Pura Vida!

Just returned from 10 days in Costa Rica with some of the greatest kids from Silver Creek High School.   As part of my job as the Program Coordinator for the Silver Creek Leadership Academy, we are working to give students the opportunity to travel internationally to understand other cultures, find commonalities, and become better world citizens. So, I  (being the kind, giving, and thoughtful person that I am) took time out of my life to donate to the cause.  (I know, dirty job.....but someone has to do it!)  

Manuel Antonio National Park

La Fortuna Waterfall 

The Costa Ricans have a saying.  "Pura Vida!"  Which, directly translated means "Pure life."  While it is easy to enjoy the pure life while sitting on a beach, looking at a volcano, enjoying the beauty of a waterfall, I found a deeper meaning to the thought of "Pure Life" while there.  

The group at Poas Volcano- and Jurassic Park size leaves

 Living a "pure life" is living a life that is worth living. 
A life that has purpose, direction and meaning.  Living a pure life is one where our values are not fleeting, and we are not swayed back and forth by popular opinion.  Living a pure life is knowing who you are- standing for it even when it is uncomfortable. 

Living a pure life

is the essence of leadership

 

Sunset at Jaco Beach 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another view of the sunset at Jaco Beach

 How often do we pause to look at life with "Pura Vida" eyes?

How often do I reflect on the beauty of this amazing earth and breathe in the smells, listen to the sounds and just stop my mind for a few minutes and be grateful for all I have? 

Living life the Pura Vida way would allow me to do that. 


So while I was in Costa Rica, I kayaked, zip-lined, river rafted,  rode horses thru amazing countryside, watched kids dance their native dances, listened to birds, looked at flowers, swam in the ocean and loved every second of it.  But the best part was sometimes sitting quietly and thinking nothing. I loved watching the students soaking in every experience and knowing it was making an impact on their life and who they would become.

Getting ready for river rafting with the group (minus Lisa)

How amazing would the world be if we all added a little "Pura Vida" to it?  What difference could you make if every morning you woke up determined to live a pure life?  What would you become?  For me- Pura Vida changed me forever.  I am going to work a little harder to live life a little "pure-er"  and make a difference.....one random woman at a time... 

TJ signs on the dotted line....

Me, TJ and Coach Doty from Central Wyoming College

 Sometimes as a mother you worry about your kids.  Will they eat enough vegetables, drink enough milk, not ride their bike into the street,  and graduate high school.

We also  worry about bigger things like: will they be a decent human being? Will they give more than they take and will they get the big picture, and know who they are, why they are here and where they are going?

Each child of ours is not really ours.  They are just on loan from our Father in Heaven.  He would really like it if we don't screw them up too much.  He would like them to come back home to him when this life is all said and done.  So we as parents do all the things we can to give them experiences here in this life that will help them make decisions to get to the next life and be where they  want to be.

I am rambling, I guess we all get to do that when a kid graduates from high school. It's a changing time, and a time for reflection.  

TJ is headed to Central Wyoming College to play basketball.  I assume he will also attend classes in-between  gym time.  I am proud of this kid.  When he tore his ACL many thought his playing days were over.  He never quit.  He worked hard, helped coach the team he could not play with and gave all he had in a different role.  It's all anyone can ask.  They have no idea what they are getting at CWC.  They are so lucky. 

When the basketball banquet rolled around at SCHS they made an announcement that the award formally known as the Chris Johnson award was now called the TJ Adams award.  For the player that goes above and beyond for his teammates.  I don't know about you, but I don't have an award named after me.  I probably never will.  Way to go, TJ.

TJ really has made a difference- at home, at Silver Creek High School, and in the lives of so many.  And that is the best we can do, make a difference- one random kid at a time!!

TJ signing his life away

The Siblings

The whole family

Thanks Coach!

Tomorrow my high school track coach is being honored at the Boulder Valley Invitational track meet as the honorary coach of the year.  Mrs. C. from Boulder High School, this is long overdue!  Mrs. C was assisted by her husband, Ron.  Our Track team was a combination of real athletes, average athletes, and wannabee athletes.  I am sure you can not guess which pile I am from.  For some kids, track was a fun thing to do after school and a fun thing to do on a Saturday to hang out with friends and look at the guys in short shorts.  For me, Track was a lifeline.  To me, Mr. and Mrs. C were lifesavers. 

I "ran" track my junior and senior year at Boulder High School.  My junior year I was arm-wrestled into coming out for track by a good friend.  I loved the camaraderie and  the Carlson's were awesome, hip and fun.  Little did I know that summer would change my life. 

My mother was battling cancer on and off while I was growing up.  She had always come through a winner, even though the battles seemed to get harder and harder.  I was the typical teenager.  Self-absorbed, whiny and felt like the entire world was on some secret mission to ruin my life.  I was talked into going to a track camp at Adams State College ( I have no idea why I would do such a silly thing) but actually was looking forward to it.  I was enjoying a Sunday dinner at home before heading out to Alamosa with friends.  When I got in the car to go, my Mom gave me a hug and told me she was headed to the hospital that afternoon as well.  "Just for some tests" she reassured me, and told me she would be home when I got back the next weekend.  She died a few days after I got home.  She never came back home. 

Mr. and Mrs. C were on their usual summer vacation to visit family in Dallas.  Mrs. C. had a Texas accent that came out when she was being sassy or super angry, other times she sounded like a regular gal from Colorado.  When you heard the accent you were either going to get teased or ripped.  It was like a fire alarm going off.  It was good to have. 

I spent the week busily preparing for my Mother's funeral.  It was a whirlwind and my mind was blank.  One evening after doing all the busy little things that were needed to be done, I came home to a card on the table, addressed to me.  Now mail had been coming on a regular basis after my Mom passed away.  Cards from people who knew her from one of her 500 volunteer activities, church, the Avon lady, the folks at the bank and even the doctor's office staff came every day, addressed to my Dad, or our family.  But this was addressed to me.  It was from Coach.  She took time from her vacation to get me a card, write in it and mail it to me.  She had no idea what that meant to me.  It helped me breathe when I could not breathe.  It reminded me I had a life still.  I had no idea what that life would look like, but I had one.  And, I had people who really cared about me. 

Spring forward to my Senior year.  School seemed mostly like an optional activity, something to do when the ski slopes were not at their peak, or the reservoir was closed.  Mrs. C., however, kept the thumb screws on. I ate dinner at their house,  I ran errands for them.  She threatened my life at times when necessary.  In fact, I recall an evening doing a project for English class with several people working along side of me to finish some poster-board art project.  I knew I had better get it done, Mrs. C was speaking "Texan" to me.  And she wasn't smiling.  I best get it done.

Mrs. C. wrote me in college.  She wrote me when I was a young married mommy with a bunch of little kids.  I would see her and come by and hang out at her pool.  She was with me in the room when my youngest son was born.  She stepped way outside of "high school track coach" and turned into a life coach, a mentor, a friend, and a mom. 

When I began coaching high school sports, I knew who I would coach like.  It was simple, I would follow the lead that Mrs. C showed me, without speaking Texan.  She taught me to pay it forward to the future generation.  She taught me that winning was important, but creating winning people was bigger and ultimately, of infinite value.  

Thanks Coach. You are amazing.  You are a dynamic woman who had molded the lives of thousands of young women who walked the halls of Boulder High and put on track cleats.  Tomorrow at the BVI's I will be so proud to stand next to you while they honor you for your work .  It's long overdue, and its not nearly enough, but it's something. 

You show us we all can make a difference, one random woman at a time! 

Happy Birthday Sweet Daughter!

Yesterday my oldest child turned 27.   How did the time fly by so fast?  Wasn't it just yesterday I was fretting over wearing elastic waist maternity jeans?  Today I share some memories of my oldest as I celebrate the woman she has become. 

March 1984....You weren't due until; April but you came early.  (I should have figured then patience was not your strong suit!)  We headed to the hospital.  Your dad decided  we should stop and put gas in the car on the way to the hospital.  (The hospital was a block away, I figured we could probably make it there even on fumes- but your dad insisted.....I began envisioning how  to give birth in a blue VW Bug.....luckily we made it to the hospital!)  You were born a little later, and were perfect!!!  I could not believe I was a mother.  I forgot to turn off the iron.  I left the keys in the car.  How could I ever raise a child?   I was terrified, but you made every minute worth the fear in my soul.  We started to figure it out! 


Spring 1986.... I was pregnant again with your little brother. You were sassy, strong-willed funny and smart.  We headed to K-Mart (because there were no other stores to choose from in our little town) and you were looking for toys.  I have been reading parenting books.  I am confidant in my parenting skills.  Then the dreaded K-Mart incident happened.   I squat down to look at you in the eye, so we have perfect eye contact and I am not talking "down" to you (yea, I read that in a book...)
"Sweetie, three more minutes looking at toys and then we need to go home.  Remember, we are not buying a toy, just looking today!" I say in my calm, perfectly capable parent voice.
"I want a toy!" You say to me. 
"No toy today." I say, firmly but kindly. 
Then what happened next will forever be etched in my mind.  You slugged me.   Not just a little sissy girl punch, you laid me out.  I didn't see the left hook coming.  I tried to lean back but didn't get out of the way.  You caught me right on the nose.  I fell backwards.  You looked at me defiantly and  said, "I want a toy!......please?"  I can hardly see you, as my eyes are watering.  I reach up to my nose and catch the blood on my hand.  My kid just cold-cocked me in the face and bloodied my nose.  I grabbed you and headed out to the car.  You sensed the gravity of the situation and didn't say a word.  I buckled you into the car seat and headed home in silence. 
I am driving home thinking of the kid in the car seat at age16.  Stealing cars, knocking off 7-11's, selling grandma's meds, prison.... What's next?? 
We head to the house and I am a mixture between fuming, confused and scared.  You put your arms around me, look me in the eyes and say "Sorry Mommy" and hug me tight.  Suddenly all my fears go away.  You are not going to jail- you are not Bonnie looking for Clyde.  You are a tough, independent woman who is not going to take any crap from anyone.  You will be just fine.  I do make a mental note to take away the punching bag in your room. 

The memories flood my mind this weekend as we celebrate your birthday.  Soccer games, basketball games, Disneyland, middle school kids in my backyard, the gaggle of your friends, the "camping" incident, the "door" incident (We will save those for another time!) A wonderful husband, and your own turn with your three wonderful children.   How lucky am I to be your mom?  I must have done something right somewhere to  be so blessed to have you in my life. 

The circle of life is a funny thing.  One day we are the kid playing on the tramp, then it's your own child jumping on the tramp, then a grandchild.  I don't feel any older, but the time marches on.  Hopefully we take some time to remember the little funny memories that make life so sweet.  Stop today to remember the wonderful people in your life.  While I won't take credit for the awesome person my daughter has become, but I do know I have made an impact on her life... good and bad...but isn't that what this life is all about? Making a difference...one random woman at a time!

These are a few of my LEAST favorite things.....

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.......I declare....

I have a strong dislike for gnomes

 I am sorry. 

I know I will offend some people who have little garden art all around, and I don't mean to offend.  I just can't take them.  Gnomes are redneck cousins of Santa's elves. Why did we start putting creepy little people in our yard and nailing large metal butterflies to our house? 

I did my grandmotherly duty and took my grandchildren to see "Gnomeo and Juliet" and I suppose there were cute parts in it. 

I am concerned that Elton John is worried about college tuition for his new baby if he is letting a movie like this use his music. 

Gnomes dancing to "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting" 

Help me.  

That is a lot for this Grandma to take.  

And I have seen "Space Chimps". 

AND 

"Beverly Hills Chihuahua". 

I am no wimp. 

Save the money and rent this movie from Redbox so the kids can see it and you can do something important.  

Like hose off the pink flamingos in your yard.

Operation McGyver

It was a bad week.  We had been sick all week with various illnesses and I was just plain worn out by Thursday night.  My son Travis wanted Manwiches for dinner.  (Because a sandwich is a sandwich, but a Manwich is a meal!)  We started out browning the hamburger and all was going along splendidly!   I grabbed the can of Manwich sauce and went to the drawer for the can opener.  This was no ordinary can opener.  My friend had given it to me when she moved.  It was slick.  I had never seen anything like it!  It didn't cut the can, it removed the entire metal top leaving no sharp edges.  This was like something out of a science fiction movie! Who could think that a can opener could be so amazing.  Anyway, I am getting off track. 

The can opener was broken. I looked around for another can opener, because we have to have more than one  laying around the house, right?  No such luck.  There I am, with hamburger reaching optimum browning stage and I can't open the manwich sauce.

  In a simpler time,  you would just run to the neighbor and borrow, right?  The one neighbor I would consider borrowing from was not home, and the grumpy dude who lives next store would probably meet me at the door with a chainsaw, so that was not an option.  The lady across the street seemed nice, I had never talked to her- just waved from the driveway.  The other older lady across the street seemed happy when I helped shovel her driveway that day, but me banging on her door at night to borrow kitchen appliances didn't seem right. 

"Wow!" I thought.  " I am a horrible neighbor!"  I resolved to be more active and meet my neighbors, but the bigger task at hand was the lack of can opener  and the delicate time issue of hamburger on my hands. 

Travis is now looking at me with those "sad eyes" that makes a mother feel like the worst parent in the world.  All my kid wants is Manwich.  Is  that too much to ask?  Shesh.  I am a horrible neighbor and horrible parent.  This is not a good week!

"There must be something we can open the can with!" I smile.  I start digging through the drawers.  Screw driver in the junk drawer.  Rolling pin.  My mind rolls back to some vintage TV.  Mcgyver could open the can of manwich.  Mcgyver could blow up a plane with a can of Manwich, a phillips head screw driver and a rolling pin....I can do this! 

I put the phillips head screw driver on the can with my left hand.  I take the rolling pin in my right hand.  I begin to pound on the screw driver with the rolling pin. After two sharp hits the screw driver busts through the can!  Houston! We have lift off!  This would be easier than I thought.  I began to pound the can poking holes in it with the screw driver and the rolling pin.  Travis looks at me like I have lost it. 

I envision the men in the white coats coming, to take me away.  Ha Ha.  He He.  I envision my son, scared for life, telling the therapist, "Then my mom took a screw driver and a rolling pin....."  I snap back to the task at hand.  

The can has several holes in it, and I pry it open and dump the Manwich sauce into the hamburger.   I smile and say, "dinner will be ready in a couple minutes!"  My son laughs as we wash the manwich sauce off the screw driver. 

Yea, my son may think I am crazy, but I hope he figures out that I am resourceful and that you don't let little setbacks deter you from what you want.  I hope he sees that there are a lot of ways to get something done. I hope he has a little "McGyver" in him to be strong enough to handle the tough stuff.  These goofy little moments that all add up as we make a difference, one random woman at a time!

My First Published Piece!

I had my first article published!

http://www.tofw.com/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&x=0&y=0&query=german+mom


It is fitting that the first article I have published is about my mom.  She is my rock, and I hope someday when I see her again that she will be proud of me. 

When I shared the link with a dear friend in Kansas, she wrote:

"I loved reading about my dear friend Dot. She was my VT when I had a miscarriage and I'll never forget her visits with me. I was slightly afraid of her, but loved her with all my heart. She would be so proud of you today!"

Thank you to all of you who support me in my dream to write.  I have a wonderful family and amazing friends.  Get out there and do something you love, do something you have always wanted to do, and for heaven's sake, get out there and make a difference, one random woman at a time.