Cutting the cord

Posted on 23. Aug, 2010 by kchristieh in college, my life, parenting

A metaphor: my daughter exploring alone on a recent hike

I never got the chance to say goodbye to my daughter when I dropped her off at college last week. She didn’t realize that when she went to her sorority information meeting it would be the last time she would see me that day, and was surprised that I’d left campus by the time it was over. Her roommate’s parents and I had remarked that we were impressed by how our daughters had no separation anxiety, which is true, but I know my daughter had planned on at least a quick hug. It was ok; I got to see her twice over the next few days as I brought her bike and a few other items down to campus. Still, no tears on either end. She’s thrilled to be in college, and I’m thrilled for her.

Today’s NY Times reports in Students, Welcome to College; Parents, Go Home that many colleges are encouraging students and parents to make a more formal break. Whether they host a parents-only reception at the end of the day or hold a ceremony with parents on one side and students on the other, colleges feel the need to shoo the parents off school grounds at a certain point. One school even shuts the gates to keep the parents out. It sounded like this was a good idea in certain situations. Some of the parents they interviewed admitted they are having a tough time saying goodbye.

Hopefully these kids realize how lucky they are. If the parents are guilty of anything, it’s a surplus of love. It manifests itself differently in different people, and needs to evolve over time, but at least these kids have someone who cares enough to drive them to campus, help them move in, and pay $54,000 a year to educate them.

And to save them a bedroom for when they come home in four (hopefully not five) years.

Where is Paradise?

Posted on 16. Aug, 2010 by kchristieh in my life, travel

When I was in high school, a friend moved from New Jersey to Bermuda for several years. I asked my father if he’d ever consider moving there, and he said we’d become weak and lazy in such a nice place, and that we needed to live in a cold and serious place like New Jersey. Years later, when he and my stepmother decided to decamp for Florida each winter, I reminded him of his previous remarks. He denies ever saying them. I think he doesn’t want to admit to it.

I didn’t follow my father’s advice. When it came time to choose a college, I chose a California school with fantastic weather and a great engineering program. I stayed in California after I graduated, and moved south to even better weather. This past week I vacationed in Lahaina, Maui, and stayed in a townhouse on the beach. As much as I love So. Cal., this beat it.

But would I ever move here? Half of me would move here in a heartbeat, but the other half would miss my friends and family on the mainland. Technology and vacationing visitors would help, but several friends who’ve lived here have said that after awhile they got “island fever” and missed what they left behind. Of course, what makes this all a dream is that it’s expensive to live here and we wouldn’t have as many business opportunities.

Would living in Paradise make us happier anyway? I’m happy enough, so why mess with it? However, I’d love to wake up and see the ocean waves crashing outside, and to learn to stand up on a surfboard and paddle around and watch the sea turtles, and ride around in a kayak. I think these would enhance my happiness by making me more fit and relaxed.

Maybe some day I’ll test this out.

I was brave, but she was braver

Posted on 16. Jul, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

Last night I not only attended The Moth StorySLAM for the first time, but I was brave enough to tell a story. I stood in front of a roomful of people, whom I couldn’t see because the lights were so bright, and told the story of my wild eToys ride. The theme of the evening was “On A Dime”, and ten people’s names were chosen out of a hat to tell a personal story of five minutes or less to the audience and a panel of judges. The judges liked my story, and I scored well.

There were several amazing stories that deservedly scored higher than mine. I am blessed that these are not my story. One man told of how he almost wound up in prison at Leavenworth, and a woman told of how her mother almost drove her and her siblings off a cliff.

But the most poignant story was the last story, which was told by a very classy, poised woman who is probably a few years older than me. She told of when she was 15 and had a crush on an older boy from another high school, and was thrilled that he was coming to a party at her friend’s house. When he finally arrived, he asked if she wanted to go upstairs to talk. He didn’t have talking in mind, however, and wound up raping her. As he zoomed away in his convertible, she reflected on how her life was forever changed, and how the people at the party had no idea. She was so honest, and admitted that her 15-year-old self thought this was the beginning of true love. Of course, it wasn’t. Fast forward six years, and she was in a bar with a female friend. She saw the guy across the bar, and went up to him and addressed him by name. (Note: throughout the story, she used his name. Of course, I won’t say it here, but I’ll never forget it.) When he responded that he did, SHE PUNCHED HIM. Then she ran away. Of course, that didn’t make it all better, but it helped a little. I hope that telling the story last night helped too. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her how brave she was for telling that story and how inspired I was by her actions, but I didn’t see her afterwards. Everyone in the room seemed so nice, so I’m sure she had support.

I can’t recommend The Moth StorySLAM highly enough. I love their NPR show, and speaking and hearing stories in person was even better. I laughed, I cried, and I thought about what I’d do in different situations. I felt like I walked in these peoples’ shoes, and that makes me a better, more empathetic person. Also, as I mentioned, everyone in the room seemed really nice, and I felt very comfortable there.

Too bad it’s not open to people under 21, since it was held in a bar. I wish I could have brought my 18-year-old daughter.

Don’t box me in with labels

Posted on 14. Jul, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

When a well-meaning friend recently referred to me as a “Mommy Blogger,” I instantly got defensive. Over the past 1,400+ blog posts, I’ve covered a wide variety of topics and made a conscious effort not to use my unsuspecting family as my primary blogging material. In fact, a quick survey of my most recent 20 posts shows that only 1 centered on something I did as a parent, and that one (“Why I Love Baccalaureate“) could have been written by anyone in attendance at that event. As blessed as I am to be a parent, I especially don’t want to be labeled as something that doesn’t totally define me, or that implies something I’m not.

Here are some other labels that people have pinned on me, and why I hope you can see beyond them:

MOM: I’m the proud parent of a 16-year-old and an 18-year-old. They’re great kids, and yes, they call me “Mom.” But I have my own life, with just as many friends on Facebook, and I don’t need to live vicariously through them, spy on them, or pander to them the way the “Mom” label might imply to some people. Ironically, or perhaps predictably, I think that the people that put the “Mom” label on me the most are my children’s peers.

WIFE: I’ve been married 23 years to a great guy. Wow. That’s twice as long as my parents were married to each other. I’m blessed to be in a marriage loaded with mutual love, respect, values, interests, etc. But as much as I may be the one that makes the dinner and drives the kids, I have my own life too. And so does my husband. Being a wife is wonderful, but it’s not all that I am.

DEMOCRAT: Over the past 19 years, I think I’ve only voted for one Republican. As much as I’d like to call myself an Independent, because I do think independently, I think my voting record definitely qualifies me as a Democrat. But I don’t agree with all the positions of the Democratic party, even some that are basic to other people. I think my positions are consistent and logical, but don’t we all?

WHITE: When I was an RA in college, one of the students in my dorm, whose father had been a sharecropper, called me the most “white bread” person she’d ever known. Yes, I am White. The parts of me that don’t see the light of day could blind you with their brightness, and I am shocked at how closely I align with the website “Stuff White People Like.” Yesterday I dragged the kids to Whole Foods to get more Mandarin Pumpkin Marmalade for my morning crêpe, and they said that was incredibly White of me. Given that for the over 400 years that I can trace back my family tree all my ancestors hail from Northern Europeans, this label sticks. But please don’t think that because I’m one race, it doesn’t mean that I don’t love people of all races. I married a Latino man, who has ancestors over the past 150 years that were Native American, Persian, Italian, and Spanish. I don’t care what race the person my children go out with or marry someday is; I care about what’s in that person’s heart, and in their character. And if you really want to get technical, I’m not exactly white. I’m more like the square on the right, which is hex #FFF3ED.

JERSEY GIRL: Yes, I was born in New Jersey. But I chose to leave. See the next label.

CALIFORNIAN: I LOVE California. I love the weather, the diversity of people and their cultures, and the geography. But most of all, I love the energy and enthusiasm of my adopted state, and the freedom and encouragement to venture forth and buck tradition to try new things. But I don’t have blinders on; I know California isn’t perfect. Our public education system is sinking fast at all levels, and we’re far from resolving important issues like immigration, prison overcrowding, and health care. We’ve also taken a big hit economically over the past few years. So while I’m proud and blessed to be a Californian, like my state, I’m complicated and not easily labeled. Ditto for being AMERICAN. I was so lucky to be born here, and am so proud to be a citizen of a country that values freedom so highly. But it doesn’t mean I agree with everything our nation does. Thankfully I have the freedom to be able to say that!

MIDDLE-AGED: I’m 47. Born in 1963, high school class of 1981, college class of 1985. I don’t hide it. Even so, I don’t feel any older than I did 20 years ago. Sure, only my hairdresser knows the true color of my lovely locks, and you won’t see me in a bikini anymore. But I feel like I have just as much energy and zest as I ever have. I embrace the information revolution, and have loved keeping up with all the new tools that allow me to stay efficient and productive in my life and in my career. My age actually benefits me in that I’ve experienced so much more of life that I feel smarter and wiser than ever. So call me middle-aged, but make sure it’s a compliment, not a hindrance. (Oh, how I hope this is all true in 20 years!)

CHRISTIAN: I am Christian. I believe that God sent Jesus to us because he loves us, and that we should follow his teachings and LOVE one another. And that’s the rub: I think that many Christians these days, who spend the bulk of their time bashing people they don’t agree with, shed a bad light on Christianity. I think God loves everyone, no matter what their race, gender, sexual orientation, etc. and that we should too. So I hope that when you label me as a Christian, you think love, not hate.

GEEK: Yes, I have an MS in engineering, and can easily stay up all night refining the code on a website to make sure that each pixel matches up. But “Geek” to some people implies a lack of social skills, and that’s definitely not a problem for me. (See the Facebook reference above.)

Maybe if you combine these labels you’ll get a better picture of who I am, as long as you bear in mind the ways I’ve stated I don’t adhere to their stereotypes. Once people know me, they know that instead of labels, they should use adjectives to describe me. I’d prefer hard-working, caring, flexible, social, eager, curious, and many others. Just be careful not to stereotype me. I’m a unique person, with lots to contribute, just like everyone else.

PS – Despite not wanting to be called a “Mommy Blogger,” I will probably write a few posts about my first child going off to college next month. I may not only be a Mom, but it is a big part of who I am, and we’re going through some big changes in our house.

Looking back at my wedding 23 years ago today

Posted on 30. May, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

On a hot spring morning 23 years ago today, I married a wonderful man, surrounded by the love and support of our amazing friends and family.

Because this was the pre-digital age, our primary records of the day include a VHS tape and a wedding album that’s starting to get sticky and degrade on the outside. My stepfather converted the VHS tape to a DVD, which we plan on watching today. I scanned representative pictures from the photo album, and hope that you enjoy them below.

Here’s a picture of me, my younger sister, and my two stepbrothers. My sister was my Maid of Honor. She’s best remembered that day for fainting from the heat in the un-air conditioned church. My stepbrothers were too young to be ushers, so they were our videographers. They called themselves Chico and Kabul in the video. We’re not sure why. The best line was when they asked my husband if he had any words for the groom, and he said, “I am the groom.” Classic, and probably better than any pro could have done.

Mark, Craig, Me, Ann

My husband grew up in Kansas City and Wichita, so the only relatives he had in attendance were those in his immediate family. I was afraid that my outgoing family might put them off, but I think they enjoyed themselves.

Donna, Boniface, Don, Bia, Donna

My parents got divorced when I was in junior high and re-married when I was in high school, so I get the love of four parents. Here’s a picture of us with my father and stepmother:

John, Me, Don, Joyce

And here’s one with my mother and stepfather. My stepfather’s name is also Don, so my mother and I refer to the Dons as “my Don” and “your Don.” My mother was 45 at the time.

Don D., Me, My Don, Gerri

Here we are at the altar of The First Presbyterian Church at Tower Hill in Red Bank, NJ. It’s the church I grew up in. Soon after we were married, I believe the pastor quit to become a travel agent.

Our wedding party consisted of the siblings old enough to be in a wedding party and friends from school. I’m sorry for the pink dresses, and laughed when I’m sure that I saw one of them at Aardvark’s second-hand store in Pasadena. But, they were standard for 1987.

After the wedding ceremony, the photographer took pictures of Don and I at the little park by the Navesink River. I’ll never ever have hair that short again. Two years later, my sister used the same wedding dress, minus the sleeves. Before my mother and stepfather moved to California, my mom had a friend cut up the dress and use the fabric to make christening gowns and two little wedding purses. I’m 100% sure my daughter will be thrilled that she’ll have a small purse for her wedding instead of a used 80′s gown. I still have the veil. Maybe she’ll use that?

Our reception was awesome. I had nearly nothing to do with the planning, thanks to the generous cooperation of my parents and stepparents. The band was incredible, and we had fun imitating the PeeWee Herman “Tequila” dance. Don and I saw “PeeWee’s Great Adventure” on our first date. I’m not sure what dance we were doing below, but we were having lots of fun.

I’ve been blessed with wonderful grandparents and stepgrandparents. Here are my father’s parents. You can see THEIR wedding video here.

Here are my step-grandparents. They were known as Grandma & Grandpa D.

Here’s a picture of my mom’s family. It’s rare to get them all in one picture like this, and I’m not sure it’s happened since.

Too bad the photographer didn’t get a picture of us driving off in my sister’s beaten-up old Subaru. I had to squish my dress into it before the door closed. It was the one detail we’d overlooked on our perfect day, but it made for a great story for years later.

Happy Anniversary to Us!!!

This is what 47 looks like…

Posted on 28. May, 2010 by kchristieh in health, my life

For me, 47 is…when I buy a pill box to help me remember to take my vitamins. And then forget anyway.

Picture taken on Friday. Note the pill in the Thursday slot. The problem is I’m supposed to have them with meals, not any time.

At least they’re vitamins, and nothing more serious.

Stuck on the 2010 Census race question

Posted on 17. Mar, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

Filling out the 2010 Census was as easy as promised until I got to Question 9: What is Person 1′s race? Mark one or more boxes.

Person #1, aka my husband, is Mexican-American, so Question 8: Is Person 1 of Hispanic, Latino or Spanish origin? was easy. From what we know of his heritage, he’s part-Spanish, part-Italian, part-Persian and like so many Mexicans, part-Native American. In fact, when he swabbed the inside of his cheek a few years ago and sent the cells off to a company that National Geographic worked with to perform a DNA test, it came back saying that his ancestors crossed the Bering Strait and traveled to South America.

Unfortunately, the choices for Question 9 discouraged us from picking American Indian, since it asks the name of the enrolled or principal tribe. Who knows how many eons ago his ancestors were part of an American Indian tribe? They were probably Aztecs or Mayans more recently, but that wasn’t a choice.

If he’d been Chinese, it would have been much easier. Question 9 separates out Asian Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean and Vietnamese as different races. I consider them all to be Asian, though I appreciate that they have distinct cultures. On the other hand, if they’re looking to track distinct cultures, why don’t they track Arabs? I’m not the first to notice that omission.

I heard on the radio the other day that it wasn’t until Medieval times that people even really cared about race. (Although I’d bet some slaves would argue with that.) It’s sad that humans are hung up on the color of one’s skin. Perhaps the more that people get to know people of different races and intermarry, they’ll not only better appreciate what’s inside a person and not what’s on the outside, but it’ll be harder and harder to determine what race someone is. (Click here to see The Onion’s take on this.) Since it’s St. Patrick’s Day, maybe it would be easier if we were all Irish. Just kidding – it would be easy for me, but others might object.

By the way, he told me to mark White on the form. I will, but it only tells part of his story. At least Question 8 tells another part.

It’s a Bigger and Better weekend in La Cañada

Posted on 12. Mar, 2010 by kchristieh in my life

Tonight several dozen junior high students descended upon La Canada for a “Bigger or Better” scavenger hunt. Each of four groups started out at La Canada Presbyterian Church with a paper clip and instructions to ask residents of different streets if they’d trade what the kids had for something “bigger or better.” Our group consisted of about a dozen confident, polite 7th and 8th grade girls who enthusiastically explained to complete strangers what they were doing. It was a pleasure to see how their infectious enthusiasm inspired people to dig into their closets and garages for increasingly more impressive items. Along the way we obtained a pack of gum, a teapot, two basketballs, a garbage can and two boxes. We wound up with a very big box. Other groups beat us out, however, with their working Sony television, uncharged ATV and vintage bicycle.

All items collected will be donated to an upcoming Girl Scout garage sale which is raising money for Haitian earthquake victims.

We all had a great time. What a win-win-win activity!

Here are the final items each group brought back:

Speaking of Bigger and Better…stay tuned for more about the giant Rice Krispie treat being constructed in La Canada this weekend. Yummy!!

What can/can’t you live without?

Posted on 26. Jan, 2010 by kchristieh in inspirational people, my life

In 1985, I was perfectly happy living in an 8′ x 12′ concrete-walled dorm room. I was thrilled to have a single in a dorm full of wonderful people. I didn’t care that the bathroom was down the hall, or that I didn’t own a car. I had a decent bike, a comfortable bed, adequate food, and was learning and having fun with terrific people.

Twenty-five years later, I enjoy living with my family in a nice house in a safe town with wonderful schools. I appreciate all the comforts life has brought me, but I also recognize how my material comforts have also brought an added level of stress, as my husband and I need to work hard to make mortgage payments, save for college for the kids, and meet expenses. I often tell my husband that I’d be happy living in a much smaller house, as long as I have my computer, a fast internet connection, and a secure yard for our dog. Clearly, the list would be longer if I thought about it…I’d also want great schools, a safe community, my printer, my purse, our couch, my gloves, my boots, my fleece jacket, my special pajamas, my pillows and a few more items and services. But as I sit here and scan the interior horizon, there truly aren’t very many items I’d consider to be that important to me.

In his recent column, “What Could You Live Without?“, Nicholas Kristof tells of an Atlanta family whose daughter challenged them to sell their house and buy a smaller one, and donate the net proceeds to charity. Even as it inspired some people, it evoked the wrath of others who complained that they shouldn’t donate to people overseas when there are Americans in need. I’m in the former category, and am impressed that a modern American family that has so much could sacrifice it and make a difference in the world.

The unexpected dividend in this case was that the family found that downsizing brought them closer together:

Mr. Salwen and his wife, Joan, had always assumed that their kids would be better off in a bigger house. But after they downsized, there was much less space to retreat to, so the family members spent more time around each other. A smaller house unexpectedly turned out to be a more family-friendly house.

“We essentially traded stuff for togetherness and connectedness,” Mr. Salwen told me, adding, “I can’t figure out why everybody wouldn’t want that deal.”

I look forward to reading the book they wrote about their experiences, The Power of Half. I don’t think my family wants to downsize, but if they did, I’d be all for it. I wouldn’t mind slowing down the treadmill and enjoying life and my relationships more. In the meantime, if I ever find the time, I am going to get rid of a lot of extra stuff we have around here. The Sport Chalet shoes were just a start…

My year in Facebook statuses

Posted on 31. Dec, 2009 by kchristieh in my life, social networking

I feel like I have two diaries: my blog, and my Facebook statuses. Here’s a graphic created by the Facebook application “My Year in Status on Facebook” that summarizes the past year by showing representative Facebook statuses. It initially included a random set of status updates, but I chose the option where I could select which statuses to display. Here’s the result:

While I was selecting which status updates to include, I copied the list and pasted it into Excel. It’s a great summary of the past year.

Everyone should have an Uncle Bob

Posted on 15. Dec, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

I used to joke with friends that it seemed that everyone has an Uncle Bob. If they don’t, then they’re missing something special.

My Uncle Bob, my father’s only sibling, died just a few hours ago. He was young – just 71 – but he lived a very full life. We’re all going to miss him terribly, and I can’t imagine seeing my aunt and cousins without him being there.

(The picture to the right features my father, my mother, Aunt Roe & Uncle Bob.)

Here are some of my favorite memories of Uncle Bob:

• When I was little, my father and Uncle Bob would get together each fall to make Bread & Butter Pickles. I love pickles, but I never liked these. Perhaps it was because they’d make them in a…garbage can. (Does that sound White Trash or what??!?) Don’t worry – they’d buy a new can every year. But I could never reconcile the pickles’ origins with their final purpose.
• No one embraced the advent of email more than Uncle Bob. There wasn’t a joke, picture, or soppy story he wouldn’t forward. I’d roll my eyes at many of them, but every once in awhile there’d be a gem. But I’d always try to click on them, just in case it was an email he wrote about what he or his family was up to.
• He and my Aunt Roe raised the best kids ever. Truly. My cousins are awesome. My sister and I spent a lot of time with the oldest two when we were younger, since they lived a few towns away and were nearly the same age we were. I wish my cousins lived near me, since I’m sure we’d be great friends, too.
• I’ve never seen a more productive vegetable garden than Uncle Bob’s. I picture it surrounded and covered by wire fencing, to keep the deer, rabbits, and other critters out.
• I never realized until this evening how much it meant to my husband that Uncle Bob and the rest of that side of my family were so accepting of him. He wasn’t sure they’d open their hearts to a Hispanic guy from the Midwest, although I never had a doubt.
• I traveled the world vicariously via Uncle Bob’s journal over the past few years. He would email me long stories of everything from the personalities on the cruise ship to the food he ate onshore. I’m glad he didn’t wait until he was older to do what he really wanted to.

I’m sure that over the next few days and months I’ll think of more great memories of Uncle Bob. I miss him, and my heart goes out to my aunt and my cousins and their families.

—————————————————————–

It’s no surprise that I found a recipe for Bread & Butter Pickles online in a book called “White Trash Cooking” by Ernest Matthew Mickler. Maybe I’ll make some in Uncle Bob’s honor, minus the garbage can.

Christmas caroling at any age

Posted on 10. Dec, 2009 by kchristieh in music, my life, religion

This past weekend I sang Christmas carols at a local nursing home with junior high kids and fellow youth group leaders from our church. I vividly remember doing this with my high school youth group, and I wanted to do what I love and hopefully cheer people up at the same time.

I think they enjoyed our visit; they smiled and thanked us at the end. It was a lot like how I remember it was in high school, but with one exception: it was all I could do not to cry. At least I knew the songs by heart, so when my eyes welled-up it didn’t matter that I couldn’t see the page as easily. I live a life that’s so sheltered from the difficulty and isolation that can accompany aging, and it was overwhelming to see that all of the residents were in wheelchairs, and that some clutched dolls and stuffed animals but still looked so alone.

At first I thought it was because I’m 30 years older than I was in high school. I’m closer to most of these people in age than I am to the junior high kids who sang with us.

But this evening, one of the junior high school girls told me that she’d had a hard time not crying too. And a high school girl told me that she’s surprised at how emotional she gets at times.

So I won’t over-analyze my reaction. I’m grateful for the blessings that allow me not to have to visit or live in a nursing home, and for the people who opened up their lives to us this weekend and allowed us to sing. I don’t know what the next 30 (or 60, or whatever) years hold, but I hope I always appreciate a good Christmas carol.

Next time we’ve got to bring jingle bells…

The dolls to the right remind me of my sister. Not only does she love little dolls like these, but her singing voice is identical to mine. We’re the alto sisters who grew up in NJ but moved to CA. Too bad our voices aren’t super-amazing, because maybe we could take our act on the road. In the meantime, I can’t wait for her to visit so we can sing next to each other on Christmas Eve.  :)

Stuff White People (apparently) Like

Posted on 02. Dec, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

For the second day in a row, I tried opening the wrong car in a parking lot. I’m not going senile; it’s just that my town is full of blue Priuses just like mine. I knew I was at the wrong car the first time when I saw that it had an Apple computer sticker. Although I have an iMac, I didn’t put the sticker on my car. The second car had a round, patterned sticker on the car. It matched the necklace I was wearing. So you can see how I’d be confused.

I like to think of myself as unique, and in some ways I think I am. I don’t know any other women in my town who have engineering degrees and run their own website design businesses. But that’s where my uniqueness apparently starts and ends. My mixed-race kids love reading the list of “Stuff White People Like” and laughing when almost all of it applies to me. They’re right: I like 106 of the 129 items on the list. There are 16 I don’t like, and 7 I’m not familiar enough with to form an opinion.

I’m not going to detail which things I like and don’t like. You’ll have to figure that out by reading my blog. But let’s just say that in the first paragraph of this post, without even knowing it at the time, I mentioned my Prius (#60), bumper stickers (#100) and Apple products (#40).

Maybe the writers of the list have hidden cameras in my house.

3rd Best Thanksgiving Moment

Posted on 27. Nov, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

Our third best Thanksgiving moment came when my nephew decided he wanted ramen instead of the more traditional turkey dinner. He also chose an Otter Pop instead of pumpkin pie.

The top two moments were when my brother-in-law said a beautiful grace before the meal began and when we all went around the table and said what we’re thankful for. It’s pretty poignant when people are happy to be alive. We were very grateful to be together.

Best.Beat Cal.Prank. Ever.

Posted on 21. Nov, 2009 by kchristieh in my life, sports

I blogged about this three years ago, but I thought I’d show it again: a “Beat Cal” banner hung by Stanford in Tours students from the Arc de Triomphe in Paris in the Fall of 1983. Read more about it here.

I wasn’t one of the brave souls who hung the banner: I merely took the picture. Still, it was very exciting. And surprisingly, no one got arrested.

My new friend, Goldie

Posted on 12. Nov, 2009 by kchristieh in animals, my life

If you saw a stray dog with a collar walking up the street, what would you do?

Last week I was meeting with some clients when the doorbell rang. A man was standing at my door with my little dog in his arms. Unbeknownst to me, Ricky (pictured to the right) had dug under the fence and run down the street and into this man’s yard. Thankfully, Ricky’s very friendly and non-threatening, so the man felt comfortable picking him up. Ricky has no idea how dangerous the traffic on our street is, so I’m very grateful to the man for bringing him home.

I had the opportunity to pay the favor forward a few days ago. I was in a different part of town when I saw a medium-sized dog trotting up the street. I parked the car and called the dog over. I figured that if it came to me on its own, it was probably a friendly dog. I was right: she came over and willingly hopped into my car. (see the pictures to the right) When I checked her collar, I found out her name was Goldie and that she lived two blocks away, so I drove her home. No one was there, so I called the number on her tag. The man who answered said that I could find a tether in the backyard, so I retrieved it and used it as a leash to guide her home.

It only took a few extra minutes to help Goldie out, but I still feel good about helping her and her owner. I hope that the next time my dog gets out, someone does the same.

Doesn’t she look happy? I think she was hoping we’d go on more of an adventure.

I love how she has one ear up and one ear down.

What I learned when my son broke his leg

Posted on 06. Nov, 2009 by kchristieh in health, life lessons, my life, parenting, social networking, sports

It’s been tough to keep up with my goal of daily blog posting lately. Clients, volunteer positions, and a child applying to college have taken a higher priority. As if that wasn’t enough, this past Friday night my son fractured his tibia and dislocated his kneecap in a high school football game. He had surgery the next day, and we spent two nights in the hospital. Since then, I’ve been his personal nurse, helping him move his whole-leg cast when he gets up or down from a sitting or sleeping position, refilling his water bottle, and making him caprese sandwiches.

Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned this week:

• Every hospital patient needs an advocate. My son entered the emergency room in utter pain, and after 10 minutes of waiting we were told it would be another 20 minutes before a triage nurse would see him. It was only when I whipped out my purse supply of Tylenol and with tears in my eyes asked how much to give him that they finally talked to him. Likewise, after his surgery, the nurses who attended to him were very kind, but needed reminding that 40 minutes before they’d promised more pain medication or help with something important. I’m glad I was there for him.
• Keep your situation in perspective. I felt and feel awful for my son, but his situation could be far worse. I said lots of prayers for people in the hospital that were in worse shape than my son.
• You can’t wash your hands too much. I treated every surface in that hospital as if it was coated with the plague. Time will tell if I was successful in avoiding illness, but I’m glad I was careful.
• Hospital food can be good. The food at our hospital cafeteria was excellent and cheap. I should eat lunch there with friends. Except for my previous point about hospital germs.
• When you need to go rescue your child who’s broken a bone, if possible, take an extra two minutes and bring: magazines, water bottles, a phone charger, a jacket, and socks. You’ll be so glad you did when you’re at the hospital overnight or for hours on end. (This was my son’s 4th bone break, so I learned this awhile ago.)
• Guard your time at the hospital and afterwards. It was good that everyone didn’t visit the hospital, since each visit was both exhilarating and tiring, and at one point I told some people that instead of talking on the phone and bothering my son, that it would be better to text. I also made sure to turn both our phones off at night.
• You never know when your child will play his last game. I didn’t attend Friday night’s game; my daughter had come home sick that afternoon, so I chose to stay home with her. My husband and I actually looked at each other and said, “There’s no way he’ll get hurt, right? He’s the kicker.” Hahaha. In retrospect, it’s just as well I wasn’t there, as it would have been torture to watch him lie on the field for so long with no power to do anything. But after 12 years of organized sports, this may wind up being the last game he plays in until he plays intramurals in college.
• Aerobeds are amazing. I’m sleeping on one next to my son’s bed in case he needs to get up in the middle of the night or needs more pain medication. I’m sleeping like a log on that thing. Note: this is just true for the actual Aerobed brand. I haven’t been so happy with other air mattresses.
• I can mention this one since my son won’t read this: if your child is asleep next to you and it’s dark and you’re bored, copy cell phone numbers of their closest friends onto your cell phone. You never know when you’ll need them.
• Don’t be afraid to ask for help. When I posted on Facebook that I was looking for a bed tray my son could use to eat his meals and do homework, two showed up on my doorstep the next morning. Ditto for needing some concrete blocks to keep the dog in. One of my Facebook friends was going to the hardware store anyway, so she saved me a trip that would take me away from my son. And the food people have brought us has saved many nights of frozen pizza. And my son appreciates the cards and gifts people have brought.
• I live in a great community. People care, and back it up with action. I’m very, very, very fortunate to live here and have such wonderful friends.  :)

My (mis)Fortune

Posted on 25. Oct, 2009 by kchristieh in food, my life, things that bug me

I thought all fortunes at Panda Express were positive. Apparently not. Here’s what I got this evening.

I usually have good judgment. Maybe I should have bad judgment? Either way, it was very disconcerting…

Take me back to the Mac shack

Posted on 29. Sep, 2009 by kchristieh in my life, technical, things that bug me, tv, work

When my husband and I first met, we were poor graduate students. We were happy eating ramen (me) and Kraft Mac & Cheese (him), as long as we were together. (awww!) I’ve always considered it a blessing that we fell in love when we had so few material possessions, as our expectations of the relationship weren’t based on finances.

But over the years, there’s one thing I’ve come to depend upon: my internet connection. It’s impossible to be a website designer or serial volunteer without a fast, reliable connection. I’ve told my husband many times that I’d be fine living in a much smaller abode as long as I have my computer and a good internet connection. (and my dog, and my pillows)

I may have to test that promise. Although I live in a thoroughly modern Los Angeles suburb, I have nearly given up on having a decent internet connection. My internet provider, Charter Communications, was fine for many years, but since this summer my internet connection has become increasingly unreliable. I’ve had countless technicians come out to fix it, but thus far they’ve only made things worse. Last Wednesday the same technician came to our house twice: after the first time the connection went down four times within the next hour, and after the second time our television signal was lost, even though we hadn’t previously had a problem with our signal. Every day since then, Charter has told me they’d have a technician here, and every day has come and gone without a technician servicing us. Tomorrow marks a week since we lost our signal, and I’m not holding my breath that it’ll be fixed by then.

I gave up last night, and decided to switch to AT&T. Unfortunately, AT&T doesn’t provide high speed internet service to our area, so the speed they promise, 768 KBps, isn’t much faster than a dial-up modem. I want reliability, but I don’t want the speeds I gave up in the last millennium.

I’m writing an email to Charter Vice President / General Manager Fred Lutz. (FredGM@chartercom.com) He makes a big deal out of how important customer service is to Charter. I agree: it should be important. I just wish it were. Hopefully this will be resolved soon. If not, maybe I’ll even call him. (626) 813-8670. Or even worse, I’ll have my attorney husband call him. He misses his football much more than I do.

Many thanks to Amy B. for paying attention to Mr. Lutz’s email address and phone number when he recently appeared on our local cable news program.  :)

15 Life Lessons I Learned From My Dog

Posted on 16. Sep, 2009 by kchristieh in animals, my life

When my sweet dog Genevieve died just over a year ago, I cried for days. Ever since we’d adopted her over 11 years before, she’d been my constant companion. She was rarely more than five feet from my side, and she was my office mate who sat on the couch as I did all the work. She lived a good, long life – perhaps 16.5 years – but in the end an enlarged heart did her in. It was only fitting, because she captured everyone’s heart.

We honored Genevieve and the place she had in our hearts by adopting another dog within eight days. As I look back on it, I can’t believe we adopted another dog so quickly, but Genevieve left a big hole, and I wanted to try to fill it quickly. I went to five local animal shelters, and at each one I asked them to show me their friendliest small dog. Some of the dogs they showed me didn’t show much interest in being social, and at other shelters the workers and volunteers had so many animals on hand that they didn’t know enough about them to help me. Finally, at the San Gabriel Valley Humane Society, several workers independently pointed to an adorable little guy whom I’d passed by the first time I saw him. They were right: he’s a love sponge, and a year ago today we brought him home with us. We named him Ricky, and he’s brought great joy to our family and to all who have met him. He’ll never replace Genevieve, but he honors her by filling in his own way the role that she played in our family.

Here’s what Ricky’s taught me in the last year:

1. Life goes on. I miss Genevieve dearly, but Ricky has helped me to focus on the present, not on the past.
2. Don’t judge someone by their looks. I thought I’d wind up adopting another terrier, but I’m very happy we brought Ricky home instead. I don’t know what breeds are mixed in him, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is what’s on the inside.
3. If you show love, you’ll get love. I’ve never known a dog who licked as much as Ricky does. It makes you want to pet him all the time.
4. If you ask for love, you’ll get love. Ricky loves to lie on his back, look at us with pathetic eyes, and shake his legs until he gets a belly rub. He’s irresistible.
5. Be persistent. The more you chew on that toy, the more likely you’ll be to break it down. Also, see #4.
6. Everyone is a potential friend. Keep trying.
7. Lead a balanced life. There’s a time for belly rubs, a time for chasing squirrels, and a time for sleeping in the sun. All are important.
8. Life is a journey: enjoy the ride. Ricky loves to go for car rides, and gets upset when I don’t bring him along.
9. Express yourself. If you’re bugged by the fact that someone dares to walk on the sidewalk across the street, bark and let them know it.
10. Be true to yourself. Just because the neighbor dogs like to swim doesn’t mean you have to.
11. Appreciate the blessings of life. Anything beats being in a cage at the Humane Society for a month and a half.
12. Live each moment to the fullest. One of my greatest joys is seeing the extra-high leap that Ricky loves to take when he jumps up the stairs after playing in the backyard.
13. Being small has its advantages. If he weren’t so small, Ricky wouldn’t fit on my lap or under the bed.
14. You don’t need to spend a lot of money to have fun. Even an old sock can provide great enjoyment.
15. Seize the opportunity when it’s available. As soon as the bedroom door opens, rush in to grab any socks that may be on the floor. (see #14)

Ricky is like a 9-year-old boy. He’s bright, sweet, energetic and playful all at once. He makes life exciting and rewarding, and we’re blessed to have him in our lives.

I wish Genevieve could meet him.

Kathy & Don’s Big Adventure

Posted on 06. Sep, 2009 by kchristieh in movies, my life

About 24 years ago today, my husband and I went on our first date, to the movie “Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure.”

I’ve found that most people either love or hate this movie. There aren’t many who are neutral on the subject. I love it, though in moderate doses.

If you’re also a fan, check out this YouTube video of a combo movie/live action Pee Wee Herman tribute:

Of course, we played “Tequila” at our wedding. I didn’t have platform shoes, but I danced pretty well anyway.

My life story as Venn diagrams

Posted on 15. Aug, 2009 by kchristieh in my life

My world has expanded and become more and more complicated over the years. The best way to show this is through Venn diagrams.

In 1965, my simple world consisted of my family of four, my friends and my relatives. This was just right for a two-year-old.

When I was in high school in 1980, my world mostly consisted of church group and school. My parents had divorced and remarried, so my family was bigger.

By 1990, I was married and working. I wasn’t in contact with many high school friends, and I was becoming more active in my church and community.

In 1995 I was a stay-at-home mom with a nascent desktop publishing business. I was thrilled that my sister lived nearby.

These days, I overlay email and Facebook onto my diagram. They largely define how much contact I have with people. I’m back in touch with many former co-workers and school friends, mostly because of Facebook. However, there are still a few holdouts in my extended family and community who aren’t on Facebook yet. Hopefully they’ll come on board soon, because it would make it much easier to maintain a closer relationship with them.

The perils and possibilities of the empty nest

Posted on 06. Jul, 2009 by kchristieh in animals, my life, parenting

Thank goodness my dog bolted to the yard yesterday morning, because he passed right over a baby bird that hadn’t survived long enough to even grow feathers. Later in the day, my husband said he found a dead baby bird, too. It was a bad day for birds to leave the nest.

But it was a good day for teenagers to leave the nest. Yesterday my husband and I both put “…have an empty nest” as our Facebook status without knowing the other had. Our daughter left for a month of living with a family and studying Spanish in Central America, and we dropped off our son at a techie camp at a local university. Early reports indicate that both are growing, thriving, and enjoying spreading their wings.

Parenting is a long, slow road, but every once in awhile you need to take a leap up to the next plateau. I feel like we did that this weekend, and so far so good…

Am I a Disney Princess?

Posted on 28. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in movies, my life

After watching Enchanted again last night, I came to the realization that perhaps I am a Disney Princess. The evidence is overwhelming:

1. I have a handsome prince.
2. I’m allergic to apples.
3. When I sing the happy princess song animals come to me.

The last one was the clincher. Before I went to bed, I belted out my best falsetto and a spider crawled out from the floorboard and my dog emerged from under the bed.

Is it good to be a Princess? In “Stranded in Neverland,” Christianity Today writer Skye Jethani argues that the Disney Princess franchise appeals to our most base consumer instincts. I think that’s true, and I confess that I am susceptible to that sometimes.

However, Enchanted reminds us that it’s all about love, especially true love. And that’s and ideal that everyone should strive for.

Should I impose my parents’ rules on my children?

Posted on 27. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in my life, parenting

When my sister and I were in late elementary school, my parents typed up a list of rules and posted it on the refrigerator. Here they are:

My parents were stricter than most, but we usually didn’t mind since we were very obedient. My mom is visiting me this weekend, and she remarked this afternoon that she realizes how lucky she was to have such easy kids.

Here are a few of my favorite rules:

• Get to go to bed 7.5 minutes later each birthday.
• No singing at the table.
• Don’t touch the dog until you’re done setting the table.
• We alternated months for keeping the backyard clean.
• Bathe whenever dirty or 2x a week.

I’ve actually got a list of rules for my kids, but I won’t embarrass them by posting them here. I’ve found that it’s easier to get kids to follow rules or get housework done if it’s written down and you don’t have to bug them.

Unless, of course, the rules get lost. I need to print out our rules again so I can have a less stressful summer!

When it’s best to H.A.L.T.

Posted on 26. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in my life, parenting

When I was a manufacturing systems consultant, I overdosed on acronyms. From JIT to MRP, I often suspected they were used to impress the clients. As a result, these days I’m hesitant to use acronyms.

Here’s one that impressed me enough that I told my kids about it: H.A.L.T. It stands for

• Hungry
• Angry
• Lonely
• Tired

It’s what stops you from having healthy interactions with other people. If you’re any of those things, you should take a step back and try to solve the deficiency before you try to communicate with others. If you don’t, you may regret what you say or do. I learned it at Mark Hastings‘ talk at Growing Families at La Canada Presbyterian Church this past Sunday.

I’ve found this to be true with myself and with others I care about. I’m almost never angry or lonely, but I don’t function well if I’m hungry or tired. I’m trying to teach my kids to recognize these signs before they leave for college. The tough part is realizing that you’re having a problem when you’re in the midst of it.

I’m sure I’ll remember this acronym. Hopefully it’ll help me apply it. It’s usually pretty easy to fix being hungry (lucky American that I am) but sleep is sometimes a challenge.

The making of an Eagle Scout

Posted on 15. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in inspirational people, my life, parenting

I was honored this evening to serve on the review panel for a local boy who was trying to get his Eagle Scout award. He had clearly worked quite hard for this, and taken the Boy Scout lessons to heart. He had glowing letters of recommendation praising his leadership abilities, enthusiasm, and diligence, and he and his parents were very articulate in explaining how much he’d learned and how much this meant to him. It was one of the most pleasurable committees I’ll probably ever serve on: it took about 1 millisecond for us to come to the unanimous conclusion that this boy clearly deserved to become an Eagle Scout.

I wish that my son had continued on in scouting past elementary school, but alas, club soccer won out. It’s not as if we have a strong family history of scouting: my husband didn’t continue on in scouting, and my father chose to go the DeMolay path instead of complete the few things he needed to do to become an Eagle Scout. I was actually a Boy Scout Computer Explorer Scout, and enjoyed playing on the computers at Bell Labs in high school, but we never had uniforms or oaths. Neither my daughter nor I continued with Girl Scouts past elementary school.

What is it that makes a kid stick with scouting? From what I heard tonight, and what my own family’s experience is, I’d say it depends upon:

• The quality of the leader
• Whether the child enjoys being with the other troop members
• Family tradition
• Competing demands
• Love of scouting

My father regrets not becoming an Eagle Scout. He says that when you’re an adult, there are very few accomplishments you can proudly note that you achieved in high school. One of them is becoming an Eagle Scout.

Even though he wasn’t an Eagle Scout, my dad’s a great guy anyway, as are the other guys in my life.

Chasing Chihuahuas

Posted on 10. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in animals, my life

This evening my husband called us into the next room to show us a pack of dogs gathered outside the window. Two were Chihuahuas, and the other was a larger dog. We live on a busy street, so we ran outside to make sure the dogs didn’t get hurt.

Sure enough, I wound up having to stop traffic to save the life of a Chihuahua who decided to sit in the middle of the road. Eventually, the dogs all ran to a nearby backyard, and slipped through an open gate. I closed the gate, and crossed my fingers that this was their home. No one answered the door, and another neighbor swore under her breath that she didn’t care what happened to the #^$%%! dogs.

None of the dogs were wearing collars. This is inexcusable. Dogs can’t speak, so they need collars with tags to let people know who they belong to.

Then again, maybe the humans don’t care what happens to the dogs. I think that’s how our dog wound up at the Humane Society before we adopted him. They said he was wandering around the streets with no identification.

Their loss is our gain.

I LOVE the picture on the right from Daisy the Dog. I think our dog is mostly Basenji, but I think he has a lot of Chihuahua in him too. Today he came running back inside with a baby bird. I’ve never had a dog do that. Then again, they do call Basenjis the Cat of Dogs…

See if you know what to do in an earthquake

Posted on 04. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in local news, my life

Click on the image to the right for a cool interactive earthquake safety lesson.

I admit that I learned a thing or two.

I felt my first earthquake when I was a freshman in college. Even though it was small, my father used it as a good excuse to call and check in. Much as I love to speak to him, I’ve since trained him not to be concerned unless it’s a 5.0 or above.

I’ve been at malls with my kids during the last three small earthquakes. Once we had just had meatballs at IKEA, and the other two times we were watching movies.

Maybe I should stay away from malls, or at least warn you if I go to one.

PTSA President 3.0: I have the gavel

Posted on 01. Jun, 2009 by kchristieh in education, local news, my life

Today I achieved the Triple Crown of PTA: I was installed as President of our high school’s PTSA. I’ve already been an elementary school PTA president and a junior high school PTA president, so I’m optimistic that those have prepared me well for this job. Unlike parenting, which gets more difficult as the kids get older, PTA President gets easier. At the elementary school I had 90 (!) positions under me, with numerous fundraisers, room representatives, docents and programs. When you added a dash of confusion over PTA bylaws, it got stressful at times. At the high school, we have only a few straightforward fundraisers, no room reps (our kids would kill us!), one program (Red Ribbon Week – any ideas?) and no docents. I’ve got a GREAT group of people on my Executive Board, and all have years of experience. I’m following in the steps of an amazing woman, and she’s done a wonderful job of paving the way.

We’re looking forward to another great year!