Marvelous Marissa

I am woefully late in writing some updates on our dear Marissa, who surprises and amazes me every day with her incredible spirit.

Marissa graduated from 8th grade this spring, ending her 9 years at Lake Harriet Community School and our last year as a Lake Harriet family.

On screen: Marissa's kindergarten pic next to 8th grade photo.

It was a bittersweet ending to a difficult year after a classmate of hers committed suicide in February. The last four months of school were exceptionally difficult — Aria's empty chair loomed large in so many of Marissa's classes, including her homeroom (called advisory these days). She and Marissa had been good friends in 5th grade, even though they traveled in different circles at the time of her death. At the recognition ceremony Marissa and her classmates wore purple ribbons in memory of Aria, whose family attended the ceremony.

Marissa has always made new friends every year of school, sometimes gravitating back to friends she had in earlier years, other times making new friends she never knew before, even though they'd spent years together in the same school. Other times she made friends with kids who were new to the school, making them feel welcome from their first days in class. After the ceremony she gave hugs all around to all her friends, new and old, promising to keep in touch even though she'd be going to a different high school than most of them for high school.

Marissa and her good friend Hanna.

As summer is ending and we are looking forward to fall, she is preparing to attend Eagle Ridge Academy, a charter school that teaches classical education. "Classical" education means she is required to take 4 years of Latin, she has a "Humanities" class instead of history and language arts, and will begin reading historical accounts from the beginning. Like, ancient texts: Virgo, Euripides, Homer. She's been to the school recently for a new student orientation and a "meet-your-teacher" night where they took school portraits before the school year even began. By the end of the new student orientation she had made two new friends and was looking forward to seeing them on the first day of school. 

She is thoughtful, caring, concerned for others. A few weeks ago she and I were shopping in Uptown. We were approached by a woman who asked us to help her get something to eat, she had no money and was hungry. If I'd had any cash on me I would have given her some, but unfortunately I didn't and I had to turn her down apologetically. Marissa felt so badly that we couldn't help her, she asked if we could go to the ATM at the nearby Cub Foods to get some money so that if we saw her again we could give her some. I obliged, of course. We walked the same route back hoping to run into her again but didn't — Marissa was disappointed and the rest of the day wondered if she'd gotten anything to eat. 

I am sad that our time together is coming to an end as summer ends, but I am excited for the school year ahead of her. ERA keeps talking about how rigorous their academics are; I get concerned that it may be overwhelming for Marissa, who has never gravitated towards school for purely academic reasons but moreso for social ones. If schools could measure and value a student's compassion, empathy and thoughtfulness, Marissa would be top of her class. Still, I know she will do well, she is a smart kid who takes her time to think things through. I am hopeful that ERA will be the place where she can grow and learn at her own pace.

How's the No Drinking Thing?

I was overwhelmed with the responses I got from my post about my sober curious journey. Thanks to everyone who reached out! I received a lot of texts, messages, phone calls and so forth.

I heard things like, "I've never liked the taste of alcohol so I've never taken up drinking. Because of that I am excluded from invitations to happy hour from co-workers. Ouch."

Ouch indeed. Just because someone doesn't drink alcohol doesn't mean they don't enjoy getting together socially.

Some people told me about their own journeys into and out of sobriety, and how drinking (or not drinking) has changed their lives. These stories were so educational to hear, sometimes tragic, other times hopeful. From this I've learned that alcohol truly affects the lives of so many people in this country, whether you drink or not.

The weekend after that post I hosted a happy hour at my home. I was so grateful for those friends who brought interesting sparkling lemonades and water and had recommendations for concoctions to mix with sparkling water to make it tasty. And I found a local restaurant has a "mocktail" menu with many delicious options for alcohol-free beverages. Yum!!

Am I still alcohol-free? No. I was sober for a month, which was a great experiment. During that time I had happy hours with friends, experienced a P!nk concert and had nary a drop, enjoyed better sleep most nights, and woke up more energized earlier in the morning than I typically do. Did I enjoy these things any less because I wasn't drinking? Not at all. Did I enjoy them more? Not really, to be honest.

The one thing that did NOT happen during that month is I didn't lose a single pound. I would like to lose a little weight, and I was wondering if the calories from alcohol were impeding my ability to lose weight. The good news is that I apparently don't drink so much that just cutting out drinking would make me drop 10 pounds. (That would have been concerning.) The bad news is...I didn't lose any weight after not ingesting any calories from alcohol for 30 days.

I celebrated my 30 days of sobriety with a glass of red with a grilled steak at our house. Mmmm....steak....can't have a bite without a glass of cabernet!

And since that experiment I find myself drinking less, primarily just on weekends and in lesser amounts. I do enjoy a refreshing glass of white wine on my patio in the late afternoon, and it seemed ridiculous to deny myself that pleasure when there was no reason.

This little experiment has led to my next experiment, which is that I have begun using the weight loss app Noom. If drinking less did not help me lose weight, then I needed some real guidance to help me trim the pounds that I want to drop. More on that in another post, for those who are interested!

Thanks again to everyone for your support through this journey. I feel like 2019 has become a year of discovery and growth for me, and I'm excited for what's to come!

Ideal Independence Day

In my morning pages recently I described my "ideal day." One was an ideal day in your current reality, and another was your ideal day in an ideal world, meaning if money and resources were no object. My ideal day would start by waking up in the Italian countryside...in my ideal world, that is.

I had the most ideal Independence Day this past week and it kept me smiling all day.

Laurie has been staying with us and she is just the loveliest house guest. We had the best time sitting around drinking coffee in the morning on the patio.

Laurie and a tired Beauty and Wayne after a run.

But my day began before then, with a 10-mile skate around the chain of lakes. I haven't skated 10 miles yet this year, I had such a wonderful feeling of accomplishment. It was so quiet around the lakes at 7 a.m., not the usual bike commuters or early-morning walkers.

I had to drop Lindsey off at Turnstyle for work by 9, then back to the house for the aforesaid coffee and chatter on the patio, this time with niece Chelsea as well who had stayed the night at her brother's house. She and Laurie made plans to go shopping with Marissa, while I walked down to the 50th and France area to catch what I could of the Edina parade. I love parades — the 4th of July just isn't complete if I don't take in a parade for at least a little while. I caught it near the end of its route, and unfortunately by the time it got to the end it was pretty disjointed. There were long stretches where not a single group came by, then one would go by, and — five minutes later — another. I stayed there for about half an hour, enjoying the sights of the crowd that had gathered. Little girls in matching red white and blue dresses lined the streets, alongside boys in shorts with little white stars adorning them. A baby was lying flat on its back in its mother's lap, completely asleep with arms raised above its head like Lindsey used to sleep, with bulbous, noise-canceling headphones over its ears. The baby was oblivious to everything around it, and the mother was looking down at the miracle in her lap when there was a gap in the parade.

I returned home to a quiet house. Lindsey was working, our house guests and Marissa were shopping. Wayne and I look at each other like this was the most miraculous thing ever, and made plans to go out to lunch. We stopped at Turnstyle first to bring Lindsey her lunch, since she left in such a hurry that morning she didn't have time to pack one. We sat outside with her while she ate her bagel sandwich. She talked about how she was enjoying spending the morning detangling necklaces. They didn't have many customers so the necklaces that people consign that were hastily stored in bins and never made it onto the floor were finally a priority. Her co-workers were all grateful that this was a task she wanted to do, because it was loathsome to them!

Wayne and I lunched at a restaurant called Town Hall Station that I discovered by accident when I had to find alternate routes around a bridge closure. It's a former gas station, and it's completely adorable with service station decor. We had hoped to eat outside but it was just starting to sprinkle, so we sat inside by the large open garage doors, feeling the breeze and listening to the patter of the rain. Wayne had a burger and beer, I had a glass of wine and a chicken taco was that unbelievably delicious. We visited and eventually noticed that every TV in the place was turned to Wimbledon coverage. We got into watching the match that was on TV and had to stay to watch the final point. Nadal was moving on to the third round, battling an up-and-comer who had already trounced a favored player in the first round.

Back home, I began to prep food for dinner, making cupcakes for Lindsey's "RBG dissent" cupcakes (since her batch the night before hadn't turned out), and boiling potatoes and eggs for potato salad. Marissa, Chelsea and Laurie arrived home and each got a little quiet time. They had enjoyed a lovely lunch at Cov.

Later Laurie commented to me about what an amazing young lady Marissa is — so polite, thoughtful and kind. It was so nice to hear confirmation that somehow, we are doing something right in raising our girls. Then again, I can't even take credit for Marissa's beautiful spirit.

Food prep done, I was able to sneak a nap in while Wayne picked Lindsey up from work. And then it was time to cook! Laurie made grapefruit margaritas that were refreshing, Lindsey worked on her cupcakes, laughter and chatter was on the patio, in the kitchen, everywhere. We had hoped that Kristi would be able to join us, but unfortunately was not able to get off work as there were enough patients in the hospital that she was needed. So we raised a glass in her name and gave thanks to nurses everywhere.

We gathered around our table and passed all the goodies: grilled burgers and brats, buns, condiments, homemade potato salad, baked beans. I was informed by consensus that my potato salad was not as good as Sherrie's. Yes, yes I know. But it wasn't unedible, so there is that.

After dinner we gathered outside for more laughter and stories. Eventually we decided to get ready to head to the fireworks. Marissa offered up her blanket and we all got into the car for the 5-minute drive in the neighborhood. We drove down to where we could access the Minnekahda Golf Club from its back entrance, which they open up for neighbors to get onto their grounds for the fireworks that they host.

We watched the sun go down and savored seeing the sky light up before finally falling dark. The fireworks were so wonderful! Chelsea could not believe that we could get to an area to see them that was so close without having to show up 3 hours in advance or battling crowds or traffic to leave.

Pre-firework sunset with crescent moon.

Ready for some fireworks!

There was an outdoor bar at the club that was serving members only, Wayne somehow passed off that we were guests of [insert member name here] and got us a couple of glasses of wine.

After the finale we packed up our things and were back home in 10 minutes. Other people went to bed while Lindsey and I stayed up and watched two episodes of "Stranger Things" season 3 which had just dropped. It was 1 a.m. before we finally said we called it quits and went to bed.

The ideal Independence Day.

Writing a "To Done" List

I have started using an app called "Noom" to start tracking my nutrition and exercise, in an attempt to get healthy and lose some weight. "Noom" is all about the psychology of why we eat what we eat, what triggers us to make unhealthy decisions and help us counter those. The goal is to help people make better choices moving forward so users can maintain a healthy weight the rest of our lives.

This week the coaches at Noom had us do an exercise and create a "to-done" list, and I thought it was too good to not share with others.

We all have a "to-do" list, right? Be it a for work, home, family or just you, we've all got a running list of things we need to do. Mine often consists of stuff like: get groceries, make a dinner menu for the week, run kids around to appointments, make various phone calls for house projects, et cetera. That doesn't include client projects or other things that make their way onto that list.

The coach at Noom asked us to make a "to-done" list. List all of the things that you've accomplished this past week or month or whatever, those things that were most important to you. Your "to-done" list could look something like this:

1. Had a successful project launch at work.
2. Finally made it to the dentist which I've been putting off.
3. Spent time with friends at a happy hour.

Review that list, and now ask yourself, "What of these things is important and will be remembered?" 

This became really poignant when one of my group members posted her list, which consisted of many enjoyable activities like gardening, spending time with her grandkids, finally seeing a friend she hadn't seen in decades. She had this to say about her list:

"I've been retired for 13 years, and I've told myself that there is so much I want to do in retirement. I thought I would have less stress, but I still have stress and have more health issues than ever. Making this list have made me focus on the most important things in my life...my health and how much time I have left to enjoy it. Today is a new day with opportunities and I am going to make the best of it."

Wow. All that discovery from a weight-loss app? Yes.

Before reading her post I had made a list of my own. As expected, it consisted of many things that had been on my "to-do" list that were now done: Grocery shopping. Cleaning. Running kids around to appointments.

I made a second list after I read hers, and it read a little differently:

And then I had this epiphany: Those things that are on my "to-done" list need to start by being on my "to-do" list. I need to make room in my life for those things that bring fulfillment and happiness to me and to those around me. My kids probably won't know or care about how much grocery shopping I did, but Marissa will definitely remember going paddleboarding on a beautiful summer day with her mom, and Lindsey will have memories of learning how to drive with me in the passenger seat. (Hopefully not traumatic memories.)

Now I ask you: What things do you need to put on your "to-do" list so they make your "to-done" list?

Journey through Motherhood

At "Time to Fly" event benefiting CCRF, 2009

In my neighborhood I am surrounded by mothers at every stage of the journey. My next-door-neighbor has an adorable soon-to-be 3-year-old, down the street are siblings 8 and younger, across the street is a teenager and down from him are recent empty nesters.

My girls will be 16 and 14 this year — we are nearing the end of the "raising" portion of parenthood. Soon we will be entering the "why doesn't she ever call" portion of parenthood, followed shortly, I've heard, by the "my kids finally appreciate me" portion.

I find this stage to be rather ironic.

I mean, when our kids are little, they are just so darn cute, but they are also so much darn work! Their fingers and faces are always sticky, they are constantly needing to be fed, changed or taken to the bathroom, bathed, reasoned with, (as much as you can reason with babies or toddlers), and so on and so forth. They are a lot of work, from which parents often need a break. If I ever had even an hour to myself in my home without my children around, what a joyous time it was! Laundry got done, floors got mopped, windows got cleaned. One time Wayne and I took advantage of a "parents night out" at KinderCare, where they stayed open until 10 p.m. so parents could have a date night, and he and I washed all the windows in our house. They hadn't been washed since our kids had been born, we were happy to have spent our child-free time that way.

Marissa decided not to smile this day. 2012

Then your kids grow and grow, and at this stage they are...people. Fascinating, interesting people! They have opinions and ideas and really big, new words to communicate them. They are absorbing the world around them, making their own decisions about what's right or what's wrong, and wow, look out world, there is some change a-coming! They are so fun to do things with, to go shopping, or out to eat. 

But just as your kids get really fun to hang out with, they don't want to hang out with you. They'd rather be with their friends, watching movies, playing soccer, going to Starbuck's, building relationships with friends their own age. 

Soccer, Summer of 2017

Lindsey, Homecoming 2018

Marissa Selfie, 2019

When they want to spend time with me, I'll be here, ready to reminisce with them about the good old days when they used to play with water tables, push the dog around in a doll baby carrier, and do other silly things. Those stories are always good for a laugh.

Happy Mother's Day. 

Sweet 16 for the First Kid

Eight years ago, I wrote a blog post called "Halfway to 16." It was about Lindsey turning 8, and 16 seemed so very far away.

Now her 16th birthday is already 3 days ago. How things have changed!

At 8, she was excited to get clothes for her Barbie dolls, but was equally excited to get an iTunes gift card. I'm pretty sure she bought some Katy Perry songs with that gift card.

At 16, she asked for a large plant for her bedroom. Yes, a plant. She also has a fixation on all things flamingo. She finds them silly and quirky. So I also purchased a large standing metal planter for her room. On Friday, her actual birthday, she and I made a trip to Bachman's to get just the right plant for her room and for her flamingo.

I felt like I was being watched as I worked.

Lindsey's large plant, nicknamed Za Za. 

She got a silk butterfly hair clip to go with her butterfly dress that she wore to the Southwest winter formal. She loves dresses, she probably has 8 or 10 hanging in her closet at any time. Thanks to her job at Turnstyle she puts dresses on hold for her to try when she's not working. The butterfly dress was purchased there for $7.50. I think the hair clip cost more by the time I paid for shipping.

Opening gifts, her Marvel blanket always nearby to warm her.

She also got a journal, the feminist's journal. Lindsey has become quite the activist, marching in the women's march, even when it was 20 below zero, following politics, getting involved in environmentalism and, of course, helping animals. This summer she's going to start volunteering at the Animal Humane Society and she can't wait.

Like when she turned 8, she opted for a dinner at Benihana's restaurant. We went with Kristi, who lives in Minnesota now, unlike when Lindsey turned 8. We were thoroughly entertained by the chef who was fantastic and really made Lindsey feel special throughout the meal.

Lindsey wanted to dress up, I couldn't convince Marissa to not wear a hoodie.

Aunt Kristi with Lindsey, wearing her butterfly dress with matching hair clip.

In my original blog post I wrote about how my dad joked about coming to Minnesota once a year to see my kids. Back when they were small he'd say stuff like, "Geez, just 12 more visits and I'll be going to a high school graduation!" Sad to say, he didn't live long enough to see either of our kids graduate from high school. But I know that he is looking down and would be really proud of the young women they are becoming.

Lindsey's first beer! Just kidding. It's a frothy iced tea.

The Artist's Way

About a month ago I began a 12-week course called "The Artist's Way." I had never heard of it before I started it. My sister-in-law Laurie is doing it and encouraged me to give it a try. And by "encouraged" I mean she bought me the book and a journal to go along with it and said, "Do this." Couldn't get more "encouraged" than that!

Here's the gist of the book and course: all human beings, having been created, are capable of  creativity. We simply have to channel the creativity that is given to us by [insert belief here, God, the Universe, the Divine One, whatever or whomever], and creativity is ours to tap into at any time. We do not have to "wait" for inspiration, we simply need to be open to the experience, or as the author says, "unblocked," be still, and listen.

In a nutshell.

What I'm finding is that to "unblock" your creative self you need to do a lot of self-assessment. Outside of going to therapy, which only a portion of the population does, how else do people improve their personal selves? I've been to hours and hours of professional training: nonprofit conferences, writing/storytelling seminars, how to be a better manager, how to be a better employee, etc. etc. But this course is really "how to be a better person."

My whole sober curious journey began when I started thinking about things that block my creativity, and alcohol was one of them. I decided to try cutting it out of my life, and in the very next chapter I read, "At this point in your journey you may find yourself wanting to remove some toxicity from your life, be it a toxic friend or a toxic behavior." Huh! Imagine that, I was one week ahead of the author.

It has you do exercises like: "If you had five other lives to live, what other professions would you be or do?" Then the next day it has you list 5 more. One of the exercises has you list 20 things you enjoy doing. Twenty! Try it. I did, and I was at a loss after eight. I've got to start some hobbies before I can retire or I'm going to be bored AND boring!

I'm on Week 4 which is the "reading deprivation" week. This is the week that you are not allowed to read anything, to create silence within yourself to allow your own creativity to flow. Two things about this were crushing for me:

1. I just started the novel "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman and it is AMAZING. I'm only a few chapters in and now had to take a one-week break from it which makes me mad because I can't wait to pick it up again.

2. "No reading" also means no social media, so I deleted my social media icons off my phone and logged out on my computer so I'm not tempted to scroll.

The social media one is by far more difficult. Still, five days into this reading deprivation thing, I find myself automatically hitting where the icons on my phone used to be. I check it out of habit several times an hour. It's a great habit to break, I may just leave the icons off my phone from now on.

Supposedly I'm going to start hating this journey starting around week 5 or 6, so I thought I'd better write about it now before I turn against it. We'll see how all of this goes!

No More Wine Time

I am setting an intention, which means you, dear reader, get to be a part of this.

I have decided to abstain from alcohol for...well, for a yet undetermined amount of time.

Lately several reports have come out talking about how the emerging "mommy drinking" culture has normalized alcoholism for women. The blog post I linked to above is a perfect example of how it happens. And our retailers have helped this along.

These are some photos of a display at PaperSource, a store that specializes in paper products; invitations, greeting cards, gift wrap, and customized invitations for special events. Plus, of course, gifts. This was the majority of the gifts available in the store yesterday, outside of the Easter display.



If I were looking for a gift for a girlfriend for her birthday, I can either refer to her addiction to prosecco, mixed drinks or wine. This is not what I would expect at PaperSource.

But really, it's not their fault. They are just jumping on the bandwagon of jokes about how our kids drive us to drink, right?

I find myself craving a glass of wine around the time I would start cooking dinner. I truly embody Julia Childs' quote about cooking with wine. During the week I used to ignore it, but then the days I would cave and open a bottle went from weekend nights to Thursday through Sunday nights.

Then I would have a glass with dinner. And then a titch more with a piece of chocolate or something for dessert, and the bottle that my husband and I had opened together was gone.

But then...what will I drink with the movie I plan on watching later on?

That is my true downfall — I enjoy having a drink while watching a movie. And sometimes I stay up late to watch a movie all by myself. After all, some days it's the only "alone time" I get. Before I know it bottle #2 is empty or nearly empty.

All without feeling any effects of the alcohol until the very end of the movie.

There are an average of 635 calories in a bottle of wine; by the end of the evening I would have had nearly 900 calories worth of wine. Do that several nights a week and suddenly the weight I'm trying to drop won't drop. Shocking.

Plus the fact that I can drink two glasses of wine with no effect is concerning. It sets a bad example for my kids.

So...I've decided to abstain entirely for a time, to give my body a break from having to process all that poison. I'm paying attention to my "critical moments," those times when I really crave a glass of wine, when they happen, who I'm around when they happen, and choosing a different behavior instead of opening a bottle. Sparkling water and limes will always in my house, so I can get a refreshing drink without need the alcohol to make it taste refreshing.

We'll see how this goes. Who knows, maybe I'll reduce my alcohol tolerance and be able to return to having just a drink or two at special occasions. But for now, this is the intention I am setting and I appreciate all of your support in this endeavor.

Is Online School Right for Your Child?

Lindsey's "classroom," efficiently located across from the frig.

I've had so many people reach out to me when they discover that our eldest attends an online high school. They are interested in this option for their child for a variety of reasons, could it work for them?

The answer?

It depends.

Lindsey's initial reason for attending an online school was to reduce her anxiety, which was like a burr under her saddle, getting rubbed every day that she attended a bricks-and-mortar school. All of her energy was going towards just existing at school; anything the teachers taught went in one ear and out the other. When she came home at night she was so exhausted from the emotional drain of it that she couldn't concentrate to complete her homework.

We considered other options and eventually landed on online school. Sure, it didn't do anything to reduce her anxiety, but at least she could still learn in an environment that was healthy for her.

What's that environment look like, you ask?

Well...honestly, it's a teenager's dream.

She sleeps in as late as she wants (within reason, I usually start coming around to bug her at 10). She has to attend each class once per week (once, not daily). She attends classes via a "live lesson," which is a webinar with an active chat session for students to participate in class. She doesn't have to deal with kids kicking her chair, distractions from other students' bad behavior, forgetting homework or other stressers. There is no high school drama. No one is talking behind anyone else's back, no one cares what she wears every day, there's no pressure to "fit in" because all her classmates are virtual.

She turns her work in on her own schedule. The school has recommended due dates for the work so that students don't procrastinate and leave everything until the end, but there are no penalties for turning work in "late;" it's all about whether or not you understood the lesson and not the timeliness of when you understood it or how long it took you to complete.

She takes breaks in the middle of the day as needed. This could entail laying on the couch with our dog, going for a walk, or running an errand with me. Sometimes she works through a ton of lessons in two days in order to give herself the third day off for a special outing.

Basically, she's works for herself with no "boss" to ask her when she's coming in to the office, how many hours she's worked and when the projects she's working on will be done. They'll get done when they're done, on her own schedule, for the boss' evaluation and grading.

It's a freaking dream. Except.

Except.

She has to be incredibly organized. Self-motivated. Avoid procrastination. Figure things out for herself. Be independent, but know when to ask for help (and where and how).



This photo is of her lesson plan she created for herself before our spring break. Her spring break and Marissa's did not coincide this year, but, since Lindsey's education is online, we agreed that if she could do her week's work in advance then she can work through her own spring break and go on vacation when her school was back in session.

She had to have the motivation to work on these lessons every day, even though she did not have the support of teachers to call or lessons to attend to understand the material. And she did it, she got it done.

This happens every day, not just the times she wants to take different time off away from school.

Math is not a strong subject for her, nor is it for me. The other evening she worked on a single geometry problem for an hour. A full hour. She was determined to solve it. When she had exhausted her text book, recordings of live lessons, Khan academy and (last resort) me, she turned to her friends via text. Being the amazing, helpful and smart kids that they are, they helped her so that not only did she solve the problem but she understood the concept. I was in bed at 11:30 and heard her getting ready for bed, making more noise than usual. I thought she was frustrated, turns out she was elated. She was so excited that she finally figured out the problem and was grateful for her friends' help.

Would you child do that? Would your child work on a single frustrating problem without screaming, without throwing a book, without giving up, for an hour until s/he solved it?

Would you child create schedules for him/herself, follow them, and, if s/he got off-track, find ways to make up the work in a shortened timeline?

Would s/he check in on grades on a weekly basis, call or email teachers as needed and negotiate workload with them?

If not, then you may need to find other options for your child.

The other piece of this puzzle that makes online school a good option for Lindsey is that I'm around and available all day long. When she first started she was working at home, by herself, all alone, all day long. She was unmotivated, somewhat depressed and isolated. We realized early on that there was no way a 14-year-old could be left to her own devices all day long with no human interaction and somehow succeed at school. A large piece of why online school works for her is because I'm here and available, both educationally and emotionally. If she's super frustrated, I recommend taking a walk. If she is taking too long of a "break," I gently encourage her to get back to work. I'll get her out of the house, encourage outings with friends, take her to field trips where she can meet her virtual classmates in person, and help her with the non-educational part of her school day.

When she first began online school she was extremely isolated, but now that she's more confident in the classroom she is branching out, keeping in touch with her friends from middle school, making new friends in her online school, holding down a job and doing many other activities that help reduce her anxiety. She's in National Honor Society and as such has to do 50 hours of volunteer work every school year, which is also motivating to get involved in the community.

Online school did not address her anxiety but it did reduce it. That's not the same thing. We reduced her anxiety by taking away something that made her anxious. As anyone familiar with this condition knows, when you do that you actually increase the person's anxiety about that thing.

Now Lindsey is focused on her singular goal of going away to college. She wants the traditional college experience, even though she knows and we assure her that there are other options available to her. That's not what she wants, she wants to prove to herself that she can manage life in whole. We are slowly working on getting her back into classrooms, a driver's ed class this summer and in-person classes through the PSEO program at her high school. She will remain in her online school throughout high school; she's getting a great education and I see no reason to change it as long as she keeps progressing on her mental health in other areas.

Online school has been a blessing to her and to our family. We already know that it is not an option for Marissa, who will be attending a traditional charter school next year, though she is envious of Lindsey's flexible schedule. Marissa does not want the responsibility of having to manage her own schoolwork, she would rather learn directly from teachers and have classmates in person for her to rely on for help and commiseration.

For anyone who is interested in talking about online education, I am always happy to chat! Hopefully this will be helpful for anyone interested in it who would hesitate at picking up the phone or texting me. Thanks for reading!

Just a Regular Day of Nursing...On A Day Off

Kristi on her birthday breakfast, after finishing another night shift of nursing.

My sister is a nurse. She's pretty damn amazing, and cares for people as part of and outside of her job.

One summer day she was biking back to her apartment from our place. Near her building is a bus stop where bus drivers often park their buses and take a break at the convenience store on the corner.

While a bus was sitting there and the bus driver was inside, Kristi noticed a woman sitting on the corner, her legs splayed into the street. She seemed kind of disoriented and was swaying back and forth. Kristi was concerned she was going to fall forward into the street.

Kristi could have just crossed the street on the opposite side and pedaled on her way. Being a nurse, she stopped.

She spoke with this woman for a bit. The woman was slurring her words, unsure of where she was, wasn't even sure of her name. As they spoke, Kristi noticed that she had a medical tag around her neck and she looked at it. The woman had diabetes, and Kristi immediately associated the woman's odd behavior with low blood sugar.

By this time, the bus driver had come out of the store and was going to start his route again; Kristi asked him to call an ambulance. He went back into the convenience store and guess who he called? His manager. Yep, because a metro transit manager can definitely help someone in a medical emergency! The driver came out and talked with Kristi, told her that this woman rides their bus all the time, they often see her, but they've never seen her like this.

Finally an ambulance arrived, and they began to care for this woman. Kristi stuck around to make sure she'd be all right, and the EMTs told her that the woman's blood sugar was 11. I wasn't sure what that meant, but Kristi said that's near comatose; she shouldn't have been conscious. (Normal blood sugar is between 70-130 when fasting, higher after meals.)

They loaded the woman up in the ambulance and drove off, sirens blaring, to get her the medical attention she needed. Kristi biked the rest of the way home and chalked it up to another day.

Later, when Kristi related this story to me, I was amazed. "Do you realize that you probably saved that woman's life?" I said.

"No, not really," Kristi demurred. "Someone would have stopped."

"No, I don't think so. I think people would assume she was an alcoholic, drunk in the middle of the day. No one would have called an ambulance. Even when you asked someone to call an ambulance, they didn't do it right away. If they did anything they'd probably call the cops to get her out of the street."

After a while, Kristi finally agreed that yes, perhaps, she had saved that woman's life. But, she said, "That's my job."

This story has stuck with me even though it happened last summer, or possibly even the summer before. It's because people like Kristi are in the world, people with goodness in their hearts and a willingness to step into uncertain situations, that I have hope for a better tomorrow for all of us.

Creating A Home Base: Other People's Kids

When I was young, my home was not only my home base but that of my friends. My sister could say the same thing. Our home was close to both the junior high and high school. She and I often walked home with other kids in tow and would noisily descend upon our home to consume popcorn, watch movies, play Trivial Pursuit or — gasp — work on homework. Our parents developed relationships with our friends and with their parents. To this day, my mom's close circle of friends is made primarily of couples who were parents of our friends.

I had hoped to create the same safe landing spot for my kids' friends. Our home is within two blocks of the high school that I thought our kids would be going to, but now neither of my girls are going there.

But apparently Marissa's middle school is still close enough to have friends come over often, and I am happy to host them. They are always welcome for dinner, for a movie or to just hang out.

Marissa and Carolyn baking in our kitchen. 

We have a running joke with Marissa's friend, Carolyn. Two summers ago her house was under construction and she was welcome at our home anytime to get out of the chaos at her place. We like to grill steak in the summer, and it so happened that most times that we were having steak Marissa would plan to have Carolyn over. Carolyn LOVES how Wayne grills steak, she would gobble up every bite. And every time she ate with us, we were having steak. It got to the point that if we were going to have steak I'd ask Marissa if Carolyn was available.

One time her parents told us about the time her dad asked if she wanted steak for dinner. Carolyn's response? "No thanks, you don't make it like Marissa's dad does!"

It's been a while but we still laugh about her carnivorous tendencies at our house.

Marissa and friends after a choir concert. Hanna (far left) came just to support her friends who were performing.

Marissa also has a good friend walk home with her a lot after school. They may work on homework a bit, but usually spend time snacking, chatting and snapping friends. Pretty soon this friend started calling me her "other mother." One time I came home and Marissa was already home with this friend, who called from the front room, "Hi, your other daughter is home too!" She gave me a huge and asked, "How was your day?" We jokingly tease each other about my being her "other mother" and she my "other daughter."

Sometimes she stays for dinner, other times she has to leave to go to hockey or soccer practice. But she and Marissa manage to carve out some time together to joke and laugh together.

Marissa and Hanna (not my "other daughter") ready to chill on yet another snow day.

Recently Marissa had two friends over and they had bought condoms as a gag gift for a mutual friend of theirs (a guy). He refused to accept the gift, saying that his parents would kill him if they found condoms in his room. So the girls brought the condoms over to our house and played with them. They filled one up with water and tied it shut. It eventually burst and there was a literal waterfall of water in our kitchen. I retrieved towels, handed them out, and they all helped clean up the kitchen. No big deal.

"Thanks for mopping my floor!" I joked with them.

Later I found out that one of the girls lives in a very conservative household. She could NOT believe that not only did Marissa buy condoms and bring them home, but that her mom found out and it was just fine. And...they made a mess in the kitchen but hey, it was just water and it cleans up, so it wasn't a problem as well. She was in shock. "I am never coming to your house again!" she declared. "You guys are clearly a bad influence." She was over later that week, of course.

I hope we continue to be a safe home base for my girls' friends when Marissa starts high school next year. It's been fun so far, that's for sure.

A Child's Funeral

Last week I attended a funeral for a child.  I hope to never have to do that again.

This child was 13, a classmate of my youngest, and had taken her own life. As if that wasn't devastating enough, no one — no one, not teachers, family, friends — had any idea that she was suicidal. Friends knew she had been depressed recently, but no one had any idea that she was having thoughts of ending her life. She grew up in a large family with many aunties and cousins, a loving mom and grandparents. She was a talented artist, musician and beautiful in so many ways.

It's difficult to guide your children through grief when you yourself need to process as well. There were some things said at the funeral that really touched me, and I wanted to get them down.

One of the minister had the following message (I'm paraphrasing):

After someone takes their own life, the survivors are left with the question "Why?" Many came to the funeral feeling grief, or anger, or confusion, or any combination of these things. Why? The truth is, we may never know why. 

I took comfort in this, in part because I had been through every one of those emotions in processing the idea of a 13-year-old taking her own life. And...I took comfort in letting go of the "why's." They weren't mine to discover or know, I could let go of them.

During the beautiful euology that one of the aunts shared, she talked about Aria's suicide.

Look around this church, see all the people who loved and cherished her. If only she could see this. But she was 13. She didn't understand the finality of her actions. She didn't have the life experiences to know that pain is temporary. Pain ends; it molds you, it can shape you and make you stronger, and it always goes away. She didn't realize that, and she only saw one way out of her pain.

I've been mulling this one over since I heard it. I never thought of pain as temporary, but it is. It will ease with time, with help from others, with treatment. I have great sympathy for people who live with chronic pain, though I suspect even that pain goes away at times, in the same way that it flares.

The last minister said a message that was difficult to hear, which is that suicide is a sin, in that God's commandment of "thou shall not kill" also means you shall not kill yourself. But he said it is a forgivable sin, as this girl was a child of God, baptized in the church and a follower of Jesus. I still find this hard to digest, because I do not believe you need to believe in Jesus to see God, but that's a thread for another day to follow.

He also said, "Aria was not perfect." This was jarring to hear after hearing so many people recount her many wonderful traits. "But I can say the same for everyone in this room, myself included. No one is perfect. We are created in God's image, but we are human and have our flaws. That is why forgiveness exists, to forgive ourselves for our imperfection."

The music was beautiful, the many messages were heartfelt and incredible. During the time of remembrance they played a video that her good friend had made of various classmates giving their final wishes to Aria. The minute it started people around me began to tear up, just to hear these young voices saying good-bye. Marissa was included in the video and had quite a long clip. I could hear her quietly sobbing form where she stood with her friends while it played.

The final recessional song was "Stand by Me," but the twist was that it was a video of Aria playing her ukulele and singing the song. She had such a beautiful voice. Then the video stopped and the song was taken over by the pianist. What a touching way to end the service.

My Mental Health Education: A Tutorial

Since my eldest was diagnosed with severe general anxiety disorder nearly 5 years ago, my family has learned so much about resources available to help those with mental health issues. The good news is that there is more available today than there were then. The bad news is that there still aren't enough resources for everyone who needs help, leading to long wait lists for specialized services, hampered further by insurance companies' unwillingness to pay. Try telling your suicidal teenager to hold off on acting on those feelings until a bed opens up.

Unlike services for physical ailments, the kinds of options available for mental health care are not widely known to people until they need them.

Develop a weird rash? See a dermatologist. Have a strange skipping heartbeat once in a while? See a cardiologist. Develop life-stopping anxiety? See a...psychiatrist? Psychologist? Therapist? All of the above? Do I need cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT)? Dialectical behavior therapy (DBT)? Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR)? Most people have an idea of the kind of specialist to go to for physical ailments; even if they didn't, they could go to a general practitioner who would steer them in the right direction. But for mental health care? Better start educating yourself.

I have recently helped steer a friend through a mental health crisis for her daughter. She is grateful because if she didn't have a friend to lean on, she wouldn't have known where to turn, and the hospital where her daughter is right now is not about educating her, just getting her daughter healthy enough to leave the hospital.

So I thought I'd share some of the education that I've learned for those who may need it. My disclaimers:

1. These are the terms as I've defined them through our family's experience. They're probably not the "right" ones, but they work for my understanding as a parent and advocate trying to get resources for my children.

2. I'm not intentionally ignoring other mental health conditions like schizophrenia, bipolar, manic disorders and others. I just have no experience with them, so I only speak to those resources that treat depression and anxiety/OCD.

Inpatient care is almost 100% reserved for those whose condition has deteriorated to the point that ending their lives is a viable option to them. Both of my kids' primary diagnosis is anxiety, but at that point in their lives their anxiety was so uncontrolled that it caused suicidal thoughts. Just because your kid does not have depression does not mean you won't encounter these programs in the course of his/her treatment. I have learned that depression and suicidal thoughts can be and often are completely unrelated.

First, the basics of who's who:

Psychiatrist/Psychologist/Therapist: The psychiatrist is the only one who can prescribe medications, the other two can't. We honestly have never used psychologists in our daughters' care, only therapists and psychiatrists.

If your child is in an inpatient program, the psychiatrist is the head of the care team. All decisions regarding your child's care will be run by and approved by him/her. Connect with this person daily if possible for updates and discussions on treatment.

For outpatient care, the therapist tends to head up the care for your child and the psychiatrist is one of the members of the care team.

Kinds of treatment programs:

Inpatient: This is when the child is in the hospital 24/7. There are different kinds of inpatient care, though. We've had experience with two.

Acute or Lock Down Units: This is for children and adolescents who are actively suicidal, meaning they have the thoughts, plans and intent to end their lives. These units have extremely limited visitation hours, limited contact with outsiders, restrictions on clothing and other items that can be used for self-harm. If your child is not actively suicidal, this is not the right fit for him/her. For both of our children, if they have been on a lock-down unit it would have made their anxiety so much worse.

Sub-Acute or Intensive Treatment Unit (ITU): This is a step down from a lock-down unit, still has some restrictions on clothing allowed (no draw strings, no shoe strings allowed) but much fewer restrictions in other areas.

Both of these provide the reassurance of 24-hour care to ensure that patients are safe. Parents of kids who have ever been suicidal know the fear of falling asleep at night and hoping that their children don't do anything to themselves while they're sleeping. Ready for bedtime? Not tonight, thank you, I'll sleep after my kid's gotten help.

These programs also provide group therapy, one-on-one therapy, family therapy and psychiatric care on a daily basis.

Outpatient: Outpatient means that they do not stay overnight in a facility. Both of my kids started with outpatient, went to inpatient briefly, then back to outpatient. Some kids start at inpatient because their mental health reaches a crisis point. Either way, they will go back to outpatient care. These are the kinds of outpatient programs we've learned about.

PHP (Partial Hospitalization Program):  This is an outpatient treatment program that lasts 5-8 hours of a person's day, making attending work or school difficult. Most people take a leave of absence while in a PHP. PHPs can sometimes be in a hospital, but many now are in clinics that are fully outpatient based and look nothing like a hospital. PHPs have daily one-on-one therapy, group therapy, time for patients to do whatever "assignments" they need to do for their mental health, and psychiatric care, as well as family therapy as the family is able.

"PHP" is the biggest misnomer of the entire mental health care system. This term has been around for 50 years or more, it needs a new name.

IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program): This is a program that lasts between 2-4 hours per day. It has many of the elements of a PHP but in shorter spurts. Not every element occurs every day; group therapy may occur once or twice a week instead of daily. It's another step back to normalcy, when mental health treatment no longer takes up a significant portion of each day.

Therapy: The last and usually longest step in returning to full mental health. For my daughter who recently completed an IOP program, she went back to her therapist on a 3x/week basis for a short time, then stepped down to 2x/week, hopefully back to 1x/week at some point. There are so many kinds of therapy, I'm just going to point you to a WebMD article that I think does a great job of summarizing all of the different kinds of therapy available. Click away.

Depending on your child's condition, your child may need to go from an inpatient program to a PHP program to an IOP program. And...the inpatient hospital may not always make the best recommendation. We wish we had known what a PHP program and IOP were back when our eldest was in the hospital. (Although there were very few if any IOP programs in the area at the time.) PHP programs existed then; the hospital she was in had one the floor above her! But they never recommended it for her, they said she would be good going back to once-weekly therapy. I believe she would've had a quicker road to recovery had she received intensive help right after hospitalization.

We also learned that lapses in care are extremely detrimental. We've had gaps in therapy for our oldest, once when her therapist left the practice and it took us a few months to find a new one, another time when the second therapist we connected her with was not a good "fit" and we didn't make her go until we found yet another. Like strength training, if you don't do it, you lose what you build. She regressed in both time periods and because anxiety is an invisible illness, we had no idea how badly her mental state had gotten until another crisis occurred. Now we are paranoid about making sure there are no gaps. If her therapist ever has to cancel we find another day within the week to replace the session, and for the holidays we schedule around days off far in advance, especially because her anxiety is highest around the holidays (like it is for many).

For some, maintenance care means therapy on a consistent basis for years. THIS IS TOTALLY OKAY AND DOES NOT MEAN A PERSON IS CRAZY. I see my chiropractor every two weeks if I want to avoid getting migraines. Why would I ever judge someone for seeing a therapist consistently for decades? Do it if it keeps you healthy.

And there you have it, everything I know about mental health resources in a nutshell. Of course, I wouldn't know ANY of this if I hadn't been open with others about what my kids were going through. Once I started telling friends and neighbors about what was happening, I learned that they had gone through similar challenges and I got educated from them. Many people had struggled with advocating for their child's mental health and no one ever knew to help! My point is...we can't solve the problem when we don't talk about the problem. I hope this guide helps even once person navigate the system.

High Density Housing ≠ Highly Affordable Housing

This is a complicated issue, I'll try to make it brief. So the reader knows I'm not talking out of my ass without making this the length of a novel, I'm using lots of links to referring material.

The city of Minneapolis recently approved a 20-year growth plan called "Minneapolis 2040." It sets a vision for the city of Minneapolis in terms of housing, transportation, living-wage jobs and more, all with an underlying goal of eliminating disparities in our city.

Eliminating disparities?

You know how you drive through one neighborhood and it looks "tough," and you know you wouldn't want to be caught walking down the street after dark there, and you go to another neighborhood and it's got beautifully manicured lawns and luxurious homes? The disparity in which people of color tend to live in the first neighborhood described, whites in the second?

THAT disparity, which was brought about by redlining, which as recently as 50 years ago allowed people to discriminate on the basis of race, not allowing people of color to buy homes in certain areas of the city. This was further strengthened by zoning some areas as single-family and others as high-density, meaning that even if you had the "right" color skin you had to have the means to pay for a larger home. Which, people of color didn't tend to have back then, due to discrimination in job accessibility, transportation to those jobs, etc. There's a lot to fix.

Don't get me started on that weird jog in Interstate 94 that occurs in Minneapolis, either.

I am ALL FOR eliminating disparities. I would WELCOME varied housing in my area, I would VALUE sending my children to a school that is not 85% white.

The main ways in which Minneapolis is addressing this is to eliminate zone housing, making some neighborhoods single-family and others high-density. They would like to see a variety of densities spread across the city, so that people of varying income levels can live in many different areas of the city. The idea is that an apartment is more affordable than a duplex which is more affordable than a house, and if they're all on the same street then people of varying income levels can live there. It sounds great, but in practice, already it is not working.

Take these two homes, for instance. Caveat: they are not in Minneapolis, they are in Edina, but across the street from Minneapolis, and are a great example of how people interpret "high-density."

These are both duplexes. The first was built in the 1950's, the second was built in 2017 and sold in January 2018. The second was built on the site of a cute 1950's bungalow, which lives on in Google Streets memory.

Hey everybody, high-density housing! Surely they are both affordable, right?

According to the listing for the 1950's duplex, it rents for $1,495/month for a 1,350 sq ft. duplex. The latter, built in 2017, is 3,049 sq ft and was sold for $866,000. Zillow estimates that the rent for this duplex is $3,152/month.

On paper, they are both duplexes. In practice, they are wildly different. As a matter of fact, the home that was torn down to make room for the monstrous duplex was valued at $353,000 prior to being razed, an incredibly affordable home in Edina.

The best part? These two are right next to each other. You can see the disparity in size in this photo:

I bet that little duplex is missing the sunlight it used to get from its eastern exposure. No more sunrises for you, little guy!

The same thing is already happening in Minneapolis in light of the move toward high-density housing across the city.

Take, for instance, Ewing Place Apartments, being built just three blocks from us at the corner of Ewing and 51st Street.

Architect's rendering of Ewing Place, currently under construction.

Here's what used to be there:

Three little houses, all in a row.

Awww, aren't they cute?! The perfect starter home for a couple. Check out this cute little guy:

Seriously! One bedroom, one bath, 544 sq feet, built in 1920. So cute! It was sold in 2001 for $105,000.

The person who purchased that home in 2001 also purchased the other two next to it, and they were all rentals. Various families and couples would rent for a time, and he sold all three to a developer who tore them all down to build the coming Ewing Place apartments.

So...how affordable will these places be once the "high-density" housing is available?

According to the website for Ewing Place, they will rent you a 709 sq ft one-bedroom apartment for $1,935 per month. The largest floorplan available with 1,355 sq ft will rent for $3,618 per month.

So, let me get this straight:

We removed THREE tiny little houses, all renting very affordably, to build a high-density apartment building, with rental rates THREE TIMES that of the original homes?

Got it.

I understand the goals of the plan, truly I do, and I also want the same thing, but I do not believe that the changes that were made will have the desired impact. High density does not equal highly affordable. Not to mention the loss of history of homes that were approaching 100 years of age.

There's more, much much more, but I will save that for another blog post.

Undecorating

The Floria-Horsman Christmas tree, 2018

Growing up, my mom used to make sure there was at least one piece of Christmas décor in every room during the holidays. This included my sister's and my bedrooms, which often had to make room for a Santa or reindeer on our dressers. Wreaths on doors, mistletoe hanging, beautiful centerpieces on tables, and, of course, the tree. Our home was warm and inviting all year round, but especially during the holidays.

As a kid, I looked forward to some day decorating my own home with similar items when I grew up. And then I grew up. And I realized that everything that comes out has to be put back away.

The undecorating. Ugh.

Sure, it's lots of fun to decorate the house for the holidays. It's an exciting time, you're looking forward to time with friends and family, and it's nice to spruce things up. But then, come January 1, the holidays are over, gifts unwrapped and put away, meals shared and guests gone, and everything has to go back. I hate the undecorating, it is the worst. Which means, of course, I procrastinate.

We don't procrastinate on the tree, of course, because we don't want a fire hazard in our house. But everything else? It could be February or even March before the last pieces of décor get put away. That is, if I was the only person in charge of the undecorating.

But, if you know anything about my other half, I am not the only one who can undecorate, and this particular person gets incredibly annoyed at having Christmas decorations out in February. So, if the décor is still out by January 31st, he dutifully goes around the house, gets everything picked up, and puts it away.

Therein lies the rub.

I have specific boxes for specific items, and each box has written on the outside what is supposed to go inside. This does not seem to matter, though, as each year, when I start to decorate, what I find in each box is usually different from what is written on the outside.

This year the box marked "Standing Santa" had a reindeer in it. The standing Santa never made its way into a box, while the box the reindeer was supposed to be in was utterly empty on its shelf.

I shouldn't complain, honestly, I appreciate that he does it. After all, he didn't unpack it, so he doesn't know which items came from where. Sure, it's clearly written on the outside of each box, but his goal is to put away, not to put away correctly. Over the years, it has created some funny findings.

I have a nativity set given to me by a family very dear to me, made of fragile ceramic. Each year, I find this set packed into a different box. Four or five, to be exact, all of which have said at one point or another "nativity set" on it, and either had it crossed out (or not), and had something else written over it. Or it still says "nativity set" but what's inside isn't.

If a stranger came into our house and looked at our storage area, he would wonder how many nativity sets one family needs.

But finally, this year, we have a teenager who cares. She cares as deeply as her father that not only does the house get decorated, but that it also get undecorated in an orderly fashion. God bless their genes!

Lindsey helped me decorate the house this year and was horrified by the state of the boxes and packing the décor was in, though she did enjoy reading up on the news of the times from 1997. She insisted that we go through all of the boxes that ever had "Xmas" scrawled on them and pull everything out. We found decorating items that she has never seen in her lifetime; we never use them. We purged the stuff that was never used and put out the items we wanted out. Then, on December 26th, we hit "The Christmas Corner," a pop-up store in Southdale Mall with beautiful Christmas décor and bought some new items at 50% off.

Just this past week, she and I undecorated. She insisted we buy a large RED tote, so we could instantly see which tote had Christmas items in it without even having to read the writing on it. Color coding?! What a novel concept!

We took every piece of Christmas décor down from around the house, put it all in the middle of the living room and began to pack. Okay, so I packed it, she directed from her sickbed, the couch, where she has been suffering from a miserable cold for the past week.

At the end we had two large totes and four small boxes of Christmas decor, and one empty shelf in our storage space.

Now I'm kind of looking forward to decorating next year and putting up the new items we purchased for the first time. And...putting them back where they belong.