This Is (Almost) 40

**All props for this post go to my great friend Samantha Jones Harkins, who referenced this exact speech in her own blog. That post was waaaaaaay back, but it stuck with me and I felt I needed to revisit it myself. You should check out her blog too - because it is awesome and so is she!

www.irunthesetowns.blogspot.com

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So, a few days ago, I was thinking about this radio speech which was all the rage in the summer of '99. If you want to listen to it and get all weepy and nostalgic - or not - here it is:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5NAPZp2w-o&feature=related

I lived in my very first one-bedroom apartment, the only time I could afford not to have a roommate. This foray lasted about 3 whole months, but I put in loads of time decorating that interesting space to be just perfect.  And I have an insane number of memories shoved into those 120 days, including this whole Sunscreen Song. (Why such a short stay? Well, let's just say the landlords were the neighbors and they were intrusive to the point of stalking my every move. Oh, well. You will have that, I guess. Until you decide to move out.)

Part of the "furnished" part of this apartment was a great old desk with a piece of glass on top, underneath of which you could lay out photos or concert tickets or newspaper cut-outs of the lyrics of the Sunscreen Song. I distinctly remember reading that list of things daily, through the murky old glass top. It was just the sort of thing for a 20-something college graduate with no idea of her future to think of as she drove around Morgantown's lazy summer streets, reveling in being aimless and young and free...and broke, shiftless, and (in hindsight) woefully cavalier about important life details. In other words, it was the epitome of what someone's early 20's should be. In my own, unscientific opinion.

But, for all that youthful meandering, the Sunscreen Song was pretty great. And for some reason, be it the sweat of the summer air or the smell of actual sunscreen, it popped into my mind some time ago and would not retreat.

I only now actually re-listened to it, and it surprised me in a sort of not surprising way how old I am now. All those references to being 40? Yes, that is almost me. All those ideas of what my future would hold at 40? Not so much.

I don't even know what those ideas were - but I can assure you, they were not my current reality. And not in a bad way. I suppose I envisioned something less stable and more ridiculous, with far different responsibilities. I am sure the time between then and now seemed a much further distance then than it does now. There are times when I feel 24, but know that the mileage on my soul renders me much older.

And it is great. I know, as the Sunscreen Song told me, that half of what has transpired in my lovely life is chance alone. I am thankful beyond belief for my good fortune. Yes, negatives did blindside me at 4:00 in the afternoon and they seemed, at the time, insurmountable. But I have learned that few mistakes are unfixable and each one will teach you something you did not know you needed to learn.

I wore sunscreen. I got to know my parents. I have more and more learned to respect my elders. I have danced and sung all along the way, literally and figuratively. I have come to understand that life is a marathon and not a sprint and it has released me. I have gotten tons of counseling.

And I have taken a few to look over my past, but not to the point of stupidity. And the best lesson I learned? Ironically enough, it came from a lecturer in a bar review course. (Which, if you know me, will sound like I may have early onset dementia. But bear with me.)  It went something like this:

           Don't look at taking the bar as something you have to do.
           Look at this challenge as something you get to do.
           You are lucky and privileged to be able to do this.

Right. About so, so many things in our lives. Me during the Sunscreen Song-era would not have gotten this.

I am glad I now do.

Dear One-Year-Old Baby Franco

(**Just to note that I wrote this in January, when Franco had just turned one year old, but have been tweaking it to get it perfect for this blog and will now publish for the world to see...)

Dear One-Year-Old Baby Franco,

You have now lived for one year. What a milestone! I'm fairly certain that in no other year of your entire life will you make so many drastic, dramatic changes. Sometimes it is mind-boggling to realize that a year ago you were getting used to breathing air, and now you are routinely doing things like this... 

     I am pretty sure that Gracie taught you this. It was kind of her trick first.

        The first few weeks and months of your life were kind of awesome. Your dad and I watched tons of hockey games and “Friday Night Lights” on Netflix during quiet evenings, holding you while you slept. During our days together, we napped and read “The Hunger Games” trilogy out loud and  listened to Skip and Stephen A. argue on ESPN and watched movies. Yes, some days were challenging when you acted grumpier than usual. But, that is true of everyone in every single person’s life, so why would I hold it against you?

        We traveled all over with you this past year and you proved a natural-born companion. We spent time in Alabama, flew to Arizona, went to a wedding in Wilmington, spent a week with yinz up in Western PA, partied in Ohio, and of course rocked our weekends in the Blue Lot at WVU football games, where you made friends with all the drunk 20-somethings who sit by us and who took pictures of you as you grew in between each game.  (And...as your Auntie Samantha pointed out, that is "not creepy" at all. HA!)  It has proven a wise strategy, as you are adaptable and up for an adventure at any time. You now go outside regularly  pointing to the car because you spend so much time there. 

We partied in the pool all summer with our friends and you loved it. You wore goggles and splashed and slept on the table in your car seat when you got too tired. I will always remember that summer as one of the best ever. There was (somewhat) less beer than in summers past, but the laughter seemed more meaningful and memorable.

I don't know about you, but this looks pretty comfy...

Old friends and family visited to shower you with gifts and love. You started eating solid foods in June and have never really stopped! Eating is a big time for you, so you fit in with the rest of the family for sure. Once, you ate an entire tupperware full of homemade mixed vegetables and awed all in attendance at the pool. You might have been a skinny little thing, but it was not for lack of trying! You love all kinds of foods and often regale us with your ability to put it away. As a result, we have that whole thing pretty easy and you are growing bigger and stronger every day. 

After Halloween (when you were a precious Elmo in a stroller) and Thanksgiving (when you ate pie and about eight plates of dinner) and Christmas (when you were spoiled beyond belief) we celebrated New Year's Eve by staying up with Kathy and Anderson and watching the ball drop and eating hot dogs with sauerkraut. It was not wild and crazy, but it was pretty great anyway.

What do you mean it's midnight? I'm just getting started here!

Then, it was your birthday!! Oh, what a happy time for us all. We did not have a big party and you did manage to fall and bust your lip on a chair, but that day was awesome. We ate about a pound of cake (a piece) and played and laughed and then you passed out, likely due to the massive amount of cake you ate. Then, your Daddy and Mummy watched movies together and held you while you slept, not unlike when you were first born.

Impressed? You should be!

What? For me?

A lot of times people will say, "Gosh, I can't imagine life without my baby!" (Which is silly because you don't have to imagine it. Life without the baby would look a lot like life did before the baby. Come on.) What I think people mean is this: it is hard to grasp that you have only just arrived. Once, I told your Auntie Rebeccah about something I did a few years ago and she asked, "Well, who watched Franco?" To which I responded, "He...wasn't born yet, you know." And she understood it was silly, but at the same time it was like...oh, it just seems like Franco has been here forever.

Because, it does. And sometimes I wonder if each year will seem the same or if this feeling will just pass with the rest of the phases. And that's okay too, since we are happy to have you move from this point to that. We will always be proud of you in each new milestone, and we will not mourn those times which are passed. 

Because we are not raising a baby. We are raising a man. And so far, we are doing a damn fine job, if we absolutely only ask ourselves and believe our own opinions on the matter. 

The secret just might be all that traveling. And lots and lots of cake.

Hey Lady! Update Your Blog!

Okay - I will!

You know what takes time? Updating your blog while simultaneously living your life with a little bundle of energy known as Mr. Buddy Pants/Ol' Franks/Willie Franco P.

Sometimes, for, like, say the last year or so, I have just lived without the running commentary online or through social media or by telegraph or smoke signals, or...you get it.

That doesn't mean I don't have things to say. I have something to say! I just haven't said it publicly. In today's world, does that mean it is somehow worth less than saying it privately? Probably to some. Not so much to me.

So, here it is, some nuggets of parenting wisdom for the ages:

**You don't know how funny it will be to see your kid transfixed by Seth McFarlane's Oscar-opening song We Saw Your Boobs, on repeat, sometimes up to eight times in a row. We don't know what it says about the kid, but it is hilarious. (We also don't know what it says about us. But, we don't care. Because of the hilarity.)

**You can't foresee the following: You are engrossed in the new Les Mis musical, empathizing with the poor (yet brilliantly on-pitch) peasants singing Look Down, when here comes your kid in front of the screen with a "We're Number 1" Steelers' foam finger on his hand, waving it like Ben just threw the game-winner to Santonio in Super Bowl XLIII. The juxtaposition is philosophically quite deep. Or, the kid is used to watching a lot of sports. Or both. You decide.

**When your kid wakes up and his first instinct is to "red up" the bedroom, you might have spent too much time "redding up" so far in his young life. (See also: a fascination with sweepers, a need to run full-on to any broom within eyesight, and unprompted sorting of...everything.) This is so cute now. It likely will be less cute when he needs some meds.

**When on long car trips, you don't know the benefit of mixing up the music effectively. This kid finds  both The Muppets soundtrack and Eminem absolutely hysterical. (As do I. That Marshall is a witty fellow.) This little experiment is likely short-lived, once Franco learns to talk, for repeating Kermit is okay, while impersonating Mr. Mathers is socially irresponsible. (Don't shoot the messenger! I didn't make the rules!) So, we are taking full advantage now.

**Having a kid changes you because, from now on, you have the kid. For me, that is really the extent of it. I am pretty much the same person I was before. I do most of the same things, within reason, that I always have. I don't always have enough time to watch Dance Moms, so I have to DVR more and catch up later. It is a sacrifice, but I manage.

I still wear high heels and dresses and the same clothes I used to. My hair is still long. I sometimes don't shower, especially in the summer when I swim everyday, but it's not because of Franco. I have always been that way. I know I am a brat because I get to stay home and play with him all day, but I am no more bratty now that I was before.

We went to Disney World and it was actually more fun with a kid, as are many things in life. You don't have to cart as much stuff around as people lead me to believe - maybe because I often carried a large handbag anyway, I already was used to it. (Thank you, Lindsay Lohan, for showing me the way to proper, responsible motherhood.)

Sure, some things are harder. But, isn't that always the way? Kids or no kids, life gets more challenging as we go along. Like Mike Tomlin might tell you, "It's a journey, a process."

That's all I have. I am always trying to do better, to be better. And to find the humor because once this time is gone, it's gone for good.

But, again, isn't that always the way?

First, First and First...

Little ol' Franco is almost six months old and the party does not stop for a second! Here are few more "firsts" in his universe:

His first visit with the oldest and dearest of his mum's friends. Becky and Erin and the respective kids came all the way to North Carolina so we could take this picture together! (And so we could chat, laugh, visit downtown Asheville, eat massive amounts of chocolate from The Chocolate Fetish, stuff ourselves at Papa's and Beer, swim, watch movies and eat popcorn, play with toys, reminisce, feel young and old all at once, goof off, and generally pack in the love...)

We had a wonderful visit, just like old times, except with less beer and more kids.  There are no words for the gratitude I have for this group of folks! Franco loved all the extra attention, as did all the old toys in the basement...

What can you say? The more things change, the more they stay the same...

Franco's first Father's Day with Ol' Scotty P. I think Franco looks so serious because he is attempting a negotiation/coup for some ice cream cake and Oreo cookies.  Maybe next year, fella.

First solid food, otherwise known as Franco's new favorite thing to eat: rice cereal. He genuinely loved it, and I can't say I blame him. I tried it and that stuff is good, even cold and mixed with water like we served it to him. He is thrilled.

As you can see, he already thinks he can use that spoon by himself. I imagine the conversation would go something like, "Well, I've watched you do it now three times. I know how. Give me that. I can do it myself." (Anyone who knows Scotty P. can attest to the following: Like father, like son.)


Franco's world is expanding day by day. He has all this and more in his future: peas, green beans, family visiting for next week's holiday, a trip to Ohio to see his great-grandmother, a summer visit from Auntie Rebeccah, and some pureed fruit...not necessarily in that order, but maybe in that order. I am sure he will take it all in stride, in pure Franco style! Happy Summer!!

Franco: An Update From the Trenches of Babyhood

As of the fifth of this month, Franco is four months old. Yep, already. As we know, he is quite a gregarious fellow, who enjoys good company and intelligent conversation, even if it might occur with several stuffed friends in a bouncy seat.

In his first four months, he has traveled to the following locales:

**Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to visit his relatives -

**Scottsdale, Arizona, with his parents for daddy's business trip -

**Wilmington, North Carolina, for a dear friend's wedding -

**Western Pennsylvania for a week in Stillers country with the fam -

Through all of these adventures, ol' Franco has maintained a cheerful disposition that would make Mary Poppins proud. His own personal motto as of this point: "Don't be tardy for the party." His best times include those with the most stimuli, and I think he would describe the three best days of his life as follows:

1.  The day we went to Sears for professional pictures with Grand-mama, Grand-papa, and Auntie Beckey. (See above.) Never before have I witnessed so much hammed-up behavior from a baby. (Not that I have any experience in this area, but still.)

As an aside, the skilled photographer pointed out his obvious Steelers-inspired name and informed us that, a few months before, a baby she photographed was named something even more Steelers-specific: Tunch.

There are no words, save maybe: That. Is. Awesome.

2. The day we had to run through the Atlanta International Airport to catch our connecting flight to Phoenix. If I could have spared a second to snap a photo of Franco's expression during this jaunt, I would gladly post it. However, as you can tell by its absence, no such moment could be spared.

You will have to take my word for it. Franco adored every breathless, frantic second of it, and his expression of awe and excitement ramped up my adrenaline with pure laughter. His joy seemed so incredibly infectious that onlookers clapped and cheered us on as we passed, like we were part of a bizarre airport marathon.  We made it to the gate with at least a minute to spare, and Franco's smile lasted all the way to take-off - when he promptly passed out.

3. The first pool party at our home.

Even though Franco tired himself out with all the swimming, he was able to completely enjoy the day, a preview of things to come around here.

Throughout Franco's first four and a half months, he has shown that babies are fun-filled companions who love to smile, giggle, hit your glass while you are drinking from it, pick up half-full bottles of soda with both hands to prove it possible, stand (with assistance) eye-level with a Beagle to pet its nose, roll over, snuggle, and squeal as loudly in possible when delighted with life. (Which is all the time.)

Ferris Bueller said, "Life moves pretty fast sometimes." Truer words have never been spoken, especially when life is being experienced by a baby.

We are lucky to be able to slow down once in a while to savor all the memories - and to share with all of you.

And Mean What You Say..

Well, Bobby Petrino has been fired from his job as head football coach at Arkansas. Why? How could such a thing happen to a nice, upstanding man with so much integrity? (Sarcasm? Duly noted.)

Well, actually, for a plethora of reasons. Let's see: he gave some 20-something girl he happened to be "involved with" $20,000 after hiring her to some no-name job in the athletic department while not telling anyone else on staff he happened to be "involved with" her, shortly after which he crashed his motorcycle, upon which she just so happened to be riding with him. And he's married and she's engaged. Neither to one another. (If you want the specific facts, google it. Or watch 5 minutes of ESPN. I am only here to summarize the scandal so I can get to the real point of what I want to say.)

And what I want to say is, well, color me shocked. I just so naively assumed that, even after hearing all the facts played and replayed, there was no way the Razorbacks' boosters would get rid of this guy because, despite this set of questionable judgment calls, they did hire him fully aware of his numerous other questionable judgment calls and, bottom line, he wins football games.

Sure, I agree with his firing, less so because of the newest set of boneheaded decisions, but because he never fully paid the karmic price for his previous slime ball maneuvers.  He bolted as head coach of an NFL franchise, in the middle of the season, after reassuring the owner he was fully committed to the team. And how did he tell his professional players? He left them little notes in their lockers. And you thought Berger (AKA: Peter from "Office Space") breaking up with Carrie Bradshaw by post-it note was bad. Sheesh.

In the aftermath of this critically "brave" decision by Arkansas' Athletic Director, Twitter is all a'tweet with righteous indignation. What I wish everyone in every facet of life, including college sports, would do is just step away from the podium of political correctness and be honest about things.

Wouldn't that be refreshing? What if Bobby Petrino just came out and said, "Yeah, I know I'm a tool bag, but you know what? I'll probably get another coaching offer before the sun sets this weekend because I win on the field. And winning college football games is the ultimate offering at the shrine of the almighty dollar. So, who cares what I do, because in the end I'll get another gig somewhere, just like I did the last umpteen times I screwed some program over and if you hire me, I'll probably do it to you, too, but you won't care because in the interim between now and then, I'll win. And your school will get to go to a bowl game and be paid millions of dollars and the fans will love me for it in that moment and you will make even more money."

Wow. That would be utopia. I would seriously not know what to do with myself. I think everyone would ultimately see the addiction it could be to tell the truth and then it would catch fire just like Tebowing. Or Facebook. We'd all be telling the truth and living with integrity, even if that truth were inconvenient or ugly. At least all the cards would be on the table, instead of couched in passive aggressiveness and innuendo and blatant lies.

But, until then, we are stuck with things the way they are. And Bobby Petrino will move on to another day, another several million dollars.

Maybe this time, at least he won't pretend it's for the long haul.

A Few of Your Favorite Things...

Here is the first picture I took of ol' Franco P. on his actual birthday. See that little hand trying to escape the swaddle?

By now, we all now full well that he needed to get in some fist pumps, a trademark characteristic. Often, his fists pump so furiously you can not get a good shot of him. Sometimes it looks like this:

If you are lucky enough to see him fist pump properly, then you will know that what I say is true. I certainly hope this quirk continues, but it might not, and what if we all forgot about it in the end? Tragic. 

That is why I have to document Franco's favorite things as of his nearly three whole months on this earth, leaving out the obvious eating and sleeping and various other activities shared equally by all newborns. Here we go:

**The aforementioned fist pumps, which can also evolve into karate chops

**Kicking furiously,  usually accompanied by dramatic arm movements, but not always

**Wearing mitts:

**Going on adventures, be it to the mall or to eat in a restaurant or to court with his disgruntled attorney mom or to friends' houses. Franco is always up for an outting

**Listening to sports on the television - a trait well-valued in this household

**The bouncy seat so generously leant to us by Auntie Mary Katherine

**The silly sisters (AKA Emma and Gracie) even when licking like the dickens

**Deep thinking and pondering the future - or something along those lines:

Such a long list for such a young little guy! We'll all anxiously await the continuing saga as it unfolds before our very eyes! Stay tuned...