so how does an egg get scrambled?

Ever wonder what the first person who scrambled an egg was thinking? I mean think about it...they are holding an egg, probably getting ready to poach it or set for frying when while cracking the egg, the yolk gets broken and well they probably panicked. Maybe they thought they could use a fork to re-assemble the egg only to figure out that whipping it into a frenzy it would look like one big yolk. The rest is history. Omlets, souffles, mayonaise, fritattas, scramble eggs, and quiches are just the first things that come to mind.

On the human front, at least for me, it seems the same. Events took place to crack the shell, maybe not by choice but just the cards being dealt at the time. Somehow, the cracking of the shell caused the yolk break too.

First Crack:
My parents divorced when I was 8. It wasn't like we were sad to see it happen. My father was an extremely violent and honestly, evil man. He had a short fuse and would blow up for the smallest things. He beat my mom the entire time they were married. When that didn't seem to be enough, he beat my brother and occasionally he beat my sister. He never hit me -- not during this marriage. He saved that for later. My father, though, seemed shocked as all get out that my mom finally said enough. One thing I have learned about women in my life. We take a lot of crap, but when we finally say enough, there is no turning back. It took my mom 14 years, several police home visits, guns being held to her head, knives to her throat and the occasional dragging across the kitchen floor by her hair. When she said enough... it really was. Within a short period of time, my father was out. The twist is that I went with him. I was a kid. My father said he would kill himself if I didn't go. While I knew what he had done, he was still my father. I did not want him to die, not if I could stop it. So I went. I think that move, secured my place in the scrambled eggs hall of fame.

So, perhaps, like the the newbie who busted the yolk, my initial action was to get the yolk whole again. Not reconcile my parents, but to keep my father alive. When you're that young and the world is falling apart around you and you couple that with a manipulative person like my father using suicide to take you away, you do believe somehow you can fix it and if not, it is all your fault.

I would say that this was the first time the shell was really cracked and the yolk broken. Prior to this, the violence was all that I knew. While I knew it wasn't safe, I did not know it wasn't normal. It really was all I knew. I remember getting on my bike and riding to a neighbors house to call police to stop the fights. I was 6 years old. I also remember getting slapped silly for getting inbetween my father and my mom in one of his rages. As strange as it sounds, it was normal to me. Like clockwork, every friday night. They would go out, come back, fight, my siblings would hide and I would stupidly try to stop things.

Leaving my mom made me playdough for my father's manipulation and he was the master. I bet Fisher Price would have made big dough (pun intended) if they had someone like him dreaming up ways to form, design and mold playdough. I was with my father for 4 years. During the first two, I had no direct contact with my mom. He intercepted every call, letter and package. He used that time to tell me how cold and uncaring my mom was. By the end of the second year, I believed every word he said. This was 1975, courts did little to ensure parenting plans, child support, etc were enforced.

But again, like the newbie that broke the egg yolk the first time, I still kept trying to repair the yolk. Something deep down made me believe that what was right would overcome what was happening... and regrouping was possible. Boy was I dreaming.

more tomorrow

so much for daily

The last few days have been a blur. Getting kids back on routine, getting myself back on routine and for some reason just getting through the day these last few days have been a challenge. We are getting ready to downsize.
20 years ago, I was told by several friends while I was pregnant with my first child that the time will go by so fast. I thought they were nutts. Time, did not seem to fly by. Lynn , my firstborn was two weeks overdue, Ry, my second was content to stay in utero for life. I had three inductions and he was over three weeks late and then we lived with colic for 6months . By the time Steve showed up, I scheduled deliver and had them triple load me with pitosin. He arrived on schedule. I had help lined up and for the first time, I enjoyed the socks off the first few months of being a mom.
From there, the first few years where slow, very manual, almost like my own version of "Ground Hog day". But, suddenly, it feels like I hit the fast forward button on the VCR of life and I am coming very quickly to the end of volume one -- I just hope I get an intermission before I load in the next tape. Now, to be fair, I have one college age kid, one boy who is a senior this year and my youngest who just started in his sophmore year. So it is not like the house will be vacant tomorrow but for some reason it starting to feel that way. My step children have all moved out or are living with their mom so we have shrunk from the family of 8 to the family of 4.

I remember being out the door when I was 17. I couldn't wait. My oldest step daughter was completely packed up in both our home and her mom's home by 3:00p.m. on her 18th birthday. But somehow, I am not in any hurry for my children to move out and move on. Well, actually, my middle son could move out. He is a tough one to live with but I would still miss him. He moves in with his Father in October to finish his senior year.

I am officially entering transition -- and because I can't seem to do anything without intensity, I am transitioning careers, home, and into empty nester.

So, with that, I am cleaning out closets, donating stuffed animals and finding clothes shoved under beds and in drawers that haven't fit any of my kids in at least 5 years. Not sure what that says for my housekeeping. I love craigslist for this. Today I put in three ads -- I had 50 emails in my inbox within 5 minutes of hitting submit. I gave away my entire scrapbooking,cardmaking inventory -- it felt like the basement sales you can read or even watch on TV. Women were calling ever two minures, emails flying in, several scrappers raced up my driveway and they went clawing after stacks of card packs, ribbons hole punchers, glue guns and beads. I should have videoed it. Needless to say I was completely out of inventory within 1 hour of posting the ad. And I learned, never leave your home number in an ad -- or in your standard signature in your email. And more importantly, people that make scrapbooks and cards can pretty much kick my butt and probably just about anyone elses to get the goods.

I have a trampoline and a gas grill ad that is just about to go in. Let's see how the jumping grilling set match up to the scrappers.

talk to you soon

let's set expectations

For those of us that have mastered scrambled eggs one learned requirement is to know what to expect going forward. It doesn't have to be precise, just a general framework.
So here goes:
1. I will cover ground that bounces from 20+ years ago to my current situation.
2. I will share personal challenges from failing at marriage #1 to raising teenagers and business challenges that encompass crazy work scenarios to walking away from corporate America to still trying to figure out what to do next.
3. I will not preach to you. I will just be honest, upfront, hopefully funny but always genuine
4. I will post as close to daily as life allows.
5. I will write in a way that celebrates life in the end and the fact that everyday we get to go on. My favorite poem is "go on, go on , go on, go on go on ,go on.
6. I will be completely truthful about events but not always about the names -- it wouldn't be fair without permission
7. last but not least, I will share every scrambled egg recipe I have mastered in my 45 years on the planet -- trust me, I have mastered scrambled eggs...however butter, quality butter is required.

I hope this proves to be for you all as it will be for me.

when the egg gets scrambled

Well -- this blog is not for those who look to live in regret or for those who have not ventured out yet.It is really for those of us that have lived a little, messed up a little, learned, hopefully, more than a little and in the end play the hand we are dealt.

When I was younger ( under 20), I had a dear friend tell me that there will be many events in that will happen in life that we will have little control over. Then again, there will be events where we make choices that later we will wish to rewind. In either case, since time travel is not available and life is too short to spend time regreting, we have a choice -- regret or go forward. My Mom has a great saying "there is a reason why God put your face in the front." And my dear friend, he said "Once the egg is scrambled, learn to make the best scrambled eggs."

This blog is to share with you how I learned to make scrambled eggs. I hope it provides some humor, insight and community to all of us that have lived a little, learned a lot and want to go on and go forward.