Traveling Overseas.....

As Dylan and I are about to embark on yet another European journey, I could not help but think today about all of the cherished memories I have from previous trips abroad. My first trip across the pond was in high school with Mom, Dad and Beefy, and I have since had the privilege of taking high school students, their parents and Dylan to Europe. 

 

I remember being ecstatic to see the Moulin Rouge windmill because the movie with Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman had either just come out and I was obsessed. 

I remember the drive out to Caen and the Normandy beaches because our hired driver played the same Blondie cassette tape the entire 2 1/2 hours out to the site, And! He played the entire thing again the whole way back to Paris. (I think it was his only English-speaking tape) I don't dislike Blondie, but I remember thinking that if I heard another Blondie song anytime soon after that ride, I might poke my eyeballs out. To this day, I cannot hear any of her songs without thinking of that French taxi ride. I also remember the beaches and cemetery were freezing!!!! The wind took your break away as you stood atop the cliff, looking down on the beaches and fake American harbor below. 

I remember the utter horror and desolateness of Dachau Concentration Camp in Germany. I remember none of us speaking to each other or other people the entire 2 hours we were there. I remember crying the entire time. I remembered the horror at realizing the town of Munich was only 10 minutes away, yet no one did anything during the War. 

This is the "Mouth of Truth" in Rome, Italy. Legend says to stick your hand inside the mouth and then have a close friend ask you a question. If you lie, the mouth will bite your hand off. If you tell the truth, nothing happens. I remember very clearly how my Dad choose to scare me from behind by grabbing me and making some stupid noise. I screamed and pulled my hand away, thinking I had been bitten. In hindsight, I realize I was never asked a question, but at the time, I was scared spitless and infuriated at my dad. 

I remember eating Italian-style pizza in front of the Pantheon and feeling like a local. The weather was gorgeous! And I remember this because every other city we went too, it had either rained on us or been cold!! Rome was warm and beautiful! 

I remember the "adult" conversation we all had with my brother at the entrance to the Red Light District in Amsterdam, Holland. I also remember my brother turning the corner here, telling everyone as loud as he could "There were naked ladies in the windows!!" Hahahahahahaha!!! Too funny! 

My first experience eating "Foie Gras" or Duck Liver... Now, I try anything while in Europe. In this case, TRY was the operative word... ugh! 

The Eiffel Tower is beautiful.. period. I have seen this tower at least 5 times now, and she never gets old. This view is from the River Seine and is one of my favorites. She is impressive during the day, but at night, she glistens  and glows. 

Vienna, Austria, was exquisite Baroque churches and yummy, yummy food!!! Dylan and I seriously had some of the best food of our lives in this town. Below is the Demel Bakery (Dylan's relatives many people down the line started it!). I know we went back at least 3 different times to try more and more pastries. Ironically, we had some of the best Lebanese/Mediterranean food here too. 

Newschwanstein Castle in Fussen, Germany, is LEGIT! Seriously the best castle ever! I mean, if were to build a castle, I would put it on the top of a mountain too. I remember coming here with my parents because we had this taxi drive us on the Autobahn to get here from Munich, and I thought we were going to die because the man drove 120 miles an hour, at least! Plus, there were no seatbelts in the BMW either!!! Dylan and I were much smarter and went by train!! 

I twirled and sang the whole theme to "Sound of Music" high atop the Swiss Alps in Lauderbrunnen, Switzerland. Seriously one of the best moments of my life!!! 

Dragging luggage all over Italy and all over France with the kids... oy vey!!! Trains, buses, planes- you name it! 

Pompeii, Italy, with the whole Marshall crew! It was hot and they were such troopers! The place was also filled with tons of sexual references, both visual and written, and I have to say, they behaved as best as 17 year old students can around that stuff!!! :) 

 Looking forward to adding more memories with another set of kiddos, parents and friends as we embark on our European Vacay to England and France! 

The Great Escape.... Almost

Saturday morning found Goobz and I headed to the Vet for his yearly check up. Now, I don't know about your dog but mine.... Well, he HATES the Vet. Goobz also knows when we are going to the Vet too. Literally, we turn down the street for the Vet's office, and Goobz goes from hanging out the car window to cowering in the back of the Escape. Maybe he associates the smell on that street with the Vet.... who knows? Either way, by the time I turn into the parking lot, he has become a total spaz. 

I have to pry him out of the back seat. Putting him on a leash... haha! Yeah right! I carry him into the Vet, with his claws digging into my shirt, making it seem like I am taking him to his doom. The ladies at the front Love Love my dog, as they should! He will not let me put him down, but Goobz will allow the ladies to pet him and love on him... from within the comfort of Mommy's arms, of course. 

I always take him at the earliest appointment if possible because this way there are not any other animals in the office to bother Goobz or tempt him. I put him down on the floor and he sits right in front of the door, whining and making pitiful noises the whole time. He needs to be weighed before he can be taken into the exam room. The scale is this huge apparatus that looks like a treadmill on the floor. The dog/cat is supposed to just stand on the scale while it reads their weight. Every time, the ladies at the front think dog biscuits will persuade Goobz to willing step on the scale. Every time, Epic Failure. The biscuits are healthy and bland- Goobz wants the real thing. He completely ignores the biscuits, regardless of how many the lady puts on the floor. I laugh internally at this every time. :) I have to pick him up and place Goobz on the scale. Now, he and I are working on commands this summer. I have him at "Stay" for about 5-10 seconds, so I told the lady "you better do this fast because then he is off and running." Yay! It works! Now we can go into the exam room. 

 The technician/nurse who comes to get Goobz is male- uh oh! Goobz has a problem with males... He is not fond of them, unless you are Dylan or Kenneth Sumners, and then well, he loves you! This technician though, is neither of those people. And I tell the young man my dog really does not like males, and he gives me the whole "No worries. All animals love me.." spiel. O-KAY, we will see bout that. Once again, I carry Goobz into the exam room as the guy tries to sweet talk Goobz. Now, the doors into the exam room and then back into the treatment area of the clinic are those revolving/swing type doors. Now, why you put these in a clinic where animals who know how to use doors roam around is beyond me, but this clinic does. The technician tells me he is going to take Goobz back for bloodwork etc., and they will be back. I release Goobz, thinking the young man is going to take my dog, but the guy is too slow. Goobz is off the table on the floor and pushing through the revolving door back out into the main office/reception area in a manner of seconds!!! 

Mayday! Mayday! Goobz is on the run!!! I sigh, very loudly and pointedly at the young man who I warned, and head out into the main area to corral Goobz. I can hear the young ladies at the front laughing at Goobz as they try to grab him... to no avail. I find him running in circles around the front desk with his tongue hanging out the side and his eyes wild and crazy. He sees me and comes hauling over to me, probably hoping Mommy will rescue him. Well, I do, but not in the way he wants. Oh, I forgot to mention there are loads of other people in the reception area by this point who are all laughing at Goobz. So embarrassing!!! 

Back again into the exam room with the male technician. This time I hand Goobz off to this young man, making sure the guy has a firm grip on my dog. Goobz at this point is just stiff. He won't bend any of his legs, won't bend his body, refuses to look at either of us... typical child. Through the revolving doors into the treatment area they go. Whew, I think! That was fun... not. I barely sit down on the chair to wait, when I hear this huge CRASH! BANG! CLANG! coming from the treatment area. My heart sinks.... because I know what happened. I know... because a Mother knows (whether it be human or animal) when their child/dog is the cause of the noise/problem. I know the technician lost hold of my dog again, and Goobz is now running around the treatment area, crashing into trays and knocking stuff onto the floor in his mad attempt to get out. Sure enough, not 10 seconds later I hear a frantic "Goober! Come back here!" 

At this, I start to laugh. I mean, what else am I going to do??? A small part of me feels sorry for the guy who cannot control my dog, but then I think- you get paid to handle animals. My dog weighs all of like 12 pounds... what is wrong with you?! Another larger part of me is thinking Yay Goobz!!! He is fast and smart- run buddy run!! And then another larger part of me is realizing, Goobz is your dog Megan. Everyone in this office will know he is crazy... great. This is is the 2nd time in a manner of 30 minutes Goobz has caused destruction and mayhem... Oy vey! 

Goobz comes back in a while later in the arms of the Vet... who is a lady. Now, to say Goobz "likes" the Vet is strong language, but he does "tolerate" her. He stands nice and still for her, lets her pet him, etc.  She finishes the exam, doing things the technician should have done, but can't because he cannot control Goobz. She declares Goobz fine and fit- yay for a healthy puppy!!! :) 

A huge Vet bill later- major ugh!! I counted it up yesterday... a yearly visit for Goobz cost more than the dentist, the eye doctor, my contacts, the OBG visit and my medication all together.. for the year!!! That is just disgusting when you think about it!!!!! But, what can ya do?

As we are leaving, with Goobz once again in a death grip in my arms, the people in the office are laughing about all the "excitement" they have had this morning, and it is barely nine o'clock. So very glad Goobz and I could entertain everyone this morning.. oy vey!!! Back in the car, Goobz refuses to sit anywhere but in my lap. Thank goodness I don't drive a standard anymore.. hehe! But I don't blame him.. what a traumatic morning! We get home, and he hauls under the bed to hide. I let him, thinking if someone had given me shots in the butt, in the stomach, in the cheek and stuck cold metal objects up my rear end holes, I would be a basket case of tears, moans and groans. 
Kuddos to my Goobz for trying to make a break! Kuddos to my guy for outsmarting the technician! Kuddos to my guy for being tough and enduring the exam!  

"No one heard a single word he said. Should have seen it in his eyes, what was going round his head. Oooh, he's a little Runaway....."

"I Do!!!" to our 5 Year Wedding Anniversary

Hail to the Chief... Chief Mountain!

 Chief Mountain: Elevation 11,709 ft. Round trip... around 2.5 or 3 miles. This was our first mountain upon arriving in the Denver area this past 4th of July weekend. We had been in the mountains for less than 24 hours and needed to gain some elevation for our big 14,000 ft. mountains Dylan and I had planned for Saturday. Friday morning found us starting out bright and early on the trail, praying we adjusted well to the altitude and had good weather for the hike and the view from the top. 

As you can see, weather was gorgeous! The hike was nice and easy. A great hike for beginners. It was perfect for Dylan and I to get our "feet wet" the day before the big ones. Chief Mountain is located near the town of Idaho Springs, CO, if you are ever in the area and looking for an easy, 1-2 hour hike with amazing views of the surrounding mountains of Denver. 

I kept seeing all of these "red berries" on the trees around us as we hiked to the top. I finally stopped Dylan to get a closer look at the "berries" and discovered they are small burgundy colored Pine Cones... who knew??!! I thought they were beautiful and had to take a picture. 

Dylan always climbs first... always. I have a horrible sense of direction and require him to be in the lead, so I do not get lost. He also seems to find the better paths and places for my feet and hands to go when we climb the boulders. Not quite sure why he likes to take pictures of my awkwardness as I ascend these mountains, but he does... 

Yahoo!! We made it to the top and had great views!!! We could see Long's Peak (which Dylan did last year- it is supposed to be one of the hardest 14teeners to accomplish in CO), Pike's Peak (America's Mountain), and Mount Evans, our goal for Saturday. The weather was nice.. not too chilly on the top. I only had on a T-shirt and a Northface layer that day. The color the clouds give the mountains is so pretty and if you stay in one spot for a few minutes, the clouds shift and change the color and shape of the mountains. Dylan and I hung out on the top, chatting with these seasoned climbers who offered advice for Evans and just enjoyed chatting with other people who liked to climb mountains. 

Chief is the mountain in the background. We always like to take pics as we are ascending, when they look so much higher and scarier than the mountain actually is, and when we are on the road going away from the mountain. The view from the road always feels me with great satisfaction, pride and a kick-ass attitude that Dylan and I made it to the top of that thing and lived to tell the tale!! 

Towards the end of the road is the turn-off for Mount Evans and a national park/camping area around this lake, Echo Lake. Dylan and I had lunch here, listening to the waves roll into shore and took one of the short scenic trails around the water's edge to the other side of the lake. As you can see, it was getting on in the afternoon and the clouds/rain were moving into the mountain area. ALWAYS, ALWAYS have to be off the mountain and back in the car by 1... 2 pm at the latest!!! Otherwise, YOU WILL GET WET! 

This area is not known for waterfalls, but I saw this as we were traveling back into town and thought it was so pretty and serene! I was also pleasantly surprised to find a small waterfall! After having traveled the Hana Road in Maui, viewing their gorgeous, lush waterfalls and traveled the Columbia Gorge, viewing their huge, staggering waterfalls, I am into waterfalls. The sheer power of the water just amazes me! 

"The point is... when I see a sunset or waterfall or something, for a split second it's so great because I'm a little bit out of my brain and it's got nothing to do with me. I"m not trying to figure it out, ya know what I mean? And I wonder if I can somehow find a way to maintain that mind stillness..." -Chris Evans-

Yah, I'm that girl....

So.... I might be a TAD OBSESSED with the care and preparation for Goobz when Dylan and I go away on vacation. These are the instructions and items needed for my student to watch Goobz while we are away. And this is only for 4 or 5 days!!! Can you imagine how it will be when we go to Europe for 12??!! 

Now, she already knows where everything is. She already came over to the house... met Goobz... got the layout of everything, etc.

She even took notes on her phone while I talked!! (Do I train my kiddos well or what?! Hehehehehehe!!!) BUT.... I still feel compelled to do all of this. 

Are the sticky notes too over the top?? Erm... probably. But, never forget the power of the sticky note for the teacher!!! Even during the summer I cannot get away from them. 

It is just so very hard to leave my little guy!!! Part of me is like YES! Freedom!! I don't have to worry about walks, bathroom business, play time, how long Dylan and I can be out, etc. And then the other HUGE part of me panics at the thought of NOT BEING WITH MY LITTLE GUY!!! 

How does he know we are coming back? Who will he snuggle with for naps and bedtime? Will he get the right kind of playtime? Will he eat enough? Will he be mad at me when we come back.... he generally is. What if he gets off the leash and gets lost? OMG.... the horrible thoughts are just everywhere! 

Must. Stop. Negative. Thoughts. 

I have already cried once today about leaving him. I should probably wait until we are on the plane tomorrow before I have another spell... otherwise, Dylan might hurt me. 

So... as I go to love on my precious Goobz and snuggle in bed, I leave you with this thought: 

Can you only imagine how I will be with real, human being children???!!! 

Tear Jerker: Tissues Required....

"When your mother says she's Fat"

By Kasey Edwards

June 23, 2013

7.3K

Originally appeared on The Daily Life. Republished here with permission.

Dear Mom,
I was 7 when I discovered that you were fat, ugly, and horrible. Up until that point I had believed that you were beautiful—in every sense of the word. I remember flicking through old photo albums and staring at pictures of you standing on the deck of a boat. Your white strapless bathing suit looked so glamorous, just like a movie star. Whenever I had the chance I’d pull out that wondrous white bathing suit hidden in your bottom drawer and imagine a time when I’d be big enough to wear it; when I’d be like you.
But all of that changed when, one night, we were dressed up for a party and you said to me, ‘‘Look at you, so thin, beautiful, and lovely. And look at me, fat, ugly, and horrible.’’
At first I didn’t understand what you meant.

‘‘You’re not fat,’’ I said earnestly and innocently, and you replied, ‘‘Yes I am, darling. I’ve always been fat; even as a child.’’
In the days that followed I had some painful revelations that have shaped my whole life. I learned that:
1. You must be fat because mothers don’t lie.
2. Fat is ugly and horrible.
3. When I grow up I’ll look like you and therefore I will be fat, ugly, and horrible too.

Years later, I looked back on this conversation and the hundreds that followed and cursed you for feeling so unattractive, insecure, and unworthy. Because, as my first and most influential role model, you taught me to believe the same thing about myself.
With every grimace at your reflection in the mirror, every new wonder diet that was going to change your life, and every guilty spoon of ‘‘Oh-I-really-shouldn’t,’’ I learned that women must be thin to be valid and worthy. Girls must go without because their greatest contribution to the world is their physical beauty.
Just like you, I have spent my whole life feeling fat. When did fat become a feeling anyway? And because I believed I was fat, I knew I was no good.
But now that I am older, and a mother myself, I know that blaming you for my body hatred is unhelpful and unfair. I now understand that you too are a product of a long and rich lineage of women who were taught to loathe themselves.

Look at the example Nanna set for you. Despite being what could only be described as famine-victim chic, she dieted every day of her life until the day she died at 79 years of age. She used to put on makeup to walk to the mailbox for fear that somebody might see her unpainted face.
I remember her ‘‘compassionate’’ response when you announced that Dad had left you for another woman. Her first comment was, ‘‘I don’t understand why he’d leave you. You look after yourself, you wear lipstick. You’re overweight, but not that much.’’
Before Dad left, he provided no balm for your body-image torment either.
‘‘Jesus, Jan,’’ I overheard him say to you. ‘‘It’s not that hard. Energy in versus energy out. If you want to lose weight you just have to eat less.’’
That night at dinner I watched you implement Dad’s ‘‘Energy In, Energy Out: Jesus, Jan, Just Eat Less’’ weight-loss cure. You served up chow mein for dinner. Everyone else’s food was on a dinner plate except yours. You served your chow mein on a tiny bread-and-butter plate.
As you sat in front of that pathetic scoop of mince, silent tears streamed down your face. I said nothing. Not even when your shoulders started heaving from your distress. We all ate our dinner in silence. Nobody comforted you. Nobody told you to stop being ridiculous and get a proper plate. Nobody told you that you were already loved and already good enough. Your achievements and your worth—as a teacher of children with special needs and a devoted mother of three of your own—paled into insignificance when compared with the centimeters you couldn’t lose from your waist.

It broke my heart to witness your despair and I’m sorry that I didn’t rush to your defense. I’d already learned that it was your fault that you were fat. I’d even heard Dad describe losing weight as a ‘‘simple’’ process—yet one that you still couldn’t come to grips with. The lesson: You didn’t deserve any food and you certainly didn’t deserve any sympathy.
But I was wrong, Mom. Now I understand what it’s like to grow up in a society that tells women that their beauty matters most, and at the same time defines a standard of beauty that is perpetually out of our reach. I also know the pain of internalizing these messages. We have become our own jailors and we inflict our own punishments for failing to measure up. No one is more cruel to us than we are to ourselves.
But this madness has to stop, Mom. It stops with you, it stops with me, and it stops now. We deserve better—better than to have our days brought to ruin by bad body thoughts, wishing we were otherwise.

And it’s not just about you and me anymore. It’s also about Violet. Your granddaughter is only 3 and I do not want body hatred to take root inside her and strangle her happiness, her confidence, and her potential. I don’t want Violet to believe that her beauty is her most important asset; that it will define her worth in the world. When Violet looks to us to learn how to be a woman, we need to be the best role models we can be. We need to show her with our words and our actions that women are good enough just the way they are. And for her to believe us, we need to believe it ourselves.

The older we get, the more loved ones we lose to accidents and illness. Their passing is always tragic and far too soon. I sometimes think about what these friends—and the people who love them—wouldn’t give for more time in a body that was healthy. A body that would allow them to live just a little longer. The size of that body’s thighs or the lines on its face wouldn’t matter. It would be alive and therefore it would be perfect.
Your body is perfect too. It allows you to disarm a room with your smile and infect everyone with your laugh. It gives you arms to wrap around Violet and squeeze her until she giggles. Every moment we spend worrying about our physical ‘‘flaws’’ is a moment wasted, a precious slice of life that we will never get back.
Let us honor and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs. When I looked at that photo of you in the white bathing suit all those years ago, my innocent young eyes saw the truth. I saw unconditional love, beauty, and wisdom. I saw my Mom.
Love, Kasey xx

Kasey Edwards is a writer based in Australia and author of 30-Something And Over It. You can follow her on Twitter here.