what, you didn't make it?

I remember walking up to the door to the girls' gym at Cameron County High School more than once, looking at the list of the girls who made it for cheerleading or basketball. My name never made those lists. I remember being pretty devastated a few times. It was hard to see my friends' names on the lists. It wasn't fun to see their names missing, like mine, either. I don't really know how close I was to being on those lists, but it was an experience that prepared me for other experiences in life, as well as helping me appreciate those lists that I did make.

Probably most parents encourage their kids to try new things--stick their necks out every once in a while. Either we think our kids are capable of things they can or cannot do, or we hope that someone can see their potential. It's a fine line, deciding when to tell your kids it's a good idea or a bad idea. I guess more often than not, it's great to let your kids try something, even though you may have no idea what their chances of success may be.

Over the past three weeks or so, I have once again felt like that kid, preparing myself for that walk through the front doors of the school, across the lobby, past the library and at the door to the locker room. This time, no one else was around to see the reaction on my face. No one was standing there, high-fiving a friend or two, or complaining about who made it over her. It was just me, at my computer this morning, realizing that we didn't get the votes we needed to get into that top twenty.

As much as I would have loved winning the contest, it has been obvious for a few days, maybe a week, that we probably couldn't make it into the top twenty. But my friends, and especially my sister, Joyce, never gave up, atleast on the outside. I had people voting for me from all over the globe. I got hourly messages of encouragement. New members joined my Facebook "fan club" every day, and the club grew to over 500 members. I am sure people didn't always love getting the daily voting reminders, but they kept on voting.

We might have had a chance to pull ourselves into the top twenty. Several of my friends mentioned that there are programs that help you to vote hundreds of times for yourself, without being caught. I know they were trying to help, but that just wasn't the way to win this. Realistically, I think the contest was designed more for publicity than for finding the next blogger extraordinaire. I'm not saying they are looking for a bad writer. But the vote getting probably gave me an advantage over plenty of writers more experienced and better than I.

Entering this contest taught me a few things. I have a lot of friends out there, who will support me, even when maybe I have no chance to win. I have a sister who is cleverer and more internet savvy than I'll ever be. People I've never met might just be willing to spend plenty of time, trying to get me more votes. There are a lot of really nice people out there, and while the internet might feel like a network of heartless machines, on the other side of those screens are millions of people who really, really care!

My name won't be on the list this time. I doubt that I'll enter this kind of contest again, but I know that I will vote for friends, and friends of their friends, in their pursuits for contest victories! Just this week, my internet friends and I were voting to get our high school's game televised, and we won! I was part of a winning team, and supported the boys who have played so hard this season for my alma mater.

What I will do now is write. I learned that I absolutely love writing. If I can find people who want to read what I've written, perfect! If not, I have found an easy way to keep myself in a good mood, and though I could have been blogging all along, I've started a habit well worth keeping!

you look like your mom

I always think it's funny when I hear this conversation:

"Wow, your hair is really long."

"Thanks."

Does that sound like a compliment? I would say that is a pretty big assumption. Saying someone's hair is long might not mean something positive. I'm sure we've all seen beautiful, long hair. But I have definitely seen my share of long hair that is unhealthy and unflattering, clogging up drains, and swinging around into people's faces. That's my opinion, but I am guessing other people might just feel the same way.

The same goes for people who tell you that you look like someone. I have caught myself telling little girls that they look like their dads, only to get a frown. Little girls, more often than not, want to look like big girls, not big boys. I am happy to tell a mom her son looks just like her, but tell the boy--no way! I have always been conscious of my nose. It's not a bad nose, really, just bigger than average. I spent so much time as a teenage girl, wishing my nose would just shrink a little bit. I envied those girls with cute little noses. I don't know where this nose came from, exactly, but I'm guessing my kids would not welcome the observation: "Your nose is just like your mother's." I would hope they wouldn't think about rhinoplasty or anything, but they'd be less than thrilled to say the least.

When I was visiting my family in Pennsylvania a few months ago, my uncle said I looked like my Mom. I've heard so many times that I look like my dad's side of the family--a Caldwell. I'm lucky to look like a Caldwell. My dad is one of the most handsome men I've seen. But there has always been a part of me, a big part, that wanted to look like my Mom. I have blond hair and blue eyes, and she had brown hair and brown eyes. She had the kindest and most beautiful face I think I've ever seen. Her beauty came from inside, too, but she really was the most classically beautiful woman I've ever known. so when my Uncle Ben said I looked like my mom, my heart leapt with joy. Maybe I was looking particularly angelic because I was standing in front of the church. Maybe I made a face like she would have made, or maybe the sweater and dress I had on reminded him of something she'd worn. Whatever it was, I'm sure he had no idea how thrilled I would be to think that even though we haven't seen Mom since she died almost two years ago, I was here, reminding someone of her!

This post is self indulgent, but it felt great to write about Mom. I miss her so much, and it was wonderful to think about her while I write what is becoming my daily blog. I know it's probably pretty normal to adore your mother, but I'll never stop thinking about the wonderful person she was. And I'm just tickled that someone would actually think that even just a little bit of me is like she was!

We didn't get booed this year

Halloween came and went. I hid the bags of candy and set the pumpkins on our front steps weeks ahead of the big day. We lit our strings of purple and orange lights and set out the fake tombstones. I dangled the spooky bones over our front porch to "scare" trick or treaters as they approached our house.

Our neighbors did the best decorating job in the neighborhood, complete with boarded up windows, a fog machine, a fake police tape and a chainsaw criminal and a bloodied victim. It was not exactly scary, because Terri and Jeff are just to nice to scare anyone, and their kids are young enough to remind them that Halloween is about fun. But it was very, very cool, and I'm sure our street had extra visitors that night just to see the best haunted house around. I hope they do that every year.

Halloween was different for us this year. My son got an awesome ape costume that I'm sure we'll be lending out constantly. My kids went to parties and watched scary movies. They raided the candy I'd hidden, but this was the first year I had no trick or treaters of my own. No raiding THEIR candy after they went off to bed. No Ziploc bags of Halloween candy for weeks and months to come. No bartering when they got back home or counting the amount of candy in their stashes. No comparing which houses and neighborhoods had the best stuff. Just a few leftover pieces of candy and a dirty ape costume.

Probably one of the things I miss most about Halloween for us is the "boo bags" that we don't get anymore. I remember sneaking up to neighbors' houses and wondering if they would realize it was the Auslanders that left them with a basket full of candy, fake witch fingertips, or Halloween pencils. I loved seeing my kids' faces when they realized someone had left us with a plate of cookies or the pre-Halloween candy they could split up and sneak into their bag lunches the next day.

As I drive down my street each day at this time of year, I notice houses with the tell tale cut out ghosts in their windows. I am sad that my kids are past that stage and even though it was a chore to run out and put those boo baskets together, I miss the excitement younger children share with us when it comes to special holiday traditions. Being in Europe for five of our Halloweens made us long even more for things that only happen in America on a particularly American holiday. Sometimes you really don't miss things until you don't have them anymore.

Last night, Anna had the cookie cookbooks out. She is busy, planning our Christmas cookie list. Even though I didn't sew any Wizard of Oz costumes or buy any masks or even carve the pumpkins I bought, Halloween was here, and we were able to see all of the neighborhood kids, so proud of their alter egos for the night. And even though we didn't get booed, I know that my family loves its traditions, and we'll be baking cookies before long. I may be sad that some things have changed, but I'm very, very thankful that some have stayed wonderfully the same.

Crest or Colgate?

My mother and father in law spent a weekend with us recently. They are easy house guests. No big fuss about how clean the house is, what the sleeping arrangements are, or which card games we'll play or puzzles we'll work. I try to have a bit of extra food in the house, maybe a few of the things they like, but I don't stress about stocking the house specifically for them.

I noticed this time that they brought their own bar soap. They never mentioned to me that they aren't so much into liquid body washes--the only way we cleanse in this house anymore--but they must have remembered that we never have bar soap for them, and they are polite enough not to make a big deal about it. They just brought their own soap.

I started to realize that I take certain household products for granted, and I, at 45, have become very much set in my ways about these things. Don't get me wrong, I do love trying new things and I just love being at a hotel and checking out the luxury grooming products on offer. But for the day to day, I am definitely particular about some of my personal care items.

A few years ago, I told my kids to choose their own toothpastes, and I was shocked when one of my kids came back with a tube of CREST TOOTHPASTE. We are a Colgate family, always have been. I felt betrayed. How could she choose Crest? I was so tempted to have her switch back to Colgate . Instead, I waited for what seemed like years for that toothpaste to find its way to the bottom of the garbage can in her bathroom. To this day, I try my hardest to buy a nice variety of Colgate products for my kids to choose from when their toothpastes run out. I do offer for them to choose toothpastes now, but I always steer them to the Colgate section.

My husband and I have different favorite toilet papers. No clear reason why, but he likes Quilted Northern and I like Charmin. I mostly buy Quilted Northern for our bathroom, but I do sneak in the Charmin every once in a while. If he's away for a few days, I definitely bring out the Charmin, and pop it back into our closet when he returns. He doesn't ask for much, so when he mentioned his preference for toilet paper, I was more than happy to oblige. I'm not sure where I read it, but I was a little miffed when I saw that Quilted Northern rated higher than Charmin in a toilet paper poll somewhere. I never did tell Ed that one.

I could probably go on and on about the (boring) things that we as Auslanders choose to stock our cupboards and bathrooms at home. But I have laundry to do (Tide and Downy), and bathrooms to clean (Scrubbing Bubbles, of course). It was a busy weekend, with company and a slew of Halloween and Birthday parties and lacrosse games. I need to get things back to normal, but I did notice one other thing when Ed's parents were here this past weekend--they use Colgate toothpaste, too!