The more things change…


Aside from Cheetos’ stained fingers and a slight stink emanating from his overgrown head full of (greasy) hair, I can most assuredly tell you, when he enveloped me in one of his patented hugs, I felt complete again. It was as if a part of me had been missing this last month. Of course, much of this is true, considering, while at college, the boy had been aloof, completely detached from his parents and not really caring that we were curious about his classes and dorm life. Leading up to our first visit, my husband and I shared several conversations concerning his short college career thus far…

“I never thought I would internalize his new life (away from us) as a stressor for me,” I told my husband and he concurred, “Who would have thunk this kid held so much worry for us?” He added. “Who would have thought, considering how much this boy likes to hear himself talk, he could be so quiet?” I replied and we both grunted in unison. “Well, now we know, we need to force the issue and get him a phone, instead of relying on his iPod,” My husband confirmed as we agreed to terms on a new cellphone plan.

The first thing we did as a family was to drive to the nearest Walmart and send him immediately to the bathroom to wash his face and hands. Then we spent the next few hours replenishing his supply needs, getting him a haircut, a couple pairs of shoes and lunch, not to mention catching up on how well school was going for him. “I’m tired all the time, they keep us so busy…” he relayed. “How’s the job hunt?” I asked. “I didn’t get one job as an assistant in the theater department, but I’m waiting to hear back on the other two,” He replied. “Bay, you need to make an effort. Stop in the office and remind them you put in an application. Keep your mind fresh in theirs,” I tried to reinforce and he thanked me for the good ideas.

“Have you taken advantage of the Rec center and gone swimming?” His father asked. “Not yet…” Bay replied and then offered his plausible explanation why. “There are days I’m laying in bed and think, ‘I should go swimming…’ but then I realize, I have to walk down three flights of stairs, followed by a walk down a very steep hill, only to walk up another steep hill to get to the Rec center. Then I’d have to do the whole thing over again to come back and I’m exhausted just considering the idea”.

Yes, that’s my bay!

Shortly before we left for home, he showed me his grades,  acquiesced and took responsibility for why he was struggling in one class. “This is my fault. I keep forgetting to bring the right materials to class, but I’m working with the teacher to rectify this and am confident I’ll get the grades up by the end of the semester,” he said. “You do that…write notes to yourself if necessary…” I said and he smiled, “That’s what my counselor told me to do as well…” Nice to know we are all on the same page–I thought.

He also made a point of introducing us to his new friends (who he mobilized to help carry up his groceries, so we wouldn’t have to)  and told us about the different clubs and organizations he had joined. But, when the time came to leave, we exchanged hugs and well wishes, turned and exited his room. I stood there for a moment, expecting the boy to accompany us to the dorm lobby, to see us off.  Instead, his door remained closed. Looking at my husband I said, “Well, the more things change, the more they remain the same.”

Which prompted all three of us to quietly nod in affirmation.






When I entered the building, a student informed me I was not allowed to go up to a student’s dorm room, without a student present–which at the time made perfect sense what with today’s lock down, need for safety and privacy world. So I waited.

and waited..

and waited…

and waited some more.

My husband, who had been impatiently waiting in the car with our doll, parked the vehicle and offered to exchange places with me. “I was told I could not go up to his dorm room…” I explained and he replied, “Okay”. I in turn, walked back to the car and opened  my phone to a text message he’d sent the night before that read, “I’ll meet you in the dorm lobby between 9:30 and ten”.

“Mom, where’s Dyl?” The doll asked from behind. “Any number of places…” I began, “Except where he should be,” I finished. Looking back over the few texts he has sent me since leaving for college. Taking in a deep breath I said to his sister, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen him in a month, and already I want to kill him…” She smirked and said, “Keep taking those deep cleansing breaths, Mom”.


A few weeks back, after not hearing one iota from the boy I sent a text which read, “You need to do a better job of communicating with your parents…” His reply a few hours later read, “I’m sorry to have left you so despondent, but I have a shit ton of work to do here”. Leave it to Dylan to make me laugh even when I’m mad at him.


When my phone rang, I found my husband relaying how he said screw to the rules and went up to the boy’s dorm door and began pounding until he answered. “Oh dad, I didn’t hear my alarm…” Was our son’s reply. Ten minutes later, the both of them emerged from the main lobby doors and there he stood, all 6’3″ of my son, arms outstretched, calling my name and then enveloping me into a stinky, albeit welcoming; hug. “Mom, mom, I’m so sorry. I had plans to wake up early and take a shower, but overslept. So now you get to see me how my teachers see me every single day…” He relayed and I tried not to cringe on his details. As we pulled apart I asked, “Dyl… were you eating Cheetos this morning?” Looking back at me oddly he replied, “No, but I was last night…” then he looked down at his right hand, where his fingers were the distinct color of Cheetos dust. “Oh, I still have Cheetos on my hand…” He began, before raising his hand to his face and said, “Oh, I still have some crumbs on my face too…”

Forcing me to once again, try my best not to cringe at his details.
















the friend zone…


Toward the end of the last school year, a boy at school asked my doll–via text message, if she was interested in going out on a date with him. Seeing that this boy was not the “crush” and not quite knowing how she felt about him, she replied, “I’d rather just stay friends…” Coming into the kitchen that night, she said, “I just sent a boy to the ‘Friendzone'”, and then explained to me what she meant. “I mean he’s nice enough, but, I don’t like him that way, so I told him I just wanted to remain his friends (hence the ‘friendzone’ designation)”.

A few weeks ago, following a football game, I said, “Hey, I saw your friendzone kid at the game… he’s kind of cute…” She gave me annoyed look before adding, “Ew, mom, he already has a girlfriend and again, I’m not interested,” She replied. “I’m not saying nothing, other than he’s gotten a little cuter over the summer, that’s all,” I explained. “Yeah, whatever, mom,” She replied dismissively.

Homecoming, the annual fall dance is fast approaching and the doll and her friends have decided to forgo dates, and just attend as a group of girls. Except, there are other forces at work. “What would you do if  “J” asked you to the dance?” I asked about her crush. “He’s taking someone else– I overheard he and C talking in Latin, how the girl he was going to ask was in another class,” She replied. “What if anyone else did?” I offered. “Oh, I don’t think anyone else will…” She answered.

So over the course of the last three weeks, via in person conversation and text messages, the girls have been putting together the final pieces of their group “date” for homecoming–which sounds like a really good time. Except, the doll was asked to the dance by another boy–one she also designated to “Friendzone”.

The plot thickens…

“Braden just sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to homecoming as “friends”,” She began. “What did you tell him?” I wondered. “First I checked with all the other girls if it would be okay if he joined our group, and then I told him about our plans to attend as one big group,” he finished. “So, what does this mean?” I asked. “What do you mean?” She looked back at me perplexed. “Is he aware that you consider this a group date?” “That’s what I told him and he seemed fine,” She replied. “Well okay,” I replied, preferring to drop the inquisition for the time being.

But…as her mother, I do believe another motive is on the table…

Over the summer, Braden invited doll to a pool party he was throwing for his “friends”. However, according to her, not only would she have been the only girl, quite possibly the only person from their Freshman class to attend. Feeling uncomfortable, I told her to either say, ‘No’ and blame it on me or ask if you could bring additional girl friends along, to satisfy your mom’s worry as well as her own. In the end, she chose to blame me for not allowing her to attend. Now this same boy has invited her to the dance as “friends” which makes me wonder if he’s hoping for more and using the “friendzone” as a blind.

“Doll, have you talked with Braden about the dance and stuff?” I asked. “A little. I mean, I’ve told him about our plans to get pictures together, then we’re going to eat at Panera’s before heading over to the dance and he’s invited to come with us. But nothing has been set in stone yet,” she explained. “Do you think he might be expecting you to be his  real “date”? I asked. “You and Kay are on the same page, she’s been teasing me that I have a date, whereas I keep telling her we’re just friends. Mom, I don’t see Braden any other way, than a friend. I’m sure, I’ll dance with him a little, but I’m going to be having fun with my friends,” she naively replied.

“Okay, but hear me out K? What, if Braden used the line “Friends” to get you to say yes, but is really thinking about this as a date? I mean he did invite only you to that pool party over the summer. He might actually like you differently than you believe…” She looked back at me with a mortified look upon her face. “I never thought of it that way….” “I mean, I could be wrong and he might just see you as a friend. But you need to be careful with his feelings…” Nodding as my words sunk in, she turned, looked at me and said, “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

Welcome to life baby!





the crush…


Don’t you find calling someone a “crush” interesting especially since that person could literally crush your hopes and dreams with one unkind remark; if they were ever to find out?

In the first week of Freshman year, my doll found herself “crushing” on a boy whom she happened to share three of seven classes with. “Mom, he’s so funny, and cute…” She told me as we drove home one day. Wondering what he looked like she described him as such, “Dark hair and black rimmed glasses”. “So he looks like Harry Potter?” I asked amused. “No, he’s missing that horecrux scar atop his head,” she replied and we both smiled. Then over the course of the year, I became acquainted with the nice young man–not in person mind you, but rather after she pointed him out to me.

Toward the end of Freshman year, as her friends sat around talking about their crushes, my doll, let it slip about “J”. Since then, they’ve been working overtime trying to get their favorite gal pal and this nice, funny young man together, much to my doll’s happiness and horror. “What are they doing to me?” She’s lamented on more than one occasion, following the fun disclosure from school. “Alexa pushed me into J at a pep rally and claimed it was an accident…” She mock complained. “Did he say anything to you?” I asked. “I don’t know, I was too busy slinking away and embarrrassed to notice,” She replied. “Too bad, you never know when sparks may fly….” I replied and was slapped across the arm in return.

This year, my doll gets to share two classes with J and still finds him dreamy. What’s more, her friends have also stepped up their game to push them together. Of course, I wouldn’t be a mean mommy, if I didn’t partake in some of the fun… Arriving late to pick her up from school, I noticed J sitting outside, presumably waiting for his ride too. Instead of pulling up in front of where she sat, I parked in front of J. As she opened the car door I leaned back and said, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to J?” Watching a mortified look cross her face, she jumped into the backseat, quickly closing the door behind her. “MOM! Did he hear you?” She asked in a semi yell and screech. “I don’t think I was nearly as loud as you are now dear,” I replied as she threw her head into her hands and sighed heavily. “I can’t believe you did that!” She said, though muffled by her hands. “Did what?” I replied again and was greeted with, “Why do you persist in making my life difficult?”  Which helped produce an even wider smile.

Last week as we drove to school after a 2-hr delay, I happened to notice J was in the car behind us. As I pulled into the school dropoff sight, I said, “Hey, J is in the car behind us…” and for the life of me, I’ve never seen my doll grab her belongings and jump out of the car so quickly. “Wow!” I said and was met with a “Stop!” before she turned and walked quickly into the building, trying her best not to walk slow enough for him to catch up, or even pass pass her. I sat there simply amused by the sight.

“Mom, I overheard C and J talking about dates for homecoming. According to C, he’s asking someone…” She began. “Maybe that’s you…?” I replied. “No, C remarked how she wasn’t in our class,” She replied sadly. “Well, too bad for him doll. Besides aren’t you going with your girlfriends?” I asked. “Yes, but, sigh…” after a moment she paused and added, “I think it’s important to date while in high school–I mean, not find your soulmate or forever person, but to help you practice for when you reach college and beyond. I just think it would be nice to go out on some dates…” 

I nodded my head, listening to her thesis on the virtues of dating in High School with interest. At fifteen she’s never been on a date, let alone kissed a boy. My doll has a good head on her shoulders and we’ve shared some good conversations about the human hormonal responses to dating. However, this prompted me to reply, what I have learned from high school dating. “I know two couples from my High School class who dated all through school and married and remarkably, are still married today. I also know several others who married after high school and divorced five years later. So High School can be important in the dating scheme. But, don’t put so much importance on the idea, that you ruin the process, okay?”

A few days later she told me, “J doesn’t have a date for Homecoming”. “Hmm, his date fell through?” I asked. Shrugging her shoulders, she said, “I don’t know…” “Maybe he’ll go to the dance on his own…?” I said in return. “Maybe, I’m just happy I won’t have to see him be monopolized by one girl,” she replied. “Doll…” “Gotcha!” She said then laughed, before seemingly changing subjects until ten minutes later, showing me a secret video Alexa had taken of J in Science… “Isn’t he cute and funny?” She gushed. 

Oh brother….


Celebrating birthdays 🎉…


In 2013, the American Cancer Association began an advertising campaign that endorsed the celebration of birthdays. In the past two weeks, I’ve had the privilege to participate in two cancer walks, dedicated in the hope that one day, Cancer diseases will become a footnote in history, completely eradicated from our future and thus, celebrating everyone’s birthdays for many years to come.

Captain and Teals…

The Ellen Jackson Ovarian Cancer Walk took place on the University of Toledo’s Medical University campus, but the walk was not limited to those supporting Ovarian cancer research, but rather open to all women with gynecological cancers. My group, “The Captain and Teals”, came out to support our friend Barb’s want for more birthday celebrations; who triumphed in her battle with Vaginal cancer, though still suffers from the affects of her radiation treatments. 

In all there were probably 5-600 participants, who took a beautiful circuitous route around the Medical hospital’s campus and learned more about the cancers than previously known. The course around the campus was surrounded by beautifully decorated teal (the color designation for ovarian cancer) colored ribbons along with placards offering information about symptoms of gynecological cancers and ways to help prevent or at the very least, keep your risk for contracting these diseases low.

Then, this past Sunday, my doll and I joined team “Be the Storm” in celebration of my dear friend, Lynda, who is currently in her first year of triumph over breast cancer; by participating in the 24th Annual Susan G. Komen Race/Walk for the Cure, held in downtown Toledo. In addition to supporting our friend, we also walked in support and celebration for my husband’s sister Lisa, who is currently battling this deadly disease.

Prayer board set up by St Paul’s Lutheran church along the route.

As we walked along, I kept pointing out various signs to my doll that others carried in support of their loved ones.  Of course, we were joined by some 12,000 other participants as we took another circuitous route, this time around our downtown area. We were treated to music from area bands–high school and professional alike;  along with the Toledo Symphony and a few professional DJ’s thrown in for good measure, every few blocks, to encourage us forward, onward and upward to the finish line. 

Sunday’s Race for the Cure was especially poignant for me, having the doll along to experience the joy and exuberance that comes with the want and desire to continue celebrating birthdays with my dear friend Lynda and my sister in law and friend, Lisa. 

Hopefully this years’ walks will help everyone continue to joyfully celebrate happy birthdays next year and beyond.


For a better description of the Race for the cure walk, I suggest you read the blog I wrote after my first walk. More poignant today, considering our political climate.



A few years ago, my daughter delighted in telling me how she and her friends were “shipping” characters from the television show, Once Upon a Time. Having never taken the time to watch the show myself, I had little care nor clue about what she was describing. Since then, she and her friends “ship” everything, real or imagined, when it comes to the possibility of a couple.

For those unaware what “ship” means, here’s a quick mostly paraphrased definition from Wikipedia, “Originally derived from the word relationSHIP,  it’s the desire by fans for two or more people, either real-life people or fictional characters (in film, literature, television etc.) to be in a relationship, romantic or otherwise”. So, for example, if I took the names of the dogs we’ve previously owned (Sweet Pea/Dixie) and smashed them together, their “Ship” name would become “Sweet Dixie” which, to me is remarkably funny, because Dixie was never one you would think of as being sweet; but I digress.

Anyways, back to the story at hand…

My doll and her friends “ship” anyone they perceive to be in a relationship–or hope to be; which until recently was fine. That is, until during a recent group chat, her friends began “shipping” my doll and the boy she’s had a crush on since the first day of 9th grade (As a reminder, the doll is currently enrolled in the 10th grade). “What are they doing to me?” She asked, embarrassed-yet seemingly pleased at the same time. “Great, now they are voting between two really dumb “ship” names for us…” She added, holding her phone out for me to see, before quickly retrieving to reply back for them to “stop”, but in that certain way that also seems to encourage them, to continue.

So, what are the two names? At the risk of losing my daughter’s confidence, I cannot say. However I can offer some similarly shipped names… “Jolly” and or “DoJo”. To be honest, the boy never let me in on any information about girls he may have liked, other than his friend Alexa, who was just a dear friend to him. So this is all new territory for me…one I’m loving too. And as an added bonus, as her mean mommy–I too am equally excited and am looking forward to using those shipped names to my advantage in the not so distant future.





I’m lonesome for you…


My mother used to have a handy saying for everyone of her needs. Take for example, if she had any inclination to kill one of her nine children, she would recite (from rote memory), “Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can, seldom in a woman and never in a man,” loudly and oftentimes on constant repeat; as she moved us through the days. When my kids were little, I could often be heard repeating her ditty, save for one significant change… “Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can, seldom in my doll but never in DYLAN” When he was very young,  he would tell me of his lack of patience saying, “I have no pace momma, no pace.” 

Another clever saying of hers was, “I’m lonesome for you…”which was a wonderful notion when I attended an overnight summer camp, back in the 1970’s. Yet, as an adult it didn’t possess the same quality, especially when uttered when you already felt overwhelmed by your busy lifestyle. To be honest, her call to tell me how much she missed me, was not always my favorite call to get. However, today, in retrospect, I long to hear her utter those words to me almost hourly.

Which brings me to today’s post.

I know this blog and the photo companion blog has been hit and miss lately, not because I don’t have anything to say (having an only child is such a different experience), but rather an amalgam of different reasons. But true to form, I have indeed found myself lonesome for writing, for editing (can’t believe I just wrote that), for talking to you all about my blog and keeping you up to date where everyone in my little universe resides. So, I either have to find a better use of my time, or quit my jobs. Though losing an income for a fancy is not the best financial decision I can make. So I guess time management has now become my new goal. Moving forward, I’m going to try to write a MMM 3 times a week to start. Cross your fingers. Also I hope to post something to the photo blog soon.

My hope is to reignite my love of writing, spread some joy and maybe stave off those lonesome feelings. Hopefully you’ve been lonesome for these blogs As well. 

See ya soon.