Tag Archives: Family

Countdown to the Birkie

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With three family members skiing the American Birkebeiner 50k cross-country ski race this year, there was great potential for raising the level of anxiety and pre-race drama to a fever pitch.  But instead, we were focusing on Rich’s medical problems – a guaranteed way to put life in perspective.  An enlarged prostate that landed him in the emergency room last week didn’t stop him from planning to ski the Birkie.  He continued his training with a catheter, and pressed his already-tired body to stride around the trails.  Going ahead with Skiing Book Across the Bay as planned was an important psychological and emotional achievement, and his doctor and nurse were very impressed!

SCM-2Good news came yesterday – while surgery is required, it is a week away and Rich has the all-clear to ski the Birkie.  The race is still on!  Better yet, he will ski catheter-free.  Look out, ski cam man will return in his signature knickers.

So today we entered the pre-Birkie phase with a vengeance.  We’ve checked the weather forecast for Hayward numerous times.  It doesn’t change much, but somehow it satisfies a need to be informed.  And then there were the discussions over glide wax.  A friend skiing with us offered his fancy waxes, but I don’t know what to do with wax whose name I can’t pronounce.  Red and Blue are my standbys.  After much consternation, emailing with Erik our son, and checking temperature ratings, I finally decided on three coats of red and a final layer of blue.  Will I really know the difference?

We will be driving to Hayward for the day, rather than spending big bucks on underwhelming hotel rooms.  The departure schedule has been set and revised a few times.  With snow in the forecast, we’re allowing extra travel time.  And we hope not to repeat the wrong turn we took last year on the way…

Packing for the event is my forte.  My penchant for making lists does come in handy once in a while.  And yes, of course I have my list from last year’s Birkie.  I have no excuse for forgetting anything vital.

We’ve done our final easy ski, our pasta dinner is in the works, and an early bedtime is planned.  The countdown ends tomorrow.  We’re ready to ski the Birkie!

Are you prepared?

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Nothing can prepare you for a phone call from the Emergency Room.

I’d had a lovely morning making cookies and decorating Valentines with my grandson, completely oblivious to the trauma that was going on in my husband’s life.  We were just finishing up our lunch when I got the call.  Rich was in the Emergency Room at the hospital, and managed to relay that he’d been sent there by ambulance from Now Care – but he was “okay.”  Really, okay?  He’d been pumped full of morphine and other drugs, so the conversation wasn’t 100% lucid, but he had a burning question for me – what was the name of his primary doctor?  The hospital wanted to access his health history, but he just couldn’t recall the doctor’s name.  Not surprising under the circumstances.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t a clue.  I did recall the general location of the clinic where I’d taken him for his colonoscopy, and Rich managed to put a name to it.  Contacting them, I was able to find out he’d been a patient there, but his doctor had retired.  All other information was locked behind the health information access laws.  But at least I had a number that Rich could call to request the information himself.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was a start.

That was a wake-up call.  What if Rich had been unconscious, and unable to speak for himself?  What other information would I need, that is locked in his head, his phone contacts or his computer?  We’ve done pretty well at sharing financial data and logins with each other, but we never gave health information a thought.  It’s clearly time to get our information sharing in order.

For now, I’ll start with the names and phone numbers of our doctors and attorney.  Then we need to move on to any health information access forms we can sign to authorize each other to manage that data.  We recently learned that should something happen to our 20-something, unattached sons, we would have no say in their treatment unless they had a Health Care Directive giving us those rights.  Who would have thought about that for young people?  That just moved up our To-Do list.

From there, we need to move on to other information.  In this age of digital data, that takes on a whole new meaning, especially as Rich and I are very technology-centric.  I used to work with a trust and estate attorney who specializes in managing one’s digital assets.  His Digital Passing blog immediately came to mind, and there I found a wealth of information.

By the way, the scare is over, if the health ordeal isn’t.  What they originally thought was a kidney stone turned out to be an enlarged prostate.  I brought Rich home that afternoon, and he’s in the midst of additional tests to determine his treatment.  It doesn’t appear to be cancer at this point, which is a relief.  And despite his “extra plumbing” Rich is determined to remain active, which his doctor encouraged.  Yesterday he went cross-country skiing, and he hasn’t yet ruled out doing the Birkie!  He’s also facing this head-on, blogging about the physical and emotional side of his journey.

Nobody ever wants a call like the one I received this week.  But I hope to pass along what I learn about managing our health and personal information for just such an emergency.  So others can be prepared.

3-2-1 Lego!

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Lego League has been a part of our lives since our son, Erik, begged his dad to let him buy a Lego Mindstorms kit with his own money. We were only too happy to encourage a “toy” that involved Legos and a programmable controller for robotics. From there it was an easy leap to joining Lego League.

Before Erik was involved, we went to see a tournament. They call it “A Sporting Event for the Mind” and that’s exactly what it is. We stepped into a gym to hear blaring music, the professional voice on an emcee and kids competing against each other with robots on 4′ x 8′ fields. It was every bit as exciting as any sport your could imagine.

We were so sold that Rich soon signed on as the team’s coach – never having worked with kids before in his life. A year later, I was drafted to help with the research project and skit for competition. We were all in. Erik stayed with it all through high school, and it propelled him into a top rated engineering school where he earned a degree as an Electrical Engineer. He’s quite a poster child for Lego League.

IMG_9527 trimmedToday, the three of us are volunteer judges for tournaments. Saturdays in late fall and winter will see us spending all day in a school, talking to team after team about their robot, their programming and their research project. It’s a highly satisfying job, and so rewarding to see kids get so excited about working with math, science and technology. It takes a lot of judges to run a tournament, and we meet fascinating people each time we sign on for a tournament. As they say, when you give of your time, you get so much more in return.

IMG_9534Of course, the most exciting part for the kids are the Competition Rounds. There, they run their robot against the clock, seeing how many missions they can accomplish in their allotted two minutes. They can only touch their robot when it is in base – the rest has to be done through programming, sensors and a solid mechanical design. It is great fun to see the IMG_9530creative ways the kids dream up to achieve their missions, and often it is the younger, uninhibited teams who come up with the most unique solutions.

Recently we judged at the State Tournament. There it was the cream of the crop – the teams who had won their regional competitions and earned a spot in this final round. It was there that we learned a fascinating fact. We knew that Minnesota was one of the leading states in generating Lego League teams – in fact, there are more Lego League teams per capita in Minnesota than in any other state. And in many schools it has become a varsity sport. But the curious fact that drove it home dramatically was this – there are more varsity Lego League teams in the state of Minnesota than there are boys’ varsity hockey teams! I love it – the mind game has won out over slapshots and forechecking. Way to go Lego robotics teams!

Let the race season begin!

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It’s February, and that means race month on our calendar. Each weekend we have a race or ski event scheduled, all leading up to the biggie… the American Birkebeiner. This year our son, Erik, is also joining us. After a 4 year hiatus following his high school Nordic ski team days while attending a college in non-snow territory, he has eagerly returned to the ski trails.

Today we successfully kicked off the race season. The City of Lakes Loppet in Minneapolis was the venue, and the recent cold snap and fresh snowfall made it possible at the last minute to run the races on the full course – hallelujah! The day dawned sunny and cold, just barely above zero, with moderate winds – all in all, a great day for a race.

Rich is a die-hard classic skier, and for this race Erik chose to go head-to-head with Rich in the 25k Classic race. Their race started earlier than mine, so they were off and skiing before I even got to the race venue for my skate race. Which would it be – age and experience, or youth and brawn?

I’m still pretty new to racing. I took up skate skiing about 5 years ago, and I’ve chosen that ski style for racing. I’m not as hard core as the guys, but my own sense of competitiveness comes out even I’m just racing against myself.

Betsy, Katie and Molly before the start

Heading out to the start line, it felt great to be out in the crisp air and the bright sunshine lent a sense of warmth. Suddenly, I was surrounded by Erik’s girlfriend Katie and her mom – they had stayed on after the classic race to see me off! What a thrill, to have my own support team – my spirits were boosted immediately.

Despite the lack of snow this winter, the race organizers did a phenomenal job of preparing a great racecourse. The trails were well covered and I would never have predicted we would have such good conditions – the snow was firm and not at all crusty. It was a slow snow due to the cold temperatures, but I was willing to trade some glide for a nice racecourse.

The start of the skate race

The race starts out on a golf course, and in the open areas we could see the trail looping head of us, lined with skiers trekking up and zooming down the hills. It wasn’t always comforting looking ahead to see the hills in store. Similar steep grades awaited us in the woods of the nature area, but the beauty of the trees helped distract us from the extra effort required. Once we reached the lakes – for which the City of Lakes in known – it was all flat. Soon we were whizzing around the perimeters near the shore making great time.

Molly and Erik at the finish

This year the finish line moved to a new location, and brought a whole new dimension to the race. We had always skied down a boulevard to the finish line, but this time it was moved to a city street – we skied one whole kilometer down the street then turned onto Hennepin Avenue in the midst a popular section of town. Just before the turn, my fan club reappeared! Katie, her mom and now Erik were there cheering me on with great enthusiasm and volume, carrying me through to the finish. They had stuck around in the cold just waiting for me to finally make my appearance. What a heartwarming ending!

And the results of the races? Youth triumphed as Erik rapidly outpaced Rich in the classic race. And I beat myself, bettering my previous time by 8 minutes.

We’re all psyched for the next race!

I let my husband drive the car

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In almost 30 years of marriage, my husband, Rich, and I have shared everything.  Contrary to the popular trend at the time, we merged our bank accounts, bought our houses together, enjoyed each others’ bonuses, and shared our cars.  We never had his and hers cars.  We each drove whichever car was convenient or best suited the task.  That includes the leaky Volkswagen Beetle he brought into our marriage.

So when we brought home a new car last week, the assumption was that the same rules would hold.  What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, right?  Well, sort of.  As it turns out, the new car has 1,000 miles on it already, and I’ve driven them all!  Rich has yet to sit in the driver’s seat.  (Okay, so I did take it on my ski trip last weekend – that contributed significantly to the miles.)

I rather like this new car – it’s zippy and a lot more fun to drive than that old minivan.  It has a manual transmission.  We’ve been without one for a few years, and I’m getting back into the groove again shifting gears.  I took it over to my daughter’s house, and the grandkids got to see “Grammy’s new car.”  I even picked the color – red.  It feels like mine.

But I’ve decided to let Rich drive it to work tomorrow.  I don’t want to press my luck.  We’ve done pretty well together for a long time, and I do hope to make our 30th anniversary in May.

Drive carefully, Rich.  I don’t want anything to happy to my new car!

 

Feeling the Love

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All birthdays are not equal.  This just happened to be an exceptional one!

I started the day with my youngest son, having bagels at Brueggers.  I’ve been going there with my kids since before they were in school, and love spending that early morning time together.  This time we went before he headed off to work.  How times have changed – it used to be me going to work.

The remainder of the morning was spent at Elm Creek skiing.  I had a great time skating around the track, not even minding the repetition of the small man-made loop of snow.  The sun even came out and warmed the air out of the frigid temperatures we’ve been experiencing.  That was pure me-time, doing what I love to do – working out and being outside.

I made it home just in time to change into some nice clothes and meet a dear friend for lunch at a lovely restaurant.  We had delicious light salads and warming cups of tea while we visited.  As usual, we talked and talked and talked.  There is nothing better, and it was a special treat in the middle of my special day.

That was followed by a haircut.  While it sounds mundane, I find it to be a pampering experience.  Having someone wash my hair, massage my head and trim my hair back into submission is something I always enjoy.IMG_0446

IMG_0449The finale was dinner with the family.  Per our tradition, I got to pick the menu, so it was my kind of meal – pesto linguini with scallops.  And my favorite birthday dessert, brownies with peppermint bonbon ice cream.  What’s not to like about that?  While not quite everyone could be there, we had a quorum and it was a fun and lively evening.  How could it be anything else when entertained by a 10 month old chasing a 15 year old dog and a 2 1/2 year old cuddling on my lap and helping me blow out the candles?

On the virtual side, I enjoyed emails, texts, Facebook posts and phone calls throughout the day from family and friends flung far and wide.  Yes, technology is a good thing.

I’m feeling very fortunate.  And loved.

Entering a new era

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For over 23 years we’ve driven a minivan. We’ve only had two in that time span, but they served us well, and were an integral part of our family life.

We succumbed to the trend shortly before our third child was born, and luxuriated in the spacious capacity of our new vehicle.  Shortly thereafter, we bought our cabin Up North, and the minivan was soon christened the “Northstar Navigator,” named for the lake where our cabin was situated.  As nature and outdoor lovers, we chose a cabin four hours north on a pristine lake surrounded mostly by forest land.  So we spent a great deal of quality family time together in the minivan going to and from our little haven.  That was before iPods and vans equipped with VCRs so conversation was encouraged.  Even singing.  As I sat up front, handing out sandwiches, coming up with entertainment ideas and mediating squabbles, I was queen of my brood.

It’s amazing what you can fit into a minivan.  As hard as I try to be abstemious about packing, the longer I’m at it, the more I find to bring.  And there was always room.  The minivan carried our gear to all sorts of destinations – camping equipment out to the Black Hills, canoe paraphernalia to the Boundary Waters, XC skis to the North Shore trails, accordions to competitions in Chicago, bikes just about everywhere.  In more recent years, it moved kids into college dorms, made numerous trips to the dump when we moved out of our home of 26 years, and hauled furniture to our new house in Duluth.

I loved the minivan’s seating capacity.  Even with a family of five, there was still room to bring Grandma and Grandpa along, or extra friends.  Cat and dog?  Sure, plenty of space.  That youngest child graduated from college last year, and we piled kids, grandkids and girlfriend in the minivan for the 10-hour journey to his graduation.  That was true togetherness!

But today we are moving on.  Now down to just the two of us, we decided to replace the minivan with a Subaru Outback and will soon donate our 13 year old minivan to a good cause.  The new vehicle’s all-wheel drive is great for Minnesota winters, and it has a decent capacity in the rear compartment.  There’s no doubt it was a practical choice.  But I’m going to miss the minivan.  Good thing my daughter and her husband bought one recently.  It’s my turn to jump in with the grandkids!

Non-Forced Relaxation

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Mellow is just not in my nature. I have pretty much one gear – Go Go Go. Particularly in the mornings. I like to get up and get going. An early morning run is my favorite, getting in a good workout before settling into the day. Even at the cabin, I require my run and a brisk swim before hanging out on the dock with my coffee and magazines. In winter, I chomp at the bit waiting for it to get light and warm up enough to go out skiing. Intellectually I know conditions will improve as the morning goes on, but my heart wants to rush out the door.

The holidays change all that. Having a house full of family brings its own pace and set of priorities. There is nothing like the dim light of morning, when the great room is lit by only the Christmas tree, the fireplace and a few strategic lights. It oozes quiet and relaxation. Little grandkids wake slowly, snuggling in my arms or someone else’s as they gradually come to life. Each member of the family rises on their own schedule, but tend not to sleep in as late as they once did. I set the coffee brewing in the corner and start making the first of many batches of pancakes and bacon.

Even once fed, pajama clad family members linger on the couches. Reading is a favorite pastime, as is playing with 2 1/2 year old Ben’s newest toys. Recounting moments from the previous evening’s games is a popular topic. Routines have all been left behind, and no one feels the urgency to move on. Not even me.

Skiing – A Christmas Eve Tradition

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First SkisI grew up in a family of downhill skiers. My parents spent their honeymoon skiing at the King’s Gateway in the UP. I learned to ski at the age of five, going up the hill between my dad’s legs as he rode the T-bar. Skiing was a family affair, rising early to drive to the ski hill, eating the lunch that Mom packed in the leather travel case, and skiing until the slopes closed. My best birthday present was the pair of Head skis my parents gave me – I felt like I’d reached the big league.

From an early age, I remember spending Christmas Eve skiing. All the excitement of Christmas seemed to crescendo, reaching its peak on that day. The anticipation of all the presents and the holiday made the day endless. We probably drove our parents crazy, snooping under the tree and getting under foot while they made the final preparations. So they instituted the tradition of going skiing. We’d ski all day and get home tired and happy, just in time for dinner and a hot bath.

In the early years, the whole family spent the day skiing. As we got older and my siblings got their driver’s licenses, they would drive us to the ski hill while Mom and Dad stayed home. I didn’t realize it then, but it must have been a welcome opportunity to prepare for Christmas undisturbed.

Brule trailsI’m still a skier, but I’ve long since traded downhill for cross-country skiing.  I love the quiet, the trails, the constant motion and the challenge of the uphills. So this Christmas Eve found me out in the woods instead of out on the slopes, but still skiing. It seemed so right. And just like in years past, it helped stem the tide of my anticipation. It’s not the presents under the tree that fuel my excitement these days, it’s the arrival of my IMG_9427 trimmedchildren and their children. The cooking and baking are nearly complete for the holiday meals, the house and tree are decorated, and the presents are all wrapped.  I’m ready to trade empty nesting for a house full of family, noise, and togetherness.  The new house will be overflowing, putting airbeds into use and slipping grandkids into small corners to sleep.  But that’s what memories are made of.  Bring it on – it’s Christmas Eve!

Singing The Messiah with Mabel

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I’ve always wanted to do a Messiah Sing.  It sounded like great fun – the audience and the performers are one and the same.  An orchestra is provided, and singers come together to sit in the auditorium and sing Handel’s Messiah from beginning to end.  So when I saw that St. Scholastica had a Messiah Sing, I decided I’d go.

I’d sung a number of pieces from The Messiah in my high school and college choirs, so I knew some of the sections would be very familiar to me.  In fact, I doubted I needed the music for “For Unto Us” and of course the “Hallelujah Chorus.”  Something that monumental sticks with you for life.  I knew there would be pieces of music I’d never seen before, but I was counting on my rusty sight reading skills and the more experienced singers around me to carry me through.  I recruited a friend to go with me, and I was ready for the challenge.

But I had another reason for going.  Back last summer when we were cleaning out Mom’s house, we went through all her old music.  I found a score for The Messiah that had belonged to her mother, Mabel, with her name hand written on the cover.  It felt like a treasure and I claimed it for my own, hoping for this very opportunity.

Mabel was a music teacher and the first music supervisor for the Iron River, Michigan public schools in the first quarter of the 1900s.  She was known for loving “show business” and the musicals she put on, both in the schools and in the community.  She also greatly enriched the music program to serve all students in the schools.  We found a tribute written about her for the town’s centennial celebration.  One phrase jumped out at me, “Surely no one belonging to the mixed chorus could ever forget rehearsing ‘The Hallelujah Chorus’ from Handel’s famous oratorio, ‘The Messiah.'”

The score sat on my bookshelf until last night.  So as we progressed through the music singing, I found Mabel’s notations for the first time.  It felt so deeply personal to see her markings for expression, for breathing, for dynamics.  I loved turning the brittle yellowed pages, knowing she had turned them, probably directing that school choir.  It made the evening special, bringing back my musical roots and reminding me of my own musical training starting from a young age.

I never knew my grandmother, Mabel.  She died when my mother was 16.  But she left behind a musical legacy that lived on through my mom and on down through me and my own children.  I am so very thankful to her for that.  And I look forward to next year, when I will again bring her score to sing The Messiah.