Do we recognize privilege when we have it?

Me and a couple friends

I had the "privilege" to attend a luncheon today where the featured speaker, Dr. Jeremy Suri, talked at length about successful leadership.  In the context of his speech, he talked about opportunity, which got me to thinking......

This is always a dangerous thing because at one point in the presentation he even talked about the importance of words and how they told a story.  The story had to be engaging enough to keep the audience (in this case, specifically me) focused and involved so they would not be thinking about other things.  So, with that being said, I really was paying attention.  I took a few notes to remind myself of what I wanted to ponder later, and then... I did!

First of all, I believe opportunity and privilege could be used interchangeably.  And I think many of us focus on these two words often in the context of what we DON'T have.  Perhaps will never have.  And therefore, we may end of feeling "less than", or as if we are missing something.  But I started thinking about it from a different angle.  Even different time frames, and I came up with a different viewpoint.

Where I am at in life right now, is very comfortable.  I am "privileged" in a number of ways.  I enjoy the full benefits of being employed (monthly paycheck, health insurance, holidays, etc).  I am privileged to have a husband who loves and respects me; I am privileged to be a parent to six children - all of whom enjoy good health and of whom I get to see fairly regularly.  I am privileged to be a "Mimi" to five grandkids I would not trade for all the gold in China (bad example based on recent stock market activity but you get my drift).  I have a beautiful home, a bad-ass car, the benefits of a post-graduate education, good friends, etc. etc. etc.  I really could go on and on.

The younger years!

So let's dial it back a few years.  When I was growing up my mother worked two jobs to ensure we had food on the table and a roof over our head.  My siblings and I all enjoyed good health and grew up "fighting" close.  We saw our grandma every week for as long as she was living and we all had bicycles, radios, Monopoly games and whatever other "age appropriate" toys were around at that point in time.

I will tell you that my life then and my life now look very different.  Some folks would say I was "under-privileged" growing up.  Our house was small, our clothes were few and we all got jobs by the time we were 15 to offset some of the expenses of growing up.  I am certain at the time I wanted more than I had.  But even then, I had so much more than a very large population. When I read about kids going hungry, homeless, suffering from terminal illness, I am reminded that I am and have been "privileged" my entire life.   I guess my point is sometimes we are so busy wishing we had more, we forget to be thankful for what we have.

Certainly not a life without loss (never promised), or challenges (have had my share of hard times)  but upon reflection, a life rich with privilege, and opportunity.

I don't know a lot but this much I know for sure.  Given the amount of blessings I have enjoyed over the years, it would certainly be my privilege to recognize opportunities where I can give back.

Please join me.

Until next time,
#justonemoreopportunitytocount

your pal,
Kari

Does it have to be such a struggle?

Apparently the answer is yes.  I have been following a daily devotional lately by Pastor Phil Ressler and we are studying the Book of James.  On one of the days, Pastor Phil was discussing life's purpose and a particular line resonated with me.  "No matter what, life will be a struggle.  Will you choose the right struggle?"

There is so much truth in those two small sentences.  At what age did life become such hard work?  I would not say that this "work" cannot be rewarding, but it certainly presents a diverse basket of challenges on any given day.  Long before adulthood arrives (and I mean REAL ADULTHOOD - not to be confused with the legal age to vote), the days become littered with decisions to make, different paths to go down, choices that seem small at the time; all of which can impact outcomes. Not only at the end of that given day, but the domino effect of day over day.  And that's if we make the RIGHT choice.

How many times have you heard "I am really struggling with this" or "I am really struggling today" over the course of your life?  And truly, the meaning could be as fleeting in meaning as "I didn't get enough sleep last night" to "I miss my (son, husband, brother) so much.  Struggles are as physically limiting as they can be emotionally crippling.  I have seen people struggle with their spending habits, their eating habits, their smoking habits and their life choices.  Each one can have a strangle hold on desired outcomes.

And for every struggle I have witnessed, at one point in my life, surely I have experienced a struggle somewhat similar or identical.  Because like Pastor Ressler reminded me today, "No matter what, life will be a struggle."  I wonder why we thought it would be anything but?

Anything worth having is worth working (struggling) for.  None of us are any better than anyone else so we certainly are not immune to the challenges life has to offer.  And yes, some struggles seem easier to get through (though not always at that moment in time).  Many struggles are life lessons and we only need to go through them once (if we learn anything at all!!).  And then there are those struggles that we simply never get over, we simply just "get on with".

So how do we choose the right struggle?  It sounds relatively simple but that in itself is deceiving.  Should we think "big picture" before we decide what we want to resist each day?  Is it as easy as "not sweating the small stuff"?

For all those days I struggled with not being able to wake up; to not being able to fall asleep, for not being able to start something; to not being able to finish something, for desperately trying to understand and then not wanting to understand at all, I shake my head in wonder.  Is life really a game of tug of war of which we play both ends of the rope?

I believe we all "struggle" with something daily.  Sometimes serious, many times not, but this much I know for sure and am eternally thankful for.  At the end of the day, I never struggle with my salvation.  This has been bought and paid for.  And for that I give thanks.

Until next time,
#nostruggleinHisGrace

your pal,
Kari

How Am I Doing? So Glad You Asked!

Go ahead, ask me how I am doing?  I am not the type who wears my "heart on my sleeve", or carries a "chip on my shoulder" but I will take a quick look at my wrist and give you the 411 on what's going on with me!

Let me digress a little.  Although it seems like yesterday, apparently it was on May 17, 2012 when I could first access my information on the IPhone (although I believe I had my first Fitbit for about a year by then).  As you are aware (because of my OCD nature), I am a counter my nature and was counting steps long before it became popular or there were even gadgets available for such frivolity.  I did go from "counting in my head" to the little pedometers we would get every year at the health fair.  I like to have proof of my accomplishments.

Talk to me!!!

So here we are 4+ years later, and I am now the proud owner of a Charge HR!  Believe me, the Fitbit (or Karibit as I call mine) has come a long way since the beginning of its inception.  There have been times when I could have been their best sales person (it would be appropriate at this time to comment if you bought - or received as a gift - your first Fitbit because of my finesse in this skill set).  DON'T WAIT FOR ME TO CALL YOU OUT.  It would take an entire paragraph (but could show up next week, if I don't see your names)

What CAN'T this little gem tell you?  First, we start with the time of day (say goodbye - Mr. Watch). Following a quick time check - and this is necessary because you can't expect to get 10,000 steps in a day by getting a late start,  the Karibit reveals just how many steps I am at- REAL TIME.  So, for example, at 4:46 pm on Tuesday, I was at 7,240 steps.  Not too shabby.....  Since I was sitting down when I did this check, my heart rate was at 64 beats per minute.  THAT'S RIGHT (hence the name CHARGE HR).  Next up was how many miles I had walked that day.  I came in just under 3 miles at 2.92 but let's face it, the day was young.  I had successfully burned off 1,221 calories from this frenzy of activity called my life (again, wasn't even bedtime yet) AND I had climbed 9 sets of stairs.

Now what is important to note here is this.  I have a dream!  My dream is that one day, I will walk 10,000 PLUS steps EVERY DAY.  I will climb no less than 12 flights of stairs on a daily basis and that I will be able to do this without my heart rate escalating to triple digits out of control.  I will walk 5 miles every day and my waist line will boast of this accomplishment.  And I won't wake up from this dream until it happens.  (Speaking of sleep...)

But wait, there's more.  This little beauty syncs with my IPhone and tells me SO MUCH MORE!!! Go ahead, ask me how I slept last night?  Why, very well, thanks for asking.  While I woke up one time and was restless 10 times, it appears I met my goal (8 hours) by getting a total of 8 hours and 28 minutes of sleep.  I LOVE THIS THING!!!!

I don't know a lot of things but this much I know for sure.   I know when I ask my sister Katy, how she is doing, and she looks at her wrist and tells me - it's time for me to upgrade my Fitbit.  At this time, I would like to thank Katy, Amazon Prime, and my husband who supports my addition to counting.

And I do know one more thing, if you call me, my little Karibit will be buzzing my arm and when I look, it will tell me YOU are on the PHONE.  I KID YOU NOT!!

Until next time,
#sogladheisnotcounting
#callme
your pal,
Karibit
ummm, Kari

My cake is on fire!

Tear it up?  Really?

My little grand girl, Averie, had her first birthday on Sunday.  A year has gone by already and as we all know, that first year is filled with...well, many firsts.  And once a "first" happens, it can never be repeated as a first, but can only be refined.

As the only grand girl, Averie has had her fair share of attention.  She has two older adoring (and adorable) brothers, many aunts ready to buy dresses after a season of boys that started 14 years ago (not that there is anything wrong with that), not to mention Mimi and Grandma's.

I started thinking about Averie's big day from her perspective and wondered what her impression must be.  Imagine for a minute, you are again, a small child.  Much beloved and taken care of and you wake up, just like any other day......

For me?

It's a regular day except today when my mom picked me up, she said, "It's the Birthday Girl".  Is she talking to me?  Hmmph.  Every time someone sees me, they say "here comes the "Birthday Girl".  I was just getting used to being called Honey Pie or Averie.  Now I am quite certain I am the Birthday girl.  This makes everyone else smile when they say it.  I am smiling now, too.

It seems we are having a lot of extra people in our house today.  I know many of them but some of them I have only seen in pictures.  And quite frankly, some of them I don't know at all.  But all of them are bringing in bags and boxes that look like they might be fun to play with.  And everyone is friendly so it's all good.  When I start to scoot over to see the boxes, they quickly are moved out of my way.

Yay, kids that I have seen before are here that are almost the same size as me.  Well, when they sit down, we are all the same size.  I am going over to sit with them.  Mom is bringing over those colorful boxes now and letting me tear the paper.  THIS NEVER HAPPENS.   Fun toys are in the boxes but  apparently I can only look at them, because once the box is open, it's time to move them out of my reach and start on another box for me to tear.  This happens many times.  Every time I tear the paper, people clap and smile.  WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?  This is not the reception I usually get when I am tearing things up.  I like being the Birthday Girl.

Looks like fun...

Soon we have tore up all the packages and there are new things to look at all over the floor.  All the paper has been picked up and the fun boxes are gone.  Some of the big people are playing with my new toys.  Are they for everyone?  As I start to reach for one....

I am scooped up and taken to my high chair.  Wait, what's happening?  Who turned out the lights?  Who picked me up?  I already had lunch but someone has now buckled me into my high chair.  In the dark.  Wait, I smell something.  Is that smoke?  I see lights...oh my gosh. What is going on?  My mom has just taken a perfectly good cake and lit it on FIRE!  FIRE!!!  Why is everyone surrounding me?  All these people in the dark, chanting something about a Happy Birthday.  HELP.  Is  that my MOM coming at me with that cake on FIRE?  What kind of sick, twisted ritual is going on around here?  Oh no, I'M THE BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!

None for me, thanks.

Then we wonder why she knocked that serving of cake across the room when it was served to her. Seriously, the "party" was over for her.  My daughter told me she was fussy and ready for nap but I knew the real reason.  She wanted out of that room because, knowing she was the BIRTHDAY GIRL, she wasn't confident that she wasn't next.

And now after all these years, I understand why, whenever someone sings Happy Birthday to me, I find myself fighting back tears.  I always thought I was just being silly.

Until next time,
#repressedmemoriessurface,

Your pal, Kari

What do YOU do when you have a lost tooth?

It seems to be a reoccurring theme at my house.  I don't know if my daughter plans it this way, but one or the other of my grandsons always seems to arrive with at least one loose tooth when they come to visit.  And I don't just mean for extended stays.  This could even be for an overnight.  Who do I look like?  The Tooth Fairy (don't answer that).

Early on, I acquired the reputation for the official tooth puller (when one needed a little coaxing in coming out.  I just seem to have the gift to get kids to open their mouth so I can just "wiggle" it ...just a little and SNAP - it is out of their mouth before they realize what has happened.  No strings or slamming doors needed.  I magically open my palm and there it lays, in all its bloody glory.  Every once in a while I will hear, "You said you weren't going to pull it", to which I will answer, "It was so loose, it just fell into my hand".  Case closed.

Partner in crime

So, it was no surprise to me when Nathan (11) told me as he was visiting this summer, he had not one but TWO loose teeth.  I asked him if he needed me to look at either of them to which he assured me that no, he was good.  (He is wise to my ways).  It was the last night he and Ethan were staying when he came down triumphantly to my room, tooth in hand.  I think the tooth fairy must pay more at my house because this always seems to happen.

Naturally, I did what any normal, grandma (or in my case, Mimi) would do.  I said, "Nathan, quick, give me that tooth".  He was not so quick to hand over the prize.  I assured him I needed it for just a short while and that it would be "funny".  The look he gave me as he handed it over did not spell confidence but nevertheless, I had what I wanted.  Madi quickly went and made popcorn and we set the stage.

Soon Terry came in the room and I began eating popcorn, gave a loud cry of dismay, followed by a cough into my hand.  Terry came over and now I opened my palm, and there was the "tooth".  If academy awards were being handed out that night for impromptu performances, I assure you, I was a shoo-in.  As I bitterly "wept" and Terry tried to comfort me, Madi started laughing.  He was appalled.  He had his hands full -comforting me and then shockingly, he had to deal with an unsympathetic teen.  He said,  "Madi, this is not funny".  Which caused Nathan to start laughing.  So now, with my head buried in his side, shoulders shaking in what he thought were waves of agony (in fact, laughing so hard I almost was crying) he was mouthing all kinds of messages to both of them, which will not be repeated here (family audience and all).  Finally, I pulled away and handed Nathan back his tooth.

Terry was so confused.  It was the best joke ever.  Of course, then Mr. French didn't think it was as funny as we did.

I know not everyone appreciates my sense of humor, but this much I know for sure, I kept myself awake longer than usual that night because I couldn't stop laughing.

And I slept better than I had in a long time.

Until next time,
#laughteristhebestmedicine

your pal,
Kari

Addressing my Aging System

Lately at work, we have been having a series of meetings regarding our Information Technology Management Program (ITMP) program and process. For those of you who don't know all the acronyms - let's just put it in 101 terms...all things computers, processes, systems, storage, etc.

I was in a VERY long meeting covering this topic when I looked at a particular slide and refocused in an entirely different perspective.  Our Chief Information Officer was laying out the five priorities in our Risk-based Approach to upgrading/saving our current ancient computer system (can you say Mainframe) when I realized that what he had really handed me was a recipe for life.

Whose system are we talking about?

Let's take a look at Item number one.  Production System Outage & Support.  Isn't that just another way of saying - What resources (faith, time, insurance, money, energy, life support) will we need to be able to call on at any given moment on that day, without notice, when we suffer an irreplaceable loss; a significant health event; any unplanned life event.  A wild card day - if you will.

Item two:  Address aging system with stability and reliability issues - hello???  I believe I am in that phase right now.  First the thyroid (and it REALLY is), now a torn rotator cuff!  What the heck?  I can hardly move without some reliability issue coming into question.  And let's not forget - Item one can crop up at any given time (even while dealing with Item Two)

Next comes security vulnerabilities and related items.  Life is a vulnerable state and once the "mainframe" of the body has been breached, a plethora of problems can spread like virtual wildfire.

While the terminology in Item 4 doesn't really apply - replace it with Mandated medical or dietary changes and/or doctor recommended lifestyle accommodations and the next thing you know, dessert now means "fruit cup" and the only candy you get is nature's candy...i.e. "raisins".  Hmmmph.

Finally, we are left with Item 5 which in this scenario would be the optional process improvements - think cosmetic improvements at this point.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Why would one spend another dollar on any type of surgical misery to make anything look better???  WE ARE IN SURVIVAL MODE HERE!!!!!

Yesterday I had to have some blood taken and after the first attempt failed (yes, that does mean pass me your other arm, please) the plebotomist advised me that they needed to use the "butterfly" approach.  Apparently, this is a technique rarely used on adults (I translated that to mean-reserved for small children),  She further explained that I was "delicate"!  HA!!!  I knew it.  I have been telling my husband that for years,  I asked her if she could please document her findings,  Sometimes it is good to have things in writing.

As our meetings at work conclude, we have determined we must take care of our aging infrastructure to ensure the integrity of our system going forward.  All business processes-while nice to have, are meaningless without a solid foundation.

So, in translation, I guess none of my surgeons will be plastic or cosmetic in nature (at this stage of the game).

Until next time,
#stabilitymuchneededhere

your pal,

Kari (your delicate flower)

Is this a mid-life car-isis?

They say you never forget your first love, and forgive me, Terry if I digress for a moment.  We first met in those tender teenage years when I was around 16 and some months.  Getting ready for my junior year in high school.  My step-dad, Jim introduced us.  I would even go so far to say he made it possible for us to get together.

Once he caught my eye it was all over.  He went by Marvin and what a looker he was.  A 1966 sunny yellow Ford Mustang (3-speed standard shift).  I had only been a legally licensed driver for a few months and had learned on an automatic, but I could not be swayed.  This was the car for me.  Jim paid the $600 cash and I set out on a payment plan and a life long love of mustangs!

It didn't take me long to master the gears (although hills were a source of worry for quite some time to come).  With its sporty look and quick demeanor, he soon became a favorite of the family.  I usually sang "Marvin the Mustang, do we love you" to a popular commercial jingle whether driving solo to work. or taking my siblings or friends on outings to movies or shopping.

Soon my brother had his license and with a look that could only be described as longing, indicated his desire to master the standard gears and take Marvin for a spin.  Thus began my long and illustrious part-time (unpaid) career as driver's education teacher.  Attempts were later made to teach Katy.  She was my only "less than success" story.

Fast forward many years later when the original Marvin was just a fond memory.  A red Mustang made an appearance in my life for several years - and yes, he was named Marvin the Mustang II. Then came a laundry list of adult-looking cars and even one van (soccer mom years) as I played the part of "I have children at home, am willing to car-pool, can drive your child also" mom.

But....if you read my blog last week, you know what happened.  I became the mother of ALL ADULT CHILDREN.  It was then that I realized one of two things could happen.

My car-isis

Choice One:  Enter a respectable period of mourning.  Face the fact that my youthful years are gone.  The kids no longer need me.  I will be relegated to the "old ladies" section in just about every place I can come up with.  Just call me Grandma.  (Wait, I am Grandma - well, Mimi as the kids call me and that is definitely NOT a bad thing).

Choice Two:  Face the fact that all my kids are adults. (allegedly).  Realize it is no longer necessary for me to be bound by those chains that tied me to the adult looking cars (yes, even one van) and say to the world, "MARVIN,  COME TO MAMA!!!!!!!"

Guess which choice I made?  More importantly - guess how long it took me to make it?

So, while I am not quite sure how this will all work out, this much I know for sure.  It's a tight squeeze in the back for old ladies, so if you want to go somewhere with me, CALL SHOTGUN or meet me there.

Giddy-up!

Marvin's BACK!!!

until next time,
#startyourengineplease

your pal,
Kari