This is not a post about weight.  In fact, it has more to do with eating food than dieting or getting fit.  You see, I'm a stress baker.   Since March, I have gone through close to 90 lbs of flour, 20 lbs of sugar, and a pound of yeast (and for anyone who knows anything about yeast this is crazy!)  I have made dozens upon dozens of cookies.  I have baked more loaves of bread than I can count.  I started making my own sub buns, which my family now expects as opposed to just buying them at the store.   I’m pretty sure my friends and neighbors are getting sick of the amount of treats I’m leaving on their door steps!  

In  addition to baking, I’ve been making soup.  I’ve made more soup this year than in the past, which is funny since I’m the only one who eats it.  I have been making chicken stock and freezing it to use in different recipes instead of having to buy canned.  I’ve mentioned before that my mom is not a baker and doesn’t make much from scratch, but one thing she always made from scratch was chicken soup.  I love my mom’s chicken soup.  It’s my comfort food.  Two years ago, I finally asked my mom for the recipe.  The first time I made it, it was awful.  I mean it was almost inedible.  My mom asked me about fat on it.  Now, I remember my mom getting excited about the fat on her soup and I always thought it was weird.  Even that first time she asked me, I thought it was odd.  No, there's no fat on it.  My mom told me it needed fat for the flavor.  I still thought she was insane.  I KNEW I could make soup like hers and not have the fat.  It’s been so ingrained in us that fat is bad. So, I tried again.  This time a tiny layer of fat formed.  It was so small, it was hard to scrape off without just mixing it back in.  This time, the soup was slightly better.  Maybe there was something to what my mom was saying.  The more I made the soup, the better I got at it and the more fat there was.  There’s a trick to this, but I’m not giving up my secrets.  My mom was definitely right, the flavor comes from the fat.  My soup has gotten much more flavorful since I started making it.  It’s actually pretty darn good.  It’s still not my mom’s, but it never will be.  I’m pretty sure she adds extra love to it to make it special for me.  

Last week, a friend asked for soup recipes.  I gave her my amazing tortellini soup recipe.  After I gave it to her, she told me the soup was for a friend of hers that is dying.  Her friend wants soup, so she is making sure her friend gets soup.  I told her that if she could give me a week to get the ingredients, I would happily make my chicken soup for her.  Monday I got started.  I roasted the chicken that morning and had soup by the evening.  Tuesday morning when I pulled it out of the fridge, there it was, the most glorious fat layer that my soup has ever gotten.  I was way too excited about this fat.  I shared with my kids and made them look at it.  They were not impressed.  As I scraped that fat layer off, I felt a huge sense of pride.  This was by far my best batch of soup I’ve made, and to make it even better, it’s going to (hopefully) brighten someone’s day.  

It was in that fat layer that I realized I’m so lucky because I still find joy in the small things.  That fat layer inspired me to bake 5 loaves of bread and 5 dozen cookies yesterday.  My kitchen looked like a tornado went through and I was exhausted by bedtime, but it was worth it.  I dropped cookies off to friends, froze two loaves of zucchini bread, gave a neighbor lemon bread, got a loaf of Italian Herb and Cheese ready to go with the soup, and sliced a loaf of Italian Herb and Cheese for us for dinner.  Husband came home and looked around and commented on how every surface in the kitchen had bread on it.  It did and it felt great.  

It’s the little things, like the fat layer, that help me make it through the day.  It’s why I’ve been baking so much.  It’s the little things I can control and, hopefully, brighten someone’s day.  

​

This started out as an email to friend.   Lately, I've been going down a dark path.  Trying to just choose another path is not as easy as it seems.  My anxiety is on high alert and it keeps pulling me further in.  I've written about how I use lists as one coping mechanism for my anxiety, but, lists weren't even helping anymore.  I was also tired of hearing from my dad and husband, "It's out of your control".  Logically, I know most of my big worries are out of my control, but right now, everything out of my control is so overwhelming, it's all consuming.  So, I decided to make a list, really two:  Things I Can Not Control and Things I Can Control.  I told my friend this and she made the comment, "I don't know about you, but when my mind starts running away, being intentional about keeping my thoughts on the present helps me".  This is where my email began.

I can no longer focus on the big picture because I can't make it through my day trying to look at all things.  My lists took a turn from things I can and can not control, to baby steps on how to control parts of my day.  I started my list with "I can not control the spread of COVID.  I can do my part and wear a mask and distance."  Then I wrote, "I can not control the actions of others.  I can control how I respond to them."  I looked at these two very big things and was instantly overwhelmed again.  So I decided to go smaller.  "I can not control my thyroid issue, but I can drink more water."  To someone looking in from the outside, those two things may not go to together, but in my mind, they make sense.  I continued with little things like this.  Then, I just dropped what I can't control.  My list has things on it like, "I can remember to take my vitamins", "I can wash towels every Monday", "I can take a few extra moments to walk things upstairs instead of putting them on the steps.".  Little tiny changes.  Little tiny things I have full control over.  Looking over my lists, I now have so many things that I not only can control, but have a plan of how to control them.  As I go to throw something on the steps, I stop, and say, "Live with intent.  I can take this upstairs."  I have been doing this all of two days, so it's going well so far.  I think the biggest part is I stop.  I breathe.  I think.  

I still have my daily lists to help keep my on track.  Having another list I can go to and look at is more about my mental well-being than washing my kids' clothes or making chicken soup.  My lists can go hand in hand.  Making chicken soup is good for my soul because it's going to a friend who is taking it to her dying friend (I can not control cancer, but I can make someone feel loved).  By my kids' clothes being clean, I have less back up of laundry and less dirty socks laying on my stairs.   Even with things shutting down, my life is not moving at a slower pace.  In fact, it is moving so much faster because of the added responsibilities I am faced with.  We now need to balance WiFi in the house, and let me tell you, every last thing we have seems to be on WiFi, so it's not an easy task.  We need to make sure that we do not double book the dojo/dance studio (aka living room) if anyone is quarantined and needs to go virtual (yes, this has happened).  There are so many more things to balance out that life was suddenly unbalanced.  

I am trying to regain my balance.  I am living my life with intent.  The thing about intent is that it is different for everyone.  What I need is not what my friend needs.  It is not what my mother needs.  It is not what anyone else in my household needs.  And that's OK.  I can still do what I need to do for me and be there for them.  Baby steps.  Stop.  Breathe.  Start again.
​

I was about 2 when I learned how to call my grandparents by myself.  Even at that young age, I would call my grandpa to come pick me up when I didn't want to be home.  There was something about my grandparents' house that gave me comfort.   My grandpa would always come get me when I asked.  My grandpa died when I was 7.  Honestly, a piece of me died all those years ago with him.  He was my comfort and that comfort left.  I was extremely close to my grandma, but it was a little harder because she didn't drive. I knew I could always call her and I would ask my mom to go to her house.  When I got old enough, I would walk the several miles to my grandma's house from my house.  She was my safe place to go.  When I was sad, I would go there.   By the time I had my own car, my grandma was in a nursing home.  I would still go visit her, but I knew she was slipping away.  She was becoming a shell of who she used to be.  My grandma passed away when I was 21, but my place to find comfort had left long before that.  No matter how much I miss my grandparents, I will always, always be grateful that they would drop what they were doing to come pick me or just spend time with me.  

Everyone needs people in their lives to "come pick me up".  I was able to rely on my parents, but it's different.  Kids need people other than their parents to go to for comfort.  I was so fortunate to have my grandparents.  Husband had his grandparents, too, at least while they lived in Ohio.  I’m not sure my kids would even know who to call to “come pick me up”, other than us.  My daughter, I feel, would call either of her best friends’ moms.  She would feel bad about it and not really do it unless it were an emergency, but she knows she can rely on them.  Monster, he has no one.  While Grandpa was living in Ohio, he would call on him, but Monster didn’t like to bother him.  My kids know they can always run over to Aunt C and Uncle J’s house, but, again, they wouldn’t want to bother them.  It breaks my heart that my kids feel like they are a bother to people.  

Times have changed so much that the villages people used to have to help raise their kids have gone away.  I feel that there are a lot of kids out there like my kids.  I know that Sunshine’s best friend has no one to call other than her parents.  It gets me thinking, I really hope she knows she can call on me.  In fact, with any of my kids’ friends, I am happy to be the person they call.  It’s been a while since we discussed it, but back in 6th or 7th grade, I let my friend’s daughter know she could always call me to come pick her up from a party or someplace if she didn’t want to call her parents.  With COVID, no one is going anywhere, but I feel like I need to remind her that’s still the case.  

We all need a soft place to land.  Someone who you are not living with day in and day out. Over the years, I’ve had different “come pick me up” people in my life and I am thankful for each one of them, even if we are no longer in each other’s lives.

​

My original title for this post was "Boys' Club", but, in light of her passing, I felt this would be a better fit.  No matter what political stance you take, if you are female or raising a female, Ruth Bader Ginsburg's passing should have made you feel at least some sort of sadness.  She was pioneer for women's rights.  She fought for equality.  She was a leader in infiltrating the "Boys' Cub".  

Maybe I notice gender bias more because I'm female.  Maybe I notice it more because, in college, we were actually taught how to include girls in the classroom.  Let that sink in for a moment.  Just 20 years ago, they were teaching how to include girls in the classroom.  Maybe it's because I'm raising an independent female.  Yet, there are certain areas that still are geared heavily towards men, and I notice.

Coaching soccer is one of these areas.  I am one of the few female coaches in our division.  Before this season, my daughter played in an all female league.  We have all females being coached by mostly males.  I am not saying there is anything wrong with that.  In fact, the dad I coach with is awesome.  We have a great system and work very well together.  I'm fairly certain that if he didn't treat me as his equal, his wife would kick his butt.   Whether they realize it or not, male coaches treat female coaches differently.  There is one coach that won't even acknowledge my presence on the field.  He will walk right over to our male coach, chat with him and never once look at me, even though I am standing directly next to our male coach. Maybe he doesn't even know he's doing it (I'm fairly certain he does), but he's teaching not only the girls on his team, but on ours as well, that males deserve more respect than females. 

This year, thanks to COVID, our league has become co-ed.  A lot of girls' parents were not happy with this.  A lot of them said they wouldn't have signed their daughters up if they would have known.  The reason for this is because, especially at this age, boys think they are better than girls.  Period.  Society has definitely shown boys they are more valuable, so, at this age, boys are testing the waters of how to treat females.  I am highly impressed with the boys on our team this far.  For the most part, they don't act like they are better than the girls.  That being said, my daughter noticed something I didn't.  At the beginning of practice, to help everyone with names, we do a passing circle.  After our last practice, Sunshine mentioned how all of the boys, except one, always passed to other boys.  Looking back on it, she's right.  At the time, I thought nothing of it.  The girls mostly pass to girls, but it's not just one of them who will pass to a boy.  There was only one boy who would get the ball and pass to a girl.  We have yet to play a game, but in scrimmages, our boys pass to our girls, which is more than one of them teams we scrimmaged.  

The "Boys' Club" does not only apply to sports, but since it's our daughter that does most of the sports in our family, it's where I see it most.  Sunshine's tennis coach is male.  The majority of Sunshine's softball coaches (she's played since age 4) have been male.  Soccer referees, ski instructors, basketball coaches, karate instructors, all mostly male.  While we have famous women who play all sorts of sports, there are very few women who are coaching our girls at a local level.  

My father is the one who taught me to fight to break that glass ceiling.  He taught me that I am just as tough as any boy and I can do anything.  Even with that, I watch how he treats my son and my daughter differently.  I am sure he doesn't even realize he's doing it.  Society just has it ingrained in us that girls can't do the same things boys.  

Outside of sports, I have to fight hard to be seen as an equal.  My husband likes to tell the story of when we were buying our first vehicle together.  It was actually his car, but I went along shopping.  The salesman made a specific point to show me that the sun visors had mirrors on them so I could do my make up.  Anyone who knows me personally knows how funny this is just to begin with, but this poor salesman did not know what he was about to get.  I nodded my head and batted my eyes, since it was very obvious that's what he expect.  We went back to his office to negotiate and Husband just sat back, knowing what was coming.  I had every last fact and detail about that Jeep.  I asked questions that the men are normally asking.  I laid into the guy who wanted to sell me a vehicle based on mirrors.  Don't ever underestimate a woman, especially one you just insulted.  

Since I'm currently the one at home all the time, I'm the one who has to deal with the majority of issues that arise.  In so many areas, I need to fight for the men to even take me seriously.  When I find professionals who treat me like an equal, I tend to stick with them.  We've had the same plumbers for 17 years because, even when I have poop soap bubbles covering the walls and pouring out for the toilet due to a YouTube video (pro tip, don't ever put Dawn down your toilet, no matter what YouTube says), they don't treat me like I'm a stupid girl who doesn't know anything.  We fired a roofing company because the guy kept calling me "Sweetheart" and refused to actually explain things to me.  We changed heating/cooling companies because the salesman they sent out would not give me a quote on what I asked for since I knew nothing about furnaces and air conditioners.  I may not know how to install it, but I know what I want and I'm capable of understanding the mechanics of the units when they are explained.  

It's not just strangers I have to fight with to be taken seriously.  My kids go to my husband with their math, science, and history questions.  I graduated in the top 10% of my high school class. I graduated from college with Honors.  I took higher levels of math and sciences than my husband, yet, my kids go to him.  Language Arts?  They come to me.  I don't mind the kids going to my husband for homework help because, honestly, it's one less thing on my plate, but I don't like that they feel I'm incapable of helping.   

It's been an interesting transition in my "professional" (I use that term loosely since I'm still figuring out what I'm doing in life) world to watch the evolution of the "Boys' Club", as well.  When I started out teaching, the majority of elementary school teachers were female.  They actually still are.  Yet, the administration was mostly male.  At the time, I worked under one of the one only female principals in our district.  Twenty years later, there has been a noticeable shift.  There are many more female principals, still mostly elementary level,  but there are more.  In the districts around me, we have yet to see a female superintendent, but I feel like education is an area that women can more easily gain access to "male" roles.  Breaking into the world of technology, that's more difficult.  I am capable of doing the same work as a man, but people have less confidence in a woman when it comes to technology.  Sure there are things I don't know how to do, but it has nothing to do with my gender, just my experience.  Husband is a computer guy, but in a different way that what I do.  I can build websites and do online marketing, whereas he can make the physical computer work and create different programs.  They are two completely different areas and still people see him as more competent with computers than me.  Every day, females are breaking into typical male careers, but they need to fight so much harder to show their worth.

As a parent, I take my job very seriously.  I need to be raising a girl who sees no limits.   I need to be raising a boy who is a gentleman, yet sees females as equals.  It's not an easy task.  We teach so many contradictory things that are societal norms.  Add in people not knowing the difference between bossy and leader, and you have a bunch of egocentric males and females who are just fighting for personal gain.  

The death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg should make anyone who has a female in their life and wants to see them succeed, cringe.  It should make you think about who you want to be.  Who you want your wife to be.  Who you want your daughter to be.  Who you want your granddaughter to be.  If you want a world of subservient women,then I guess you're happy.  If you want strong, empowered females, then get out and make a difference.  Let the women in your life know they can do and be anything.  More importantly, support them on their journey and put an end to the "Boys' Club."

Thank, you RBG, for all that you did for women. 

For the Fourth of July this year, we headed to my mother-in-law's house in Chautauqua.  Normally, Chautauqua is our Labor Day getaway.  We head up and spend time with my mother-in-law.  We fish, site-see, shop, and relax.  That trip is not going to happen this year, thanks to this awesome pandemic.  So, my mother-in-law offered up her house to us this weekend.  Just the 4 of us, well, 5 if you count Girl.  It was definitely different, but much needed time away.  We took all of our food with us so that we didn't have to go to the store.  The only stop we made was our way into town to buy worms.  Let me say, NY is doing t a great job of masks and social distancing, just from that one stop.  After we got there, we didn't leave the property until it was time for us to head home.  

It was a hot, hot weekend.  We spent our time fishing in the cooler morning and evening hours.  We stayed inside playing games and watching TV the rest of the time.  Yes, I said watching TV.  People who know me know we don't watch much TV in this house.  One day, the boy and I spent 6 hours watching the Twilight Saga.  SIX HOURS.  And it was heaven.  My rule was we don't discuss COVID.  We don't discuss the horrible situation that is going to be school this year.  We don't discuss people's lack of belief in science.  We don't discuss how the guy who failed out of science in HS is going around telling people that COVID can be cured with blood thinners.  We don't discuss how it's all a hoax the entire world is in on.  We don't discuss anything other than what we, our little family,  are doing in the moment.  

It was pure bliss.  And then we came home.  

As we pulled in onto the square of our small town, i broke down in tears.  There it all was.  Our new reality.  People with masks, people without.  People listening to science, people saying it's a hoax.  People yelling about their kids must go to school, people pulling their kids out to go online.  People gathering in large groups, people completely isolating.  There has stopped being an in between, so when you're one of the in between people, the amount of anger that is directed at you from both sides is immense and completely overwhelming.  It makes you question your every choice.  

As we drove the short mile home from our town center, I was smacked in the face with the realization that things will never be "normal" again.  There are rifts that are now so deep that they can not be forged.  We are all broken so badly that we can't heel.  Suddenly, caring for each other has become political, and I'm not just talking about masks vs no masks.   I have seen the shift in values for some time.  I've seen how more and more people are out for themselves.  I've seen how more and more people have regressed into the egocentric stage of life.   This pandemic, instead of bringing people together, split them more apart.  You clearly see hard lines, where before, they were fluid.  I do not fit into this new "normal".  My heart is one of giving and helping and it's breaking watching what is happening.  

We are all fighting a losing battle.  Each one of us, no matter what you are fighting for.  Until we can all figure out how to come together, how to compromise, THIS is our new normal.  Let that sink in.    
​

My Sweet Baby Angel,

This year has been one crappy year.  Three broken toes, a tooth knocked out, and then, 2020, just in general so far.  Yet, through all of it, your positive light has shone through.  You have been able to find the good through it all.  

I am so proud of the young man you are becoming.  You have such a huge, caring heart.  You are the best big brother a girl could ask for.   You are reliable and responsible.  

I'm so proud of you for trying, and excelling, at new things this year.  You found a love for snowboarding.  You were an office aide.  You were chosen as a student presenter at the Made In Medina County Fair.  You are taking on more responsibility at karate by teaching classes.  You have a live app published in the Google Play store.  These are huge accomplishments.  You do all this while maintaining a 4.3 GPA.  

This year is going to be a year of so many changes.  First, it's a crazy year to begin with.  Who would have thought there would be a global pandemic where you need to finish school online?  In fall, you start high school, but we're still unsure of what that's going to look like.  Whatever it is, we're pretty sure it won't be "normal".  Whatever it is, though, you will be amazing.  You are such a great student who loves to learn.   

I truly wish this summer could be a "normal" summer where we go out and do all of the fun, wonderful things we do.  However, the world has drastically changed in the past 3 months and we're living a new normal.  You will make the best out of this summer because it's who you are.  You will not look at all of the things we can not do, but you will appreciate all of the things we can do.  I love that about you.  

Even though I'm sad at the current state of our world, I'm excited to see what this year has in store for you.  I know that what ever comes your way, you will do great things.  

Don't ever forget who you are and remain true to that. 

I love you forever.

Mommy

Soccer has been a part of life for many, many years.  I played soccer when I was younger.  I loved it.  I was not the best player.  I could hold my own.  I couldn't score a goal for anything, but was a good at defense because I wasn't afraid to get hurt (as the ER in my hometown learned).  The older I got, though, the less confident I got in myself.  The less confident I got, the more I didn't want to put myself out there.  So, soccer became something I played in my backyard.  It got to the point where I wouldn't even play with Husband anymore.  

Then, I had kids.  I live in a big soccer town.  Where I grew up, soccer wasn't popular, so having my kids be able to start soccer so young was crazy to me.  We started Monster in soccer when he was 4.  He liked it.  Thought it was fun enough.  He even went to soccer camp for two years that was run by Otto Orf.  If you ever watched soccer in Cleveland as a kid, you would know going to a camp run by Otto Orf is pretty damn cool.  Since her big brother did it, of course, Sunshine also wanted to play soccer.  Back when she was little, soccer wasn't open to anyone under 3.  We got permission to sign her up at age 2. 

​We only had one season where both kids were in soccer.  Monster decided he didn't like the competitiveness of it, so he was done  Sunshine, well she loved it.  We spent many seasons playing on some awesome teams with some amazing coaches.  All of those coaches kids eventually moved on to travel or club soccer.  We chose to stay with rec soccer since Sunshine is also in dance and softball.  Since so many coaches left our league, a friend of ours decided that he was going to coach.  I told him if he did, I'd assist.  I had sworn, after a horrible season of coaching my darling darling daughter in t-ball, that I would never coach one of her teams again.  Yet, here I was,  years later, coaching soccer.

Never did I imagine how big of a part of my life coaching would become.  When soccer was cancelled this season, not only was I sad for Sunshine, but I was sad for myself.  I love coaching.  Coaching brings me the same joy that teaching did when I first started teaching, back in the day when teachers could actually teach instead of muddle through all the bureaucracy.  Of course I love watching my daughter play.  She's come so far and is fierce on the field, but I also love watching the team play.  I love seeing the girl who was timid and scared of the ball her first few times playing steal and make an amazing pass.  I love watching the girls run plays that we did in practice and work together as a team.  I love watching them grow into amazing players.  I love getting to know the personalities of our girls and pushing them to step outside of their comfort zones because I can see where they will excel, even when they don't yet see it.  It helps that the person I coach with is also great.  We work well as a coaching team.  We balance each other out.  Over the past several seasons, our team has gotten to be extremely tough to beat.   This season, with most of our players coming back to our team, we could have been undefeated.  Being undefeated isn't important, but showing the girls how they work as team is.  Our first season coaching, only two of the girls had ever played together, the other coach's daughter and Sunshine.  It was a little difficult for the two of them to work with their team because they knew they could rely on each other.  We got a lot of kids on our team who were new players.  We didn't win a single game.  Next season, we had returning players, so they knew how to work together a little more.  Each season, we had more and more parents request us coaches.   Fall season, half of our players actually played up a division just to be on our team.  That makes you feel like you're doing something right.  It wouldn't have mattered if our team was undefeated or not.  These girls have finally come to work as a true team and they were robbed of that this season.  

I would love to say that Sunshine and I spent our time off the fields fine tuning her foot skills, but we did not.  Coaching your own kid is hard.   She and I have gotten to the point where we only have one argument during a game per season, but practices are different.  She does not like being told what to do by her mom.  She does not like the critiquing of her skills, even though I'm doing to same thing to each player.  At home, it's impossible to get her to do anything with me.  I don't force it because I don't want her to lose the love of the game.  Instead, I let her get out there and have fun and play with her brother and father and I try to keep my mouth shut.  

I'm crossing my fingers that fall soccer happens.  I can't wait to be with my team again.  I never thought this would become such a big part of my life and I'd miss it so much.

​

This summer was supposed to be filled with more adventure.  More freedom.   Before all this, we even let the kids have a "test run" of what they'd be allowed to do and where they could go.  They rode their bikes to the gas station and bought candy.  The ice cream shop is just across the street from there, and that was another place they'd be allowed to go on their own.  The boy was given permission to go even further and head to the store that's just another mile down the road.  This would be the first summer that Sunshine was allowed to ride to her friends' houses without her big brother following behind and coming to pick to her up.  This was also the summer of getting outside and trying new things.  My shoulder is stronger now, so we were going to go paddle boarding and kayaking.  We discovered we love museums, so this was to be the summer to head down to Columbus and go to new places, like Otherworld.  We were supposed to go to Cedar Point.  At this point, very few of these things look possible. Already, camps have been cancelled and softball is iffy.   It's sad when my kids going into the gas station to buy candy and riding to friends' houses to play are some of the things that may not be possible for the summer.  

We don't know what things are going to look like this summer.  We don't know when or if things will be back to how the where.  We can keep our fingers crossed that summer remains our time.  That summer remains special.   We realize that some of things may not happen, but we are allowed to remain optimistic that they could.  We changed our bucket list to the things we hope we are able to do and seem more realistic in this crazy time.  

So, with that, our annual summer bucket list:​

• Berry picking
• Swim
• Hike
• Play with friends
• Ride bikes
• Get ice cream
• Go to the library
• Relax
• Be Happy