Don't fail to allow failure

Are we a nation of Helicopter parents? This article in HuffPo has me scared. The title is, "Are We Raising a Generation of Helpless Kids?"

A couple of the stories in the article have me shaking my head. What have parents come to? We're afraid to allow our children to fail - paving their way through life until...when? How will they react when something doesn't go their way?

One story in the article is about a college freshman who receives a C- on an exam and right in the middle of class, she calls her mommy who wants to speak to the prof. He declined. Pat Bullock wouldn't approve. She believed in the school of "hard knocks". You deal with it. Mom did have her limits.

She picked me up when I didn't get any bids to be a sorority girl at ISU. Mom knew when to swoop in when necessary. (I guess Betsy's car getting nailed before her early morning in-home nursing visit in Omaha didn't qualify - sorry Bets). Staying in Ames would have left me hanging in the wind all weekend at the dorm while the other girls I went through rush with were getting ready for their welcoming ceremonies - torture. I don't remember the ride back to Atlantic for Labor Day weekend, but I'll wager it was painful for both of us.

Mom had encouraged me to go to Ames for Rush Week. I was a Kappa Kappa Gamma legacy! She loved her sorority experience at the University of Iowa and remained active as an alum. Cindy also loved KKG at Drake. Neither of Mom nor I knew what was in store - that the Iowa State University Greek system was at an all time high in popularity. That this little somewhat introverted SW Iowa bumpkin without the hair fixing gene was ill-equipped to face the gauntlet of rush.

While getting ready for the tours and parties - I started to "get it" - I wasn't a good fit for sorority life. I'd put my clothes on (I hadn't purchased a new wardrobe for this occasion) and a little eye shadow. Done! The other girls - oh the gyrations they went through and the beauty that emerged when they were through. I still don't know how to do that stuff, and obviously don't care to learn...it's not in my nature. Why would someone want to curl their eyelashes. Ouch! My makeup kit is a joke.

After my rejection from the Greek System - it was hard to return to ISU. But I sure wasn't staying in Atlantic! I bet Mom was fretting about it as she dropped me off again. Of course I wasn't thinking about her - I was all about me!

Dorm party - my roomie frosh Loraine on the left, Vic on the right and Jane in the back

The good news was that my pals Sal, Julia and friends I was soon to meet - Vicki and Jane, were not sorority girls. They lived on my dorm floor. It turned out better than okay for me - I met lifelong friends and did just fine without the Greek system. Thank goodness my mother didn't call the KKG main office and force them into admitting me into that house. I bet she considered it though...


My fro makes me taller than 5'10" Sally?

The next challenge was that D I got in Biology! Mom didn't call anyone then either. I figured out on my own how to change majors (several times - ending up with Fred Hoiberg's dad as my advisor), looked into (and rejected) the idea of going to a smaller school, and arranged for a tutor. It was all really hard to do. Doing all these things helped me grow up. My parents provided support to me in weekly phone calls (and cash). By spring semester I was getting As and Bs. I took Biology over and received an A my sophomore year. Still, as a third child and an introvert, it took me a long time to mature - many more years past college. Growing up is hard, even with supportive parents.

We parents do not like to watch our children fail. It hurts! Just like when they fall down - our urge is to rush in and fix it for them. When they were babies and took a spill - you could downplay it. Instead of rushing over you could say - from afar, "You're okay!" They'd often dust themselves off and keep on going. Real life can work like that - encouragement goes a long way.

Paul and I cannot claim perfect parent status. Just ask out kids. I swear they remember every parental "No No" I ever did, not thinking about the times I read to them, took them to the playground - the good stuff! But we did allow failure, and punishment when they were naughty. Again - not perfect but not helicopter.

In 1997, when I worked as Recycling Educator in Creston and my office was at Creston City Hall, the McFees and Goldsmiths took the children to the Lighted Christmas Parade. There was a soup supper at the Meal Site at City Hall. The kids got antsy and started running around. Amy and Krissy locked themselves in the City Council Chambers. That infuriated Kimmy and Jud who poked a plastic thing into the lock and snapped it off. Oops!

Jud and Kim HS Grad

The parents required them to apologize to the City Manager (the custodian was able to remove the plastic item) who gave them each a couple hours of trash pick up duty around City Hall as penance. Lesson learned. (At least it made me feel better - haha.)

One other thing we held back on was talking to coaches. And our kids played about everything so there were lots of opportunities! Parents get too wrapped up in this little microcosm of life -we were guilty too. We talked about sports too much at home - in front of Amy and Jud.

Coaches (and teachers) are like bosses - you're going to have good and bad ones. Kids need to learn to deal with them. It will help you later in life. They shouldn't have to put up with abuse, but when it comes to playing time - let them deal with it.

I believe in people being accountable for their actions. Too many parents today are trying to find ways to hold others accountable for what their kids do. How will that help them succeed in life?  I'm preaching to the choir here - I just wanted to let you all know that you're doing the right thing. It's not always easy. But it's right.

Water therapy Reminded of Sally's Pool

I always go to water - in good times and bad. Water is my happy place, my solace, my cure. Perhaps is started long ago with amniotic fluid - or maybe it was the Country Club swimming pool. My grandfather, Wallace Bullock, was the first person hit the water in that pool. I doubt he ever got in again, but he made sure to be first. I think he was on the committee.

And Pat Bullock certainly kept the rest of us in the H2O ever after that. I've written about my escapades as a lifeguard and on Atlantic's Swim Team. I'm comfortable in water. I float! #notasinker

When it comes to rehabbing my shoulder and getting back in shape, water exercise just makes sense. Warmth, resistance, and my mecca - all the best for me. I was exercising in the warm water Thursday night...and the Wayback machine drove by. No...I didn't see those pods like the movie Cocoon.

Sally Rodgers - probably age 12ish. Post braids

The Wellness YMCA keep  the water warm - much like the water at a pool I spent much of my childhood in. One owned by the Rodgers family - Wayne and Anna Day, parents of my pal Sally. Last night I pre-occupied my self with thoughts of the Rodgers' house and pool as I put myself through water aerobics paces.

When you're the third child your parents don't really notice when you're gone. Sal was the youngest in her fam - bit spoiled, really. She'd invite me to spend the night - and sometimes I'd be there all weekend. I guess I was an easy kid to have around hanging out playing board games, throwing snowballs and in the summer - swimming in the oval in-ground pool in the backyard.

One of the adults had to be available to "guard" us. (I be Marci loved that!) We spent hours in that thing - until we were wrinkled like prunes. Last night I thought about how we'd compete - seeing how far we could swim without taking a breath. We do backflips off the little diving board and practice flip turns for swim team endlessly.

Sally and I would pretend to be members of synchronized swim team - though that was left better to our friend Candice and others more graceful in the water. I think my sinking leg move was awesome though...in the privacy of Sal's backyard...

One birthday (she's a Leo - August) Sal held a pool party with boys and I broke out my very first bikini there. It was a far cry from the Atlantic Swim Team Speedo I was used to. #meethethegirls
I was blessed to spend so much time with Sally and the Rodgers. Anna Day was a peach and I got to know Wayne more later when I got a horse and he was my mentor. They were special people.

In the meantime - last night I did jumping jacks, cross country and various other under water exercises. Today - my shoulder feels good. And my mind feels good thanks to all those happy memories. See....therapy works.    

Magic 8-Ball/Steam Bath

One of my favorite authors this past couple years has been William Kent Krueger and his Cork O'Connor series of books set in northern Minnesota. That character, Cork, is a former sheriff solving mysteries with Catholicism and Indian faith thrown in.

Cork has American Indian relatives and friends. I especially enjoy reading about American Indian spirituality. There is a recurring character who is type of medicine man. When there is a most difficult problem - they do a "sweat" and heat up rocks - one rock is called "Old Grandfather" for a sweat lodge. The sweat causes them to have visions or dreams that help them have the grace to go through the hardship they're going through.

I think about this as I sit in the steam room at the Healthy Living YMCA after working out. Recovering from an illness is a spiritual experience for me. Before being diagnosed with Graves' Disease I wasn't sure I'd make it through what ever had me in its grips. That was partly the illness working on me - anxiety is one of the symptoms. Now that I've been diagnosed, I know that this illness is not curable, but is treatable - so I must get my mind around how I'll live well with it.

I've enjoyed having the steam room all to myself nearly every time I've used it this past week. It's dark - with the only light enters through the glass door. It's hot and steamy of course and periodically the "steamer" runs sending more delicious hot moist air into the room which is set up with two levels of tile benches.

I have started thinking of the "steamer" as my Magic 8 Ball. When I question something in my mind...if the steam starts - there's my answer! haha. No not really. But it is a therapeutic place.

Speaking of therapeutic, Judson David visited this weekend.  We didn't see much of Kara who was hanging out with college pals - fun times with longtime friends for her.

Jud went to the ISU game with us. We pre-gamed at Kari and Kevin's house before heading to the parking lot for a bit. I enjoyed meeting their son - he and Jud chatted. We saw Donnie and Marilyn and Dwight plus Phil. The weather was pretty darn nice for mid-November. Too bad the hapless Cyclones couldn't come through with the victory. It was like old times riding in the car with my boys - listening to their sports talk.

We enjoyed see Kara this a.m. before they headed back to St. Louis. Happy that they'll be with us at Christmas.

PT Graduation Day

Me and my shoulder are winging it after today. I graduated from physical therapy after making my last visit this afternoon. No, my shoulder is not perfect. But the two of us are ready to go it on our own - exercising at the YMCA and at home - working to strengthen my wienie noodle arm.

I'm going to miss Christine Young-Denny MPT and the folks at Penn Physical Therapy. It's not a fancy place. I picked it two years ago when my right shoulder froze because it's close to my office - right across the freeway, near Lutheran Hospital. The people there are very friendly - especially Tammy at the front desk. She reminds me of Pat Barkalow who I had the pleasure of working with at First National Bank in Creston. A total sweetheart. And Tammy remembers everyone's name - it's amazing.

I've had a closer relationship with Christine, my physical therapist, than with most other people these past couple months. We've gotten to know each other - chatting about our lives during my treatment. Sometimes she was applying an ultrasound device to my shoulder - a comforting touch to an area that was screaming for help.

I think she also tried to distract me with chatter during times she was torturing me. It was what my surgeon called "aggressive" treatment designed to prevent my shoulder from freezing up again. I'm afraid I was a wimp at times - less than a stiff upper lip. Christine handled this situation with grace.

And sarcasm. We share a birthday and that personality trait. I enjoyed hearing stories about Christine's family. Her son is a frosh at ISU and is a former high school hockey player. Her daughter is fifteen years old and sounds like a sweetheart. I shared information about my cherubs Amy and Jud - like how happy Paul and I were to hear that Amy and Jud saw each other every week when they were both at ISU during 2007/8. Then we found out Amy was Jud and his friends' booze connection. #siblinglove

Christine has helped see me through a really tough time in my life. She was calm, caring - and funny. She made sure that I didn't get shuffled off to other PTs, keeping me to herself. I thanked her today for her care and she simply said, "I love my job." What could be better than that! Hats off to all my relatives and friends who are Physical Therapists. Our nieces Karen, Annette, and our friend Stormy - the work you do is so important to those of us in need!


Karen - a recently scanned pic from a special day

Another recently scanned pic from a Gsmith Christmas - Annette & fam

Stormy - wedding pic

 

Now the work is up to me!

Yimka, Lycra, Big Buck

I joined the Yimka today. What? You don't know what that is?

If you were a friend of mine in college you might. It's part of my college lore. I was serving as lifeguard at Beyer Hall on the Iowa State University campus one Friday evening. Beyer was the big pool on campus back then and was busy. My responsibility was the shallow end - and lane one was, I'll say - ethnic. All nationalities were jammed into the shallow end, swimming with young children in various stages of dress.

Beyer Pool ISU

I was sitting there lifeguarding my ass off when a young Asian woman approached me with a question. "Where can I take sweeeming lessons?" It was a bit hard to understand her, but I caught on. I began to list places she could learn to swim. Being a Red Cross girl (thank you Betty Lou and Nancy Pellett) of course I mentioned that organization. And my roomie Sally Rodgers had worked for the City of Ames. The woman said, "what about the yimka?" Hmmm, what is this yimka thing I asked myself. Finally it came to me...YMCA! And ever since then - the Y has also been know as the Yimka to me and my pals.

Now that I'm feeling better it's time to start working out again. Last year I belonged to the Healthy Living Center YMCA in WDM and today I ponied up for that joint again. I planned to start slow and just walk today but when I walked through the door I knew I had to get into the water. It's like a siren to me - calling!

Good thing I took my swim suit along. Bad thing it's tight and Lycra! Sports bras and Speedo swim suits are like straight jackets for girls with wounded wings. I'm glad I selected a locker room bay that was empty besides myself for my gyrations. It was worth it! I didn't swim laps - instead utilizing the warm exercise pool with dumbells (tools not people). I showered, put on my other stuff and walked a mile later. It was good to be back. The shoulder is complaining a little - but not howling like it was a month ago.

Paul had a very good weekend! He took a very good buck deer on Saturday. The deer was a very formidable opponent and we give thanks for the majesty he brought to the timber. The meat will go to the HUSH program to feed the hungry as we already are using the meat from the doe he shot earlier. Paul respects his foe and enjoys the hunt so much. He spends countless hours in his tree stands and scouting areas to hunt. This is hunting as it should be. Congrats to my honey!

Ghost Story

We all have a few ghost stories in our lives. Paul and I lived in Creston, Iowa for 26 years - and that town has a few stories that we have adopted as our own. I've not been blogging about much lately - mostly because I've felt like crap! That doesn't mean I've not thought of you, dear reader. I've just thought of myself more. #memyshoulderi'msotired

Here's the good news - the fog seems to be parting. My shoulder has taken a turn for the better (about time, huh?). And I'm staring to feel like doing the little things - like cooking and blogging. Hey, what do you know. Maybe those T3 and T4 levels (thyroid hormones) are regulating. Hoohah!

Anyway - I've been thinking of this blog since Halloween. Creston has some scary lore. It's an old railroad town and just radiates with good stories. None of these actually have anything to do with the railroad...

When Paul and I first moved to town I worked at First National Bank. That was where I learned of the Haunted House on Higbee. I think the bank I gotten it back on a re-possession. The lore was a man had hung himself on the upper floor of the once impressive home in a nice older part of town. I imagined it similar to the house from the movie "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken." Loved that show! We used to drive by the place...just because it was creepy. Eventually some nice people bought it and fixed it up.

Next, when I was preggers with Judson David Goldsmith (but before we knew that who the little bugger would be) and Bobbie McFee was with child (Kimberly McFee), we learned of a creepy headstone at Graceland Cemetery just south of Creston. The story is that it was installed by an upset widow, who thought her husband was somewhat of a dick - so  made sure the tombstone was shaped like that piece of male anatomy. Goldsmiths and McFees decided to view this creepy appendage stone on a cold winter night after hanging out at the Cromwell Tap.

This is the cemetery entrance...not the special stone

Due to our pg condition, Bobbie and I weren't even inebriated. But we were under the influence of hormones... nonetheless it what creepy out there, looking at the stone at night. A few years later, in the light of day, I dragged some of my fam out there to see the thing - even posing Sarah Kohan with it. Creston Lore at its best!

As young Creston parents we'd heard our friends talk about an abandoned farmstead outside of Creston - Hooker's Farm. The Hooker family had evidently taken off in a hurry - leaving furniture and home furnishings behind - making it a great party house for youngsters. There are many stories about Hooker's Farm - but I just have one. The time the Goldsmiths visited the place.

Bob Hudek (RIP Bobby)

It was Bob Hudek's 45th? birthday - being celebrated at Nancy and Kenton Groth's house on Prairie. I'll admit it, some drinks were drunk. At one point we sang, "bare your butt Bob" and were treated to a nice Bob H. moon. It was summer and the kids were entertaining themselves. When it got dark someone suggested that we should visit Hooker's Farm!

We piled into several vehicles - kids and all - and drove up the long dirt lane. We had a few flashlights - not enough though. I know Amy was there but don't remember if Jud was. We were in the dining room and of course others tried to jiggle things and scare us. It worked! I believe the old place has now been razed. Several talented CHS grads made a CD called Hooker's Farm in the 90's.

Growing up in a small town might sound boring to big city kids - but we small townies find a way to make life exciting wherever we are.

Mr. Salty in the Bedroom

Paul walked out of our room Sunday with a perplexed look on his face carrying a jar of nuts. He wanted to know just why those crunchy legumes, a jar of Mr. Salty Peanuts, were in the bedroom. He looked a little jealous - though the lid hadn't even been cracked open!

I had to explain to my dear husband that my physical therapist Christine has assigned me some exercises for my shoulder. I decided I was ready to add in a bit of weight and looked in the cupboard for a soup can...but then I spied Mr. Salty. He is a nicely weighted plastic container with a waist so he, um, I mean it is easily gripped. Not to worry Pablo - you've not been replaced by nuts.

The cleaning crew came to our home today. I put Mr. Salty away in a drawer, but I did leave out a few more of my workout tools. I hope they don't think I'm kinky....

a rubber thingy on the door knob - glad it wasn't on the ceiling fan...

There is also a pulley and ropes on my dresser. All such fun stuff! My arm is doing about 172 degrees - not too bad.

Other health news: Today I went to Methodist for a blood test to see what those T3 and T4 levels are doing after 3 weeks on the Methimizole. It takes about that long for the thyroid to give up the stored hormones...so this is when I should start feeling the effects of the drug which is a blocker. I hope it's more like the front line blocking like the Dallas Cowboys rather than the ISU Cyclones.

I renewed my drivers license

I will be 65 years old when I need to renew it again. Yikes ya'll! Now that got my attention. I was able to renew online, so that was cool. For 8 years! How can I possible be 57 years old? Time is flying...I must be having fun.

It was a pretty darn good birthday as birthdays go when one attains this stellar age. For one thing, I planned a workshop for that whole day - ensuring that I'd have a captive audience. When I introduced our speakers I made sure to announce that it was the day of my birth - and that all 50+ people in attendance should be kind to me. They were!

Angie Clark from my office even took the time to bake a fab ISU cake that brought to the workshop. she broke it out at lunchtime and the whole gang sang "Happy Birthday" to me. I wasn't successful in getting them to do the polka version after that though. My pals Cory and Tom (our consultants for our EMS program) bought me a pretend drink after the meeting. Later I met Paul for a nice prime rib and Nick and John's in Waukee. He gave me tickets to a great musical - Book of Mormon. Good stuff!

Amy and Jud each phoned with well wishes - I always love to be Queen for a Day. Plus I received some nice greeting cards. I am a sucker for a good smart ass card.

My physical therapist got into the game and gave me a card. She and I discovered we share a birthday - which this year happened to fall on voting day. I didn't see her that day, but her office went with the theme and they all dressed in red, white and blue and posted "Christine" campaign promises around the office - in keeping with the day. Just like Iowa's new senator, at PT, Christine makes me squeal.

The rest of the week was pretty good too. My college roomie Vicki called - we talked for an hour of course - just catching up. We've known each other so long we can talk in shorthand, even if we haven't talked for a while. Love that girl.

Today my sissy Cindo called. On Veteran's Day it will be 2 years since her husband, our beloved Boldie, died. We miss him so.

Boldie - I bet he is watching over us...and yelling

Joan Collins massaged me

No...not her.

The masseuse Joan. My physical therapist told me about her masseuse who happens to have the same name as a famous actress. My last masseuse, moved to California. I've written before about my issues with my personal space. Once I find my touching "peeps" I don't like to change. I've only had a handful of hair stylists in the past 20 years. Most times I've been forced to switch by their moves - I've not left them because I've been unhappy - even if I might have been a little bit.

So...needed a new masseuse. This one made me feel comfy right away. And she has the hands of an angel. Her business is All About Massage on 86th and Douglas. Ahhhh. Just what I needed. Without the bitchiness of the actress - a gal we all loved to hate on Dynasty. My shoulder has been a bitch, lately just like actress Joan Collins. It needs some TLC so it starts treating me nicely.

Joan "angel hands"

Joan worked on it for an hour. It's amazing what those people do. She could tell exactly where the hurt was. Hats off to you Julia Hoilien - my High School classmate and friend who does this work each week in her hometown just outside Bolder, Colorado. There is such caring in those hands. I appreciate the work they do.

He's my Handy Man

A couple months ago Paul and I attended "Team Building", the Thursday after work gathering of federal and former fed NRCS workers. They meet for beverages at local establishments and shoot the breeze. Sometimes the DNR director even shows up...so I'm on best behavior when I go! That last time I attended, we learned that several of them were going to attend the James Taylor Concert November 1. Gary was in charge of getting tickets. We were IN. I'd never seen one of my all time fave musicians live.

I've loved JT, well forever. This week before the concert I kept thinking about one particular song - from the first James Taylor Album I ever purchased, "Handy Man." sweet song - young James

I was a lifeguard at Sunnyside Pool in Atlantic when that song came out. And I had to have it! It was one of those songs. You couldn't hear it on the radio enough - must own! I likely buzzed over to Omaha on my day off from protecting the world's children from drowning to purchase it - on the album JT. He had hair then. And mine was a semi afro...

I'd kinda had my heart broken that summer. That spring I'd met a guy at ISU. He seemed very interested in me. We'd been to each other's spring parties. As school wound down and I was studying for finals and starting to pack to head home for the summer, he sent a dozen red roses to me. I mistakenly thought that meant we were something! Then that summer, nothing. I wrote to him - with no response. Good thing my fab Sunnyside friends were there to distract me with parties and fun...

Sigh. Still I needed a song like Handy Man! I didn't know then there was a Paul Goldsmith in my future...a real Handy Man. Funny - a few years later, when I was married, Paul and I went out with a couple in Council Bluffs - and I found out the other gal had also dated this fella. At the same time I had! Cad. He prolly sent her flowers too.

James Taylor has a timeless voice. He told of signing his first record deal thanks to the Beatles in 1968. Look who is still touring and going strong at age 66. While he might not have the zing star power of the Beatles...he certainly has some iconic songs. I purchased the Best of James Taylor as a cassette and then a CD. Now he's on my iPod.

I like the "Steamroller" naughty version thank you! I remember listening to that with the kids in the car and thinking, "I hope they don't learn those words and sing "mfing blues" in front of somebody someday...".

Paul and I began our evening by meeting some longtime friends for supper and a drink downtown first. I had decided not to attend the ISU home game - thinking the chilly weather wouldn't be pleasant for my shoulder. Shivering and scar tissue - ouch (it's slowly getting better)! Painful ugly loss - ouch. I'm glad I didn't go to the game. It's been a long time since we've had a night out!

Deb and Larry Peterson met us at Three Olives (used to be The Standard). It was fun to spend some time with friends. We got the update on the big embezzlement scandal at a car dealership in Creston. Unreal. How do people think they'll get away with that? I feel guilty if someone gives me too much change...

We walked through the skywalk to The Well. There was a nice crowd at the concert and I saw Facebook posts showing several other people I knew were there to take in this great show.

JT played all my faves, plus some songs from a new CD. He talked about how many of his songs are "tree huggerish" I heart that! He ended the first set with "Shower the People you Love with Love". If only we'd remember to live like that every single day!

JT ended the concert with a couple encores. First he got us all up out of our seats to dance to "Mexico". The set of the concert was very cool - see above. 3 big screens and those posts could show videos too. Some of the songs had videos to go with them. For Mexico...we were there!

And then, of course, "You've Got a Friend". That song has been used for so many occasions through the years. James' wife came out for the last few songs. The final one was an Irish or Scottish folk song and it was gorgeous and a beautiful way to end the evening. Life is good.