It would be so nice to do the whole, “yes I know I am awake and alive, and the pain doesn’t matter stoic bit”  But I am human, and guess what the pain does matter. The physical pain in my hip that woke me out of a sound sleep at 3:21 am was jarring. Like someone was sticking a knife in the joint and twisting.
     I first moved the dog off the bed thinking if I could stretch my leg out that would help. Nope instant searing pain from hip to toe. Ouch, well that was the wrong decision.  Then I rolled to see if I could find a more comfortable position, nope that wasn’t gonna happen either.
     Thinking back on my week of shoe choices, Monday; Combat Boots..it was icy as all get out in New England. Tuesday; Docksiders with grippy rubber bottoms, and the same yesterday. No heels to aggravate the tendon that was causing such searing pain.
     I began to knead & massage the area to try n relieve the pain. Oh ouch holy hell pain balls. That makes it worse. My plan to swim at the YMCA this morning will either help or hurt like no ones business. But oh the time in the hot tub afterwards will be sweet and heavenly.
     I point my toes and flex my foot, that helps a little. Finally the dog isn’t looking at me like I am going to die.
     This pain in my hip has been an ongoing thing, partial dislocation is the diagnosis. Heels are not my friend, but I love them and I wear them at least 1 if not 2 days a week. Then pay for it with shooting pain.
     This morning I will get up and head to the Y, swim my 2 miles, lounge in the hot tub and then go on with my day. Because today this pain will not get the best of me, it will not win. I made plans to swim, the cool water is calling my name. I hear the lanes beckoning me, the need for solitude, the rhythm of the stroke. Just me, my goggles and my pink swim cap. Because today I am fierce and I win!!

     On the way home from work I was having a conversation with my best friend from…well forever. We were discussing the differences in how we are raising our children, versus how we were raised. And how I am mothering my children…versus how his wife is mothering their children.
     My philosophy on parenting is as follows: at the end of the day if my children are fed, not in juvenile detention, no one is in the hospital, no broken bones, I haven’t had to make a trip to the school administration. All is well in my world.🐶
     His wife’s mothering philosophy flies way more into the helicopter variety than mine. She hovers over everything that they do, believing that no one can parent them as well as she can. If you were ever to be so foolish, crazy or brazen as to question her parenting tactics. You would regret it. She is the Queen Bee!!!🐝🐝. It makes me both worry and wonder as to how her children will function when she is not there to hover over every little thing they do.🚁
     Which moves me on to my next topic, I live here in New England. It is known for snow, cold, ice, freezing rain, sleet. In short generally crappy winter weather. Somewhere in the last 15 years we have become an area of “snow weanies”  in Southern New England though. In the last month we have had 4 snow days for “angel dust”  of snow…what we natives call less than 2″  of the pretty white stuff, below zero temperatures. Hello I did mention it is New England right?  Wintery Mix, better known as the aforementioned crap weather rolled into 1. And a day called where the forecasted “ice”  turned into rain.
     I remember days in the ’70’s bundled up the Michelin Man walking to the bus stop, the bus had chains on it, and off we went. So it was cold, you don’t stand at the bus stop forever, and you dress your children appropriately.
     Helicopter parents have turned into Helucoper Administrators, our sue happy society has trickled down and someone needs to erect a dam, and do it quick!!!!

When I went to College, I wanted to be a TV Broadcaster. My Major is in Corporate Communications, with a Minor in Finance to appease my Mom. So I could actually do something with that degree. I did an internship at ESPN back when it was first starting, it truly was an amazing place.  When I graduated in 1989…what seems like ages ago TV Broadcasters just starting out didn’t make enough to pay the rent. I had batted back the idea of being a lawyer so i took the LSAT entrance exam. To say that I bombed it would be the understatement of the century. Finally I admitted that the way for me to make a living was to do what my Mom wanted me to do.

I enrolled in Graduate school, and excelled, graduating at the top of my class. I have a MBA in Finance, and I am beginning to study for my CPA exams. My Mom always wanted me to be an Accountant, it just took me a little longer to get here.

I was never getting married, I was going to be perfectly fine single. I have been married almost 19 years. I never wanted children, I was going to be the career woman. I have 2 teen boys. This is how we get to all I ever wanted. If I was having children, I was going to have a nanny. I was going to go right back to work. I stayed home for 2 years with both of my boys. And yes I wanted girls. I wanted to have a house full of sparkly things and make up and shoes and heels and glitter.

Instead I have a house full of testosterone, baseball, football, sweaty sox, and raunchy jokes. I love my boys don’t get me wrong. They would do anything for their mom. They are glad to carry my groceries in and hang my pictures. As for making dinner without being prodded…well that is a work in progress. My oldest is more than happy to drive me anywhere, or anyone else anywhere in HIS car.!!! They are my world and now they are ALL I EVER WANTED

     A blog seems the best way…the best way to get it all out. Some people paint, others dance, others knit. I write!!!  The running joke in my family is “That I can’t define the word IT in under 10 pages”. It is completely true. I hold a MBA in Finance from RPI, I had to write a Master’s Thesis for graduation. The basic requirement was it had to be at least 85 pages, double pages and on a relevant business issue. My topic was Flexibility in The Work Force.
     My rough draft was 150 pages, well over the minimum 85 required pages, I figured I was good to go. Bigger is better and all that. My Thesis advisor was an elderly gentleman, somewhere in his mid to late 70’s. He returned my rough draft with minimal corrections, but a big sticky note on the front with this written on it.
    “Please pare down your thesis, to no more than 125 pages. I am old, and don’t want to die while reading yours.:)”
     He obviously did not subscribe to the bigger is better mindset. I pared my Thesis down to 124 pages. Handed it in, received an A+, and graduated Summa Cum Laude from RPI.