The next step

Nine years ago this week, my high school graduation day seemed like a momentous, the most momentous, ocassion. And, I guess, in a way, it was. We were leaving our high school cocoon of familiar faces and hallways. Some of us were even leaving the familiarity of our home state and town behind.

Little did we know, though, how many more life-altering experiences were in store. Or maybe that’s the point. High school is not the end. It’s the beginning.

But before I start sounding too much like a high school graduation speech, I better get to my point. My sister graduated from high school Tuesday. I couldn’t go to the ceremony. Too many miles and hours between us. When I spoke to her on the phone she sounded like she couldn’t decide whether to be excited or nervous. A teacher friend of mine echoed those sentiments in an e-mail this week. On their last day of school the seniors, while delighted to be graduating, were all a little bit terrified of what was to come.

That’s a loaded question to an 18 year old: What’s next? At that age you feel like your answer will be your destiny. Fortunately it’s not. How many of us, I wonder, are doing what they planned when they tossed that mortar board high in the air?

I am.

Sort of.

I always knew I’d be a writer. But, a reporter, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa? I couldn’t have predicted that. Nor would I have wanted to. That’s the fun of life. Not necessarily knowing what’s around the corner. Not being able to see how choosing path A) instead of path B) will change your life.

When I was 18, a senior in high school, I had narrowed down my choices of colleges to William and Mary in Virginia, Franklin and Marshall in Pennsylvania and Coe College here in Cedar Rapids. In the end, I chose Coe. Why is another post altogether. Point being, though, that I did. And my work at an editor of the college paper landed me an internship here, which in turn helped me get a job. While on an assignment for that job I met my husband and now we have a beautiful baby girl.

I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried. So, I guess buried in my ramblings is the one piece of advice I’d give to this year’s graduates. Don’t obsess about the big picture plan. Take life one step at a time. Do what feels right and see where it takes you.

- Carly

Free money

I’m sort of anal when it comes to our family finances. Actually, truthfully, I’m very anal (some might call it obsessed). I think it comes with the territory of living on a teacher and reporter’s salary and living the American Dream, which these days tends to mean lot o’ debt.

For the last couple of years we’ve slowly but surely been chipping away at that debt. Every time we pay something off I get a high (sick. I know). But it really is a rush to know that there’s now one more bill that we won’t be getting every month and therefore more money that can either a) go to other bills or b) go to fun things like dinner and a movie.

This is all the long way of saying that I get super excited when extra money comes our way, like in the form of this spring’s economic stimulus checks. Ever since the federal government announced that we’d all be getting a check in the mail (or in our case directly deposited to our checking account) I’ve been plotting how we were going to spend it. Of course my husband suggested a flat screen. But, poor him, he got shot down. Again. Instead, I mused, we could pay off so many other things. And that we did.

Last Friday when that lovely chunk of change materialized in our account, I was quick to start spending it. Anesthesiologist from our daughter’s birth. Check. Pediatrician bills. Check. A credit card balance. Check.

In all honesty I had more fun paying those bills than I would if we’d used the money the way the government intended and bought that flat screen. I was beginning to wonder if I was a little odd. But my conversations Wednesday with folks at the Noelridge Farmer’s Market confirmed that we were not at all out of the ordinary in how we spent the government’s money. Nearly everyone I talked to was going to be practical. One couple will use the money as a down payment for a house, many will pay bills, one is going to add it to her savings. The only “fun” answers were from one woman who is going to build a deck and another who is taking her family on vacation to see her husband’s family.

One woman laughed when I asked her what she was going to do with the money. She had just gotten her check that very afternoon. So she called her husband to tell him she was headed to the farmer’s market to splurge on flowers.

The bulk of it though will pay of bills, she said.

- Carly

What a cool mom I am

No matter how many times we hear parenting experts tell us that it’s not our job to be our child’s best friend, as moms we still have this innate need to be “liked” by our kids.

We can’t help it.

Sure, our kids like us when they’re little. What do they know? We’re the ones who are there with the Band-Aids, ice cream cones and birthday presents. We let them help us decorate Christmas cookies, set the table and fold towels. We’re cool when the kids are under 5.

My fear was about when my kids were in middle school and high school — which is where they are now. Would I be the mom that my kids and their friends would joke with and talk to, or the one they all just kind of stayed away from and ignored?

My first inkling that my kids might like me came when I started noticing some of my CDs missing, and not just any CDs. What I was missing were my Eagles, Journey, AC/DC (I know — you’d never guess) and Collective Soul. When I asked my son about them, he sheepishly looked at me and said, “I’ve got them. Those are pretty cool.”

Score one for the mom.

Once I realized Justin really liked Journey, I decided to go for bonus points: “You know,” I said to him, “I saw Journey in concert back in 1982, and I think I still have the t-shirt.”

The reaction in his eyes told me I’d gotten more points, so I went in for the win: “Do you want it?”

Bam.

Of course, the shirt is 25 years old and didn’t fit my son — who is four inches taller than I am now — but he’s got it pinned up on his wall, his own little tribute.

Winning my daughter over was much easier. I got her a prepaid cell phone for Christmas to teach her how to monitor minute usage, and let her wear a little bit of makeup to school. (Of course my idea of “a little bit” differs greatly from her’s — we’re still working on that one.

The best evidence that I have a good relationship with my kids comes on those nights when I walk in the door and they both rush to tell me about the funny things that happened to them — rather than the “I need xxx for school” — or want to share a funny video, a favorite YouTube entry or just want to sit and watch a movie with me. Even better, when we can kid around and know it’s all in fun.

I think it’s safe to say I made it to “Cool Mom” status.

- Molly

Sehr Gut (very good)

This post kicks off what usually turns out to be an On The Street summertime trend — food. Nearly every summer event involves or revolves around food. There’s St. Jude’s corn festival, Blairstown and Lisbon’s Sauerkraut Days, Atkins and Fayette’s Watermelon Days, Solon Beef Days, Walker’s Pickle Days, Strawberry Fest in Strawberry Point and St. Ludmilla’s Kolach Festival. Not to mention the picnics at Jazz Under the Stars, Marion By Moonlight and Friday night movies in Iowa City.

I learned early on in this gig, to bring cash to these events, or something to nibble. It’s that or leave with a grumbling tummy.

In the case of the Amana Colonies Maifest, I just made sure to eat a big breakfast so I wasn’t starving. It would have been hard to ask people about their favorite German food without salivating otherwise.

Or maybe not. When I really think about it, I’m not so sure that I’m a big fan of German food. Shh. Don’t tell my grandma. My maiden name is Bossert, German for “the burner” (apparently way back when my ancestors got a kick out of burning and pillaging villages). And my dad’s side of the family took a lot a pride in their German heritage. But, not the extent that we ate a lot of German food. To be honest, I can’t really name many German dishes. All that comes to mind right now are brats and sauerkraut. And I can tell you I’m not a big fan of either.

A quick Google search reveals that there is more to the country’s dinner plate than just those two items though. And turns out I like a lot of them. According to a Web site called Travels through Germany foods that I think of as American got their start in Germany. Deviled eggs for example. I LOVE deviled eggs (it’s an odd exception to my anti-mayonnaise stance). Apparently hamburgers and meatloaf have Germanic roots. Then there’s potato pancakes, German chocolate cake, soft pretzels …

OK. I better stop. My stomach is starting to growl.

- Carly

It IS easy being green

I haven’t always been green, and by some people’s standards I’m still not quite there. But I do try, and I am, thankfully, encouraged by both my kids to try a little harder. (It’s always easier when the kids are already on board and I’m not trying to change my habits as well as theirs.)

My first real attempt at going green came before the catch phrase “going green” had even been developed. I was still a young reporter in Fort Dodge working on what would become one in a series of four-part series’ on recycling. It was the early 1990s and Iowa had recently enacted legislation mandating that county landfills decrease their intake a certain amount each year, meeting an ultimate goal of 50 percent fewer materials being taken to the landfills by the year 2000. Recycling was a major part of that reduction, and much education had to take place.

In order to fully understand what I was writing my family started recycling. Of course, this was back in the days when all that could be recycled was newsprint and things on white paper – advertising slicks were not acceptable – corrugated cardboard, some plastics and clear glass.

As the years went on more and more people started talking about topics that were hitting close to home: global warming; greenhouse effect; carbon footprints.

Then something happened. I started paying closer attention to the electricity I was using, the temperature on the thermostat, the types of materials I was buying. As the guidelines for recyclables expanded, so did the contents of my recycling bin. Now we recycle more than we throw away.

Are we perfect yet? Not by a long shot. I still use the old-fashioned lightbulbs, I still turn the furnace up a little if I get too chilly and every now and then I find myself buying something that comes in a Styrofoam container. But the kids are turning out the lights, shutting down the computer and turning the water off while they’re brushing their teeth.

I’d say we’re off to a really good start.

– Molly