent Suave products. However, last week I was having my hair cut and decided to splurge on Redkin Blonde Glam shampoo and conditioner. To say it was pricy is an understatement but I kept thinking of the commercials that Diane Keaton is in and decided I was worth it. The security officer did not agree though and my pricy blonde glam was confiscated. I began to hope that my hotel in D.C. carried shampoo AND conditioner because I hate the bottles of the 2 in 1 stuff like Pert that often come complimentary in hotels.

After being thoroughly checked for other shampoo-related terrorist belongings, I was released just in time to have the security alarm go off. Some would-be passenger had been let into the gate via some back and illegal door and the attention of the security staff went from me to the newest breech of security person. I eyeballed my blonde glam in the trash and briefly entertained the idea of re-claiming it and sneaking it on the plane. I decided against it and plopped down in a seat across from the boarding gate door. I got my phone out to begin to text my friends to pray for me because like I said, "I don't fly."

The problem is, my phone was NOT there. It was then that I turned into a crazy woman and lost my mind. I unpacked EVERYTHING right there on the floor and dumped out my purse. Nothing. I ran back to the security friend and asked if he could watch my bag while I left the secure area to look for the phone. He told me he could NOT watch my bag and had already gotten into trouble after he left me earlier in mid security check to run to the woman who had set off the alarm. I don't think we are friends anymore.

I RAN out of the terminal and sprinted the mile back to the bathroom where I had been. It was not there. I ran 180 degrees in the opposite direction to the Frontier counter to see if anyone had turned in a phone. As I ran past my gate I noticed that the boarding line was dwindling. The Frontier ticket agent told me to pick up a white phone and call airport security so I did. The nice security man on the phone told me he did not have my phone but if I gave him the number he would call it. I gave him the number and waited. Then I told him my phone was OFF. Wow. I am not even a REAL blonde.

I ran the mile back in the opposite direction to the American counter where my restroom was and got in line. Sweat is pouring down my face. Makeup is running onto my white turtle neck and my lower lip is quivering. I finally get to my turn in line and heave myself and all of my belongings toward the agent and ask if anyone had turned in a cell phone. My agent did not have it........but the agent next to him DID. I missed my flight and slumped away to a chair outside the American terminal.

As tears streamed down my face mixing in with the running makeup I found myself staring at a cement wall. I have no idea how long I sat like that but eventually my phone, now in my hand, vibrated. I looked down to see a text message that said "this is airport police. If you find this phone please call this number." I started to cackle and laughed myself silly for 10 minutes. People stared and I made my way the mile back to the Frontier counter and changed my ticket to the next flight to D.C. I was originally scheduled to leave at 12:45 and then 1:30. My new departure time is 6:40 pm. I have been sitting in this airport for 4 hours already and I have another 3 to go. Things could always be worse. The KC airport has free WIFI allowing me to blog and receive papers from students via e-mail to grade. I have my health and the streaks on my face have dried. My blonde glam hair is beginning to unstick itself from the back of my neck and soon I plan to get up and look for an outlet to charge the phone that was thankfully found.

I don't fly.