It Was That Easy

Of course, if I had received any advance warning of the impossibility of the arduous undertaking I would soon find myself regretfully immersed in, I would have rapidly abandoned all illusion of parental compassion and concern. I would have just told the teenager that I really didn’t care if her old basketball shoes gave her blisters. I would have turned a blind eye to those slippery soles that caused her to fall down on the hardwood and come home bruised and battered.

But I didn’t have any advanced warning.

So when the teenager announced that she needed new basketball shoes I eagerly agreed to help her shop for them. I was, of course, naive and oblivious, singing along to the radio, when I drove those back roads to the mall that one Saturday morning. I had initially wanted to travel south to the super large sports store. But the teenager pointed out that if that single super large sports store did not have what she was specifically looking for, we were somewhat far away from any other basketball shoe store. So instead, we headed north to the insanity of the big mall and the many accompanying strip malls within close proximity. With this option, we would have 12 stores to choose from.

The teenager found basketball shoes that she liked at the very first store we went to. She did not however, find them in the correct color or the correct size.

We spent the next 4 1/2 hours travelling to the other 11 stores in the area. We looked at many, many different kinds of shoes but didn’t try on a single pair. As a last resort, I convinced the teenager to go back to the first store and again, try on the pair that she had initially liked. I tried to convince her that ½ a size too big wasn’t really THAT big. I tried to convince her that the color didn’t matter one bit. I tried to convince her to, please, put me out of my shopping misery and just pick any darn pair of shoes in that store as soon as she possibly could.

This unsuccessful shoe shopping was making me very cranky.

I was not, apparently, the only ill-natured mother in the store that day.

I heard another mother raise her voice and I turned my head to see a teenage girl shaking her head. I heard her mother bark, “What do you mean ‘white basketball shoes are stupid’? That’s ridiculous. When I was a kid I was grateful to even have a pair of shoes, let alone special basketball shoes. I wouldn’t have dared tell my mother they were the wrong color!”

It wasn’t long before another mother/daughter pair joined in on the shoe shopping discontent. This time it was the daughter who provided the lecture. “Yes. Mother. They are too small. They really, really are. Besides, I wanted the Nike and these are Adidas. Nobody on my team wears Adidas. I’ll look like an idiot if I’m the only one with Adidas shoes.”

As we three mothers began to commiserate with each other, the three daughters huffed a lot, rolled their eyeballs and asked each other what high school they played for. One mother finally announced, with great frustration, that she and her daughter were going to have to brave the mall stores. She was a fair bit testy and patently annoyed when the other mother and I said that our shoe shopping experiences at the mall had produced nothing other than lunch at the Panda Express.



The teenager and I left that store empty handed. As we drove away, the teenager grumbled a request to go to the super large sports store. After a long day of shoe searching, I most definitely did did not want to travel south to that super large sports store. But the teenager pointed out that if anyone would have the shoes she wanted, it would be the super large sports store, of course. And so, like all obedient sports mothers who have come before me, I drove south. I drove another half hour to the very store we had considered starting with many, many hours earlier that day.

The teenager and I arrived at the super large sports store at 3:32 pm. The teenager walked over to the basketball shoe section. She found the shoes she liked. She found the right size. She found the right color. She tried them on. We paid for them. At 3:49 pm we drove out of the parking lot and headed home.

It was that easy.


Check This Out!

The husband and I have been doing a little remodeling. In an effort to get a few ideas for our home projects, I’ve been enjoying the book, The Not So Big House.

From author’s website comes this description,“The Not So Big House books by Sarah Susanka bring to light a new way of thinking about what makes a place feel like home—characteristics that many people desire of their homes and their lives, but haven't known how to verbalize."

Full of great ideas for all areas of your home, the initial book The Not So Big House and the many other similar ones that follow it do not focus merely on square footage and the standard builder options all too common in today’s modern houses. Ms. Susanka's books offer creative examples that make a real design impact that is personal, meaningful and most likely, just what you wanted for your home.

Explore more at www.notsobighouse.com and www.susanka.com.

It's All In How You Look At It

I am highly amused at the amplified and exaggerated presentation of televised sports. It seems each contest is now presented as a “game for the history books”, a “race like we’ve never seen” or the “matchup of the century”. Each athlete is also portrayed in a heroic manner with their own heartbreaking, often tragic and desperate story. It is only an unusual and inspirational inner strength that allows them to play the “game of their career” today.

Come on. It’s just a game. They’re just regular people. The games and the athletes only seem superior and more exciting when they are elevated to such exceptional and extraordinary status by the television sports commentators. In fact, even the most presumably mundane life can appear to be special, exciting and inspirational if you just look at it the right way.

Sally Scrapbooks Until Midnight!
Sally scrapbooks today with a determination that we haven’t seen in years. Sally has failed in meeting her scrapbooking goals during her last 5 crops. Sally does admit to falling behind in her photo and page prep work compared to her more dedicated peers. A recent Personal Trimmer injury only added to her lackadaisical attitude. At crops, she has been seen chatting and eating the snacks more than other scrapbookers who took the crop more seriously. This has caused her to lose sight of her ultimate goal of completing a baby album for her son. This crop, however, Sally has refocused her efforts and has been sighted with a Power Layouts box. This can only mean that Sally is determined to rise above her past failures and finally reach the scrapbooking pinnacle that she has always dreamed about-a completed album. Success is virtually guaranteed.

Chuck Changes the Oil!
Chuck comes from a long line of oil changers. It’s hard to believe, but Chuck’s father changed his own oil before there was such a thing as synthetic. Chuck’s grandfather changed his own oil until he was 83 years old. And of course we can’t ignore the stunning fact that Chuck’s cousin Fred has changed the oil in his car, truck, boat, motorcycle, jet ski and generator-all in one weekend. With such obvious familial endowment for oil changing, it is no surprise that there was significant pressure on young Chuck to change oil as soon as he could be trusted not to use the creeper as a skateboard. Chuck was eventually recruited by the Jiffy Lube Corporation right out of his Jefferson High School auto body class. Chuck’s talent was recognized by that organization when he was named Employee of the Month an unprecedented 7 times. After 5 years, Chuck parted ways with the Jiffy Lube Corporation when he decided to take a position at the local Walmart because they had better benefits. Chuck currently lives outside of Omaha with his wife and 3 children where he now changes oil for pleasure only.

Sharon Shops ‘Til She Drops!
Sharon grew up in a disadvantaged shopping environment. She came from a dysfunctional shopping family that insisted on having a budget and planning each purchase. It wasn’t until Sharon got to college that she was finally given the opportunity to fulfill her shopping destiny. It was at UCLA when Sharon was introduced to her shopping mentor, sorority sister and lifelong shopaholic, Impulse Irene. Irene was instrumental in giving Sharon the tools to become the truly extraordinary shopper we see before us today. Sharon was determined to not be intimidated by her wealthier and more aggressive shopping sorority sisters. As Sharon absorbed all of the teachings of Impulse Irene, she gained shopping confidence. By the end of her 4 years at UCLA, Sharon had learned how to pay one credit card with another, that Saks Fifth Avenue always does their markdowns on Monday evenings and that no matter how depressed she gets, shopping will always make her feel better. Sharon now lives by the philosophy that every woman should have 3 good friends to get her through the tough times. Sharon highly recommends Kate Spade for her handbags, Jimmy Choo for his shoes, and Roberto Cavalli for his Italian made, flutter sleeve jersey dress from his spring 2007 collection.

So you see, we just need to look at things the right way, like the television commentators do. It appears we all can be full of inspiration and determination as we live our own “unparalled life”-just like the exciting athletes we see on TV. Now, where is that number for Nike? I want a big shoe contract.

Check This Out!

Sausage Ragu Bolognese
Saute an onion, 3 carrots and 3 celery stalks, all finely diced, in a little bit of olive oil or cooking spray until soft. Add 1 pound Italian sausauge, crumble and cook until no longer pink. Add 1/2 bottle of white wine or similar amount of chicken broth and simmer until fully absorbed. Add 3 or 4 cups of milk or cream and simmer until fully absorbed. Add a few shakes of nutmeg and 3 15oz cans of diced tomatoes. Throw in some basil if you have it, as well. I usually mash the mixture a bit with my potato masher to help break up the tomatoes. Simmer mostly covered for 3 1/2 hours or until the kids come in from playing outside. Toss the whole mess with a pound of rigatoni. Enjoy a little piece of heaven.