WC #19:Renewing my Relationship with Richard!

I just completed my second workout in as many days with Richard Simmons! Now, I know that's absolutely nothing to brag about. But for me to exercise at all, let alone two days in a row... that IS something to brag about.

And most of you would probably say "Richard Simmons?!?!? Really?!?" I know. He's crazy and he's obnoxious and he really doesn't look good in his little out-dated gym shorts and tank top, but for some reason, his is the ONLY exercise program that works for me. (Well, water aerobics does too, but you kinda have to have a swimming pool to pull that off...)

So, I figured if I blogged about it, maybe that would make me more committed and I would actually keep it up, because I can make any excuse to not exercise work for me. Why now? I guess just because it's time. I'm tired of being out of breath when I climb a flight of stairs. I'm tired of wondering if I'll need an extender to the seat belt on an airplane. And I have 15 1/2 (grandbaby #16 is due in April!) adorable reasons to want to stick around a bit longer. Now that all of my kids have completed their educational goals and have families of their own, I want to be around to see my grandbabies graduate from high school & college, go on missions and begin families of their own.

Me with Grandbabies 1-15
May, 2014

I was never a "skinny" kid; solid, I guess, would be the word to describe me when I was little. I was also pretty popular; as much as a first/second-grader could be. 

My mom had always been involved at the school with my older brothers, so all the teachers and principal knew who I was. I would get the "lead" in the little class plays we did; I had the only solo when our class went Christmas caroling to the other classes; I had a best friend and several other friends in the neighborhood and at school recess, AND all through first and second grade, I had at least one boyfriend all the time. (One used to get other boys to let him sit by me during story time so he could put his arm around me and rub my back! Scandalous!)

Then, at the end of second grade, we moved to the farm. As much as I loved the farm, I was lonely with no neighbors. At school, I was the new kid and not only did no one know me, no one knew my mom. The school bus was terrifying and I developed a severe case of separation anxiety (aka school phobia---it's real; it's in my psychology books). The panic attacks, throwing up and diarrhea from the nerves all gave me plenty of excuses to not go to school, but then I would find myself alone in the house as my mom would be in the barn or the fields helping my dad with chores. I began to find solace in food and by fifth grade was horrified to be weighed in at school at 120 pounds. I learned to ridicule and make fun of myself so it didn't hurt so much when the kids at school did it.

Thus began my life-long struggle with my weight. There have only been two periods of time in my life when I felt acceptable with my weight. The first was in high school when I lost weight only because of the emotional stress of watching my mother die of cancer. The sad thing was, at the time, I didn't KNOW I had even lost weight... I still thought I was fat even though I was thirty pounds lighter than I'd been in sixth grade! Fortunately, swimming/water skiing in the summer and mandatory gym classes with weight training and tennis helped me to maintain my weight through the rest of high school although I still saw myself as fat.

That's me in the swimsuit
cover-up!

My weight fluctuated by 10-15 pounds through college, but I was always able to take it off until after I had my first daughter. From that time, extra pounds just seemed to be my constant companion. In fact, when I was concerned about the fact that I had gained no weight at all by the end of my sixth month of pregnancy with my twins and I asked the doctor if I should be worried, his response was "No. The babies are getting all the nutrition they need from your diet. You're living off your fat." As rude as that sounds, he was absolutely right and after my boys were born, I weighed forty pounds less than I did before I got pregnant with them! 

With my 5 babies!
November, 1984

My weight was always a concern for my husband who used such endearing terms as "Blubber Buns" or "Thunder Thighs" when addressing me. In an attempt to make him happy and save myself some emotional abuse, I put myself on a strict program of  "Sweatin' to the Oldies" and following the "Deal-a-Meal" program with Richard Simmons. That was 1991. I lost eighty pounds and learned to maintain it for over four years until I broke my ankle and could no longer exercise. I gained a little weight during that time, but the pounds didn't come on full force until Randy decided to leave and said he wanted a divorce. 

My "reason" to care about my weight or how I looked was gone and now I needed to worry about supporting my family on my own. Let's face it, it's much quicker, easier and cheaper to cook unhealthy, fattening meals than it is to eat healthy... plus I craved all those comfort foods from my childhood. That was 1996, so now I've hated myself and made excuses for myself for eighteen years. I have at least a hundred pounds to lose and that scares me too! What happens to all that skin if I manage to lose the fat that's had it stretched for so long? That's been an excuse as well...

Anyway, so now I'm turning back to "Richard." My relationship with him worked well in the past... in fact, that's the only thing that HAS worked... so please don't roll your eyes at me. Don't make fun of it. Just support me and be glad that I still like my "oldies" music and as jiggly and uncoordinated as I may be, I still like to dance.

WC #18:Pardon me while I vent!

Do ya ever just have one of those days... or even just a few hours that just make you want to pull your hair out... or scream???

I can't say my whole day was bad. It just turned bad after I got off work at 7:30 tonight. First of all, why was I working 'til 7:30 on a Saturday night? You'd think after 22 years I could work a Monday-Friday 8-5 job, wouldn't you? Yeah. Well, I'm a dedicated glutton for punishment. Every time I'm lucky enough to take a position that lets me work that shift, they change the job requirement or I decide to go for something new and exciting that puts me right back on evenings/nights and weekends! What a shmuck I am!

When I took my facilitator position in Seattle, it was indeed Mon-Fri, 8-5 with overtime pay for anything I worked over that and premium pay if I worked on a Sunday. Nice! Then I was part of a pilot program to train assistant managers in the REAL world of Walmart. Back I go to some weekend days, one second shift and a couple overnights in an 8 week training class.

Now that I work at the Talent Center and we run two classes of 30 at a time, we work opposite shifts so we aren't doing the same activities at the same time. Since my first class (May-June) was first shift, starting at 8 AM every day, this class (June-July) is second shift, starting at 10 every day. (Except of course our 2nd shift day and our overnight). Anyway today was a "host store" day when the trainees had to work in the host stores shadowing associates on the front end. They have to spend time at the service desk, following customer service managers, working with cashiers, pushing shopping carts out of the parking lot, cleaning bathrooms and mopping floors with maintenance, etc. I always enjoy this day, because at least for that one day, they all know what it feels like to be those associates and gain more appreciation for them. In Seattle, every time we did this, they were all pushing carts on windy, cold, rainy days. Today it was 96 degrees and HUMID!!! (Sorry if I'm sounding a bit sadistic right now... but I do enjoy seeing them really working beside the associates.)

Anyway... It was a really good, productive day. They were working; they were smiling; and they were learning. When I got off work tonight, I decided to take advantage of the fact that I was actually working IN a store. I miss that at the Talent Center... most of our boxes are empty shells for training purposes and our coolers don't work, so we certainly don't have milk and eggs!
So, I begin leisurely shopping. No reason to hurry home; no one was here, so I took my time. When I was done, I headed to the registers... that's when the day went downhill...

I chose a lane with one woman with the cashier and a man with half a basket he was unloading. It was the shortest and didn't look too bad. Then I realized the woman was ad matching EVERY SINGLE ITEM in her basket! She had a notebook with a list and every competitor's price in the ads and read the price of every item to him. Then I realized the man was with her... so now her order was a cart and a half full! Did I mention that I was REALLY shopping for the first time since moving into my new apartment in Texas? REALLY shopping for me includes some Stouffers dinners, some lean cuisine, frozen hamburger patties and so I can have an occasional Saturday night date, Ben & Jerry were there too! So with each ad match, I'm thinking... my food is melting! Then I'm thinking of the irony of it all... I spent most of last week teaching food related processes to the trainees, more specifically "cold chain" and the fact that cold/frozen food couldn't be out of the cooler for more than 20 minutes!

Then I realize that NOT A SOUL anywhere near me spoke English as a first language. Now I'm not a snob. I enjoy learning about other cultures and respect their languages; even admire their ability to speak their native language and English. A few months before I left Seattle, I had even purchased a conversational Spanish course so that I could learn basic phrases to be able to communicate with customers and some of my trainees better. I didn't feel DRIVEN to learn it, just thought it would be a good idea since I was having more trainees from southern California who spoke Spanish. In Seattle, I was surrounded by people who spoke different languages; especially Filipino dialects, Samoan & Russian. When I found out I was moving to Texas, I thought "Good thing I bought that Spanish course... I better get to work..."

Anyway, so I was standing in this line FOR-EVVVVV-ERRRR, and realized that the family in front of me with the ad matches was speaking Spanish (except for the prices on each item... she could say those well enough in English). Then I looked at the family in line behind me and realized they were speaking Chinese. And when it was finally my turn to check out, my cashier had such a thick Arabic accent (his name was Allaudin, by the way), I had to keep saying "What?" or just nodding my head and smiling like an idiot whenever he said anything to me! I'm beginning to think that I won't be able to communicate verbally with anyone by the time I die!

So, I finally got checked out, got my groceries into the car and headed for home. Have  GPS will Travel! Yeah... I'm still learning my way around and it was only the second time I'd been to this store. Anyway... so I was driving home, in the "slow" lane since I didn't know where I was going, but I was still going 10mph OVER the speed limit and this jackass decides to ride my bumper. Two open lanes to my left and he has to ride my bumper in the right lane!!!! I have developed a new philosophy for driving in Texas. If you're going to be a jackass and ride my bumper in the right lane, when I'm going the speed limit or faster and you have PLENTY of room to go around me, I'm going to PURPOSELY go 10 mph BELOW the speed limit just to piss you off!!! And that's exactly what I did! Odd thing was, when I slowed down to 50, he backed off! Say what?!?!?!?! Yep. He stayed behind me for at least 2 miles at 50 mph before he finally pulled into the other lane and zoomed past me! I think he had issues. Course, maybe I did too... road rage Carol style!

I finally got home, unloaded my groceries and put my floppy frozen pizza in the freezer, my warm gallon of milk in the fridge and dished up a bowl full of mint chocolate chip soup. As I sat down at my computer, with soup in hand, a thought popped into my head and now all is right with the world!

EY #8: Tell About Your Mom (Revised)

Okay... I know it's been way too long since I've written a post... and here it is, the wonderful, crazy, dreaded month of May again! But, on this May Day, I feel a need to add a revision to the post I wrote one year ago today, thanks to the detective work of Josh & Brooks!

I'm pretty sure that I mentioned the fact that they gave me information about my mother's birth parents for Christmas. So, here I'd like to share a little bit of what we do know from their findings.

First of all, it's been verified that Mom was actually born May 1, 1921 rather than 1922. That was verified through Illinois vital records. Her sealed adoption record was opened and her original birth certificate was copied and authenticated:

Certified statement that this is a copy

of the birth record in Mary Ellen Hill's

sealed adoption files.

I know it's impossible to read here, but from the birth certificate, we know that she was born in Chicago at Cook County Hospital to Ted Voorhees (deceased) and Alice Gustafson. She was the second twin born and therefore the fifth of Alice's living children. We know that Alice was 27 years old and lived at 2753 Osgood Street in Chicago (with her parents), that she was born in Chicago and that she was a telegraph operator.

This is all exciting, but the plot thickens with the birth certificate proclamation that her father, Ted Voorhees is deceased. Josh and Brooks found a marriage record for a Ted Voorhees and Alice Gustafson on Nov. 21, 1914. He also appeared on 1920 census records as married, while Alice appears as a widow! There have been no death records or divorce records found for Ted or Alice yet...

1925 census records show Ted to be in New York with a new wife and a new daughter AND a new occupation! (Previously listed as a cost accountant, he's now a minister... which coincides with the story Mom was told...) A little research leads me to believe that he was a unique minister, with a particular desire to teach children about Jesus, the purpose of a book written by a Methodist minister: Ted V. Voorhees. Coincidence?

And, those who know of my love for psychology may find it of interest that Ted also studied psychology and often worked with the courts in cases involving children. At any rate, he seems to have been a unique man. I believe I found his obituary today; if this is the right Ted V Voorhees, he died December 1, 1968 near Jersey Shore, Pennsylvania.

So, am I any closer to finding the birth family my mom always wondered about? A bit. Have my questions been answered? Some... but now there are more questions than there were before. But, I can't help but feel that we're on the verge of finding answers and being able to put together the pieces. We may never have the whole story, but hopefully we'll have true pieces, rather than the the speculation we have now.

At any rate... it's May Day. Pick some flowers. Take them to a friend and leave them at the door. Ring the bell and run away. And say "Happy Birthday" to my mom!

WC #17:Mama's Pride

Most of you have probably figured out by now that I'm a quite proud mother. Every one of them does something every day that makes me proud of the women and men they've grown up to become. They try to trick me into "admitting" that one or the other is my "favorite child" regularly. The truth is, every one of them is my favorite for different reasons, because each of them has unique skills, talents, strengths and personalities and I've learned to reach out to each one for different reasons and, at that moment, that child is my favorite for that moment.

Beyond all that, twice a year I have a special pride in each of my sons, and they're my favorites at that time. Last night was one of those times. Let me give you a little background....

As Randy was not active in our faith for most of my children's lives, they all learned to turn to other men at church to be their male role models. Men like Greg Gorrell, Tom Spellman, Mark Rice, Barry Blum and so many others provided blessings, performed baptisms and set the example my children could look up to. They filled in areas that were empty in my children's lives.

Twice each year, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints holds General Conference. Conference is held in Salt Lake City, but is broadcast by satellite to chapels all over the world as well as being televised on BYU-TV and on the Internet on LDS.org. There are four sessions of conference: a morning and an afternoon session each on the first weekend (Sat & Sun) every April & October. About a week before General Conference, there is a General Women's Conference broadcast to the chapels for all women of the church ages 8 and above. The Saturday evening during General Conference weekend, there is a priesthood session for all men of the church, ages 12 & above.

While I always made sure that my children watched at least part of the General Conference each time, we relied upon those various male role models to make sure Brandon & Barton made it to priesthood while we lived in Ohio. After we made the move to Utah in 1997, Amy's husband, Tim, made sure the boys made it to priesthood, along with his elder son, Bryan who is eight months older than my boys. 

That worked out well, until Tim passed away from pancreatic cancer. I made the mistake of assuming some of the men from church, at least the young men's leaders, would make sure these young men had a way to priesthood. Imagine my surprise when I realized the boys took it upon themselves to get to the chapel themselves to attend priesthood by themselves, since no one bothered to invite them or arrange to pick them up! Needless to say, I wasn't pleased.

I was still upset a month later and I found myself walking to the pulpit during Fast & Testimony meeting. (The first Sunday of every month, Latter Day Saints fast for 2 meals and then have an opportunity to bear testimony to those in the congregation, rather than having scheduled speakers and assigned talks.) As I approached the pulpit, it was my intention to merely state my pride in my sons and my nephew; three young men who were strong enough and dedicated enough to do what they knew was right to attend priesthood by themselves, while most young men try to find ways out of attending with their fathers. After expressing my pride in the boys, however, I'm afraid I found myself blasting the men of our ward and expressing my disappointment that there wasn't a man among them who thought to reach out to these fine young men. 

As I returned to my seat and my children praised my embarrassing behavior, I realized that there was a lesson to be learned here. I made my sons promise me that when they grew up, whenever conference time rolled around, they would look for at least one young man who didn't have an active father in the church and give that young man the opportunity to attend priesthood with them.

Which brings me to the topic of this post.... Since they've grown up, as soon as my boys leave priesthood session, they've made a habit of calling me to report on the meeting. Who spoke?; What were their favorite talks?; What were the talks about? And, they always know that I'm going to ask if they took a young man with them. While living in Kentucky, Bart was the Young Men's President, meaning he was the adult male in charge of the young men from 12-18, so he was always accompanied by at least one young man. I was always so proud of all the things he did with "his" young men and that he was taking time to be a good example for all those young men.

It's been a little harder for Brandon, since he hasn't been involved in the young men program yet,  but last night when he called he sounded very excited and proud to tell me that he would have called sooner, but he needed to take the missionaries AND a young man home first! This young man began coming to church on his own, took missionary discussions and was baptized, and Banny gave him the opportunity to attend priesthood with him! And he was so pumped when he reported on the talks and the speakers they had. 

Like I said, I'm always very proud of ALL my kids. But, I'm especially proud twice each year as I recognize that there is a single mom out there who can rest assured that there are other men who will set the example for her son; or as I realize that there is a young man who's trying to do what's right by himself who can gain a little bit of support from one of my boys. 

WC #16: I'm Back... with memories of the Night that Changed America!

It's been a little while... I became a little bit burned out on my blogging and needed a break, but over the past few weeks without access to my laptop, I began to miss it... especially the night of February 9th as I watched "The Night that Changed America," the special tribute to 50 years of Beatle-mania in America!  

So, why did that show make me miss blogging? My blogs are primarily memories and the impact those memories have had on my life and, sad to say, I DO have memories of that night 50 years ago when I watched the Ed Sullivan Show (just like every other Sunday night), hoping Topo Gigo would be on (he was my favorite part of the show each week) and saw the Beatles for the first time ever!  The link below will tell the story of that performance as well as a short video clip of "All My Lovin'."

http://entertainment.time.com/2014/02/09/the-beatles-invasion-50-years-ago-sunday-feb-9-1964/

So, what are my memories of that night? I seem to recall my initial reaction being to the introduction to beetles! Ugh! Ed Sullivan was putting BEETLES on his show! Next, there's a bunch of dumb girls screaming and then music... like I'd never heard before! I mean to this point, I was in love with Pat Boone, my favorite song was "Love Me Tender" by Elvis and my first record of my own was "Uh-Oh" by The Three Chipmunks! (Yes, Alvin, Simon & Theodore)

As I watched, however, my attitude began to shift. I found I was enjoying the music. The tunes were catchy, they seemed to enjoy entertaining and that one on the left was pretty cute the way he'd wiggle his head and his hair would flop around every time he sang "Woooooo..." Although the haircuts were QUITE scandalous! I mean, their hair was partially covering their ears and they had BANGS!!! What boys wore bangs?!?

http://www.edsullivan.com/the-beatles-on-the-ed-sullivan-show-on-february-9-1964/

As I continued to watch, I saw their names come up on the screen as the TV cameras did a close-up on each one of them. As I saw "John- Sorry girls. He's married," I remember thinking... ewwww... why is he the married one? He looks like he just got off a horse! If I married one of them, it would be the cute one with the big brown eyes who wiggles his head. He has a cute smile.... Perhaps Paul was the first to draw my attention to guys with brown eyes....

Needless to say, as time went on, I grew to love the Beatles and all their songs like the rest of America. Granted, as I became more familiar with popular music as I neared my teens, I preferred the music of Herman's Hermits and then The Monkees, but the Beatles still provided me with many fond memories and the world with wonderful songs. 

At times I've been a little embarrassed that my oldest daughter, Meg, knows way more about The Beatles and their music than I do, but they've always been a part of her life... beginning with "Letter B" on Sesame Street.

Of course with the popularity of Guitar Hero and RockBand a few years ago, when I was working as an Electronics Merchandiser, I had to buy Beatles RockBand for my Wii when it was released! I pull it out every once in awhile when I have company and had to do just that when Andi & Cari visited me two years ago. I was appalled when they both told me that they only knew one song on the playlist (especially Cari, daughter of Meg). 

Cari & Andi dancing by the Space Needle
June, 2012

I couldn't believe that such a vital part of my granddaughters' education had been neglected, that they would not be acquainted with the music of the Beatles! As I tired of listening to them argue about who got to sing lead vocal on the ONE song they both said they knew, I did what any loving grandmother would do. I banned them from singing and told them I would choose the song and I would sing it! Imagine their surprise as I chose song after song and they ended up singing along because they DID know the words!

I enjoy the fact that my kids DO expose their kids to the songs they grew up with and I don't find it surprising that kids today do enjoy their music and recognize their contribution to music today.

Not to be forgotten on the "Night that Changed America," was another performance on Ed Sullivan that I would have paid more attention to had I realized that my future heart throb, Davy Jones was performing one of his scenes from "Oliver" as the Artful Dodger! I heard an interview with Davy awhile back about that night. He said that that night changed his career a bit. As he observed the Beatles and their affect on the audience, that he wanted that too...

The Beatles had such a profound impact on the world in so many ways. Initially it was music and hairstyle. But it grew to political statements, spirituality, fashion (Nehru jackets & wire-rimmed glasses), peace & love. We felt a part of their lives. We didn't know what to think of Yoko Ono and her influence on John. We were stunned at the news of the group's break-up. We cried at the senseless murder of John. We felt sorrow at George's passing and that of Linda, Paul's wife. We cheered Sir Paul's knighting by Queen Elizabeth. And, finally, we applaud the Grammies for creating a great tribute to the Fab Four, to air fifty years to the minute after the original Ed Sullivan show introduced them to America. I hope you were all able to watch it or the encore performance. I know I enjoyed it and truly enjoyed seeing Paul & Ringo perform together again. (Although I could have done without so many shots of Yoko dancing to the music...Still think she's weird...)

As my special tribute here and now, I hope you enjoy listening to these twenty top songs and hope they bring back some fond memories for you too!

Until next time... "Obla Di Obla Da! Life Goes On..."