Author: Allie P.

Every journey begins with a little risk

by Allie P., posted in Book Stuff and Publishing News, Indie book promotion, Life as I know it

Witch head nebula
Even the universe has its Halloween decorations up. [The witch head nebula]
Residents on the East Coast of the United States were informed that a privately owned supply rocket would be launching off the coast of Virginia just after sunset on Monday and it might be visible several states over as it ascended.

Although I have gone down a completely different career path, at one point I had dreamed of being an astronaut. The vastness of space continues to fascinate me. Therefore I was more than a little excited when I read about this event.

I set a reminder, and at launch time herded the family outside so that we could all stare towards the horizon. The hubby and I thought we saw something pass across the sky. Our eldest tried to follow where we pointed but saw nothing. The rocket was only expected to be visible for three minutes. Our son’s lip began to quiver as we told him that he’d probably missed it.

Eager to avert kiddo’s breakdown we ran inside and turned on the streaming footage, only to be confused to see a very large rocket still on the launch pad. The news broke that the launch was scrubbed. A civilian in a boat had gotten too close to the rocket. Like the Minnow in Gilligan’s Island, had the rocket launched as planned, the tiny ship would have been lost. What we had seen was only a high flying plane.

Terrible news for NASA, but awesome news for us. I told my son there would be a do over!

It was announced that the launch would take place the following day. Unfortunately Tuesday evening had significantly more cloud cover. It was highly unlikely we would see anything, but we tried anyway. Several minutes passed once again with my family out on the lawn looking at the sky.

Nothing.

Orbital Sciences Antares Launch
Not my favorite kind of firework

Back inside, I cued up NASA footage only to see the remnants of a large fire-ball. The voice over the footage announced that there had been a catastrophic accident. My son, who had already ‘missed’ one launch looked to me and asked, “what happened mom?”

I hate to age myself, but I remember being in school when the Challenger Space Shuttle blew up. I was almost exactly the same age as my son is now. We had been watching it live in class. All the teachers were excited because one of their own was a crewman. I remember not quite understanding that the footage I was watching was abnormal or tragic. My teacher hurried to turn off the television as they were forced to explain concepts we weren’t quite ready for.

Thankfully in this instance, the mission was unmanned, saving me from a more complicated conversation with my son. The only damage then when the rocket exploded was material, and he is well aware of the concept of stuff breaking. But the entire event serves as a reminder that there is always a risk of failure whenever you attempt to venture into the unknown, no matter how well you have planned and prepared. And yet, without those willing to take those risks, we would not be able to communicate with those on the other side of the world at the speed of light nor would we have infrared ear thermometers (which both my youngest and I are grateful for) or be able to sleep easy with memory foam.

“The thing that’s important is that we don’t overreact,” William Gerstenmaier, NASA’s associate administrator of human explorations and operations. “I don’t see this as a problem or a concern for us in the future. It’s just more awareness of what we’re trying to go do and it’s not easy.”

There is always the risk of failure in anything worth doing, but there is always an opportunity to learn, and that’s still a gain even if it isn’t necessarily the one you were aiming for.

15455863230_2a4fa47955_zToday marks my blog’s first anniversary. I began it as a way to help promote my first book, An Uncertain Faith. When I hit that publish button for the first time, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but to date it has been worth the risk. I’ve been able to connect with an extremely supportive community who have been willing to share their own pains and triumphs. I’ve also learned a lot about myself in the process.

Now I am taking another risk. I will be relaunching An Uncertain Faith in November under a different publishing label. As a result, my novel’s first edition will be unavailable for sale for a time. This was not an easy decision, I hate to risk the momentum I’ve been able to gain to date, but I found it to be a necessary one. But I have high hopes that this decision will prove to be  less catastrophic, and a more rewarding launch than the events of this week.

Always earned, never given

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

Always Earned Never GivenThis weekend, we traveled to Washington DC as my husband was participating once again in the Marine Corps Marathon. Last year it had been a challenge to entertain my boys on my own for those several hours. This year, my mom offered to join us. I gratefully accepted thinking, reinforcements have arrived!

The race finishes in Arlington National Cemetery at the Iwo Jima Monument. As participants complete the course, a Marine hands them a medal signifying that they are a finisher. Then the racers are funneled through a gated walkway out of the cemetery and into a street festival where they can celebrate.

A marathon takes several hours to complete, even if you are faster than the average runner.  By the time the hubby neared the final stretch, my boys had lost all interest in watching other people run by and had begun looking for other means to amuse themselves such as running off into crowds, my 5yo spearing his brother’s lunch with a stick before his brother could eat it, my 2yo kicking (and screaming at) the fence, or both becoming one with black street dirt. I had hoped to catch up with some old friends while we were in town, but now all I wanted to do was get the kids back to the home.

A couple approached us. They had recognized my sons from the evening before and wanted to know how everything was going. Oh dear, I thought to myself, my kid’s antics were gaining the attention of random passersby.

I received a text message from the hubby letting me know he was done and that he was “trying to get out.” I knew he was. I had been tracking his progress all morning with two smart phone apps. I wrote him back, “Try harder :).” I can be delightfully supportive sometimes.

We could have taken the Metro (subway) back to our hotel. But instead we chose to walk back to our hotel via the cemetery. As we made our way through the gates, I overheard a race official announce that spectators were not to enter the track and could not run those final yards in support of their racer. I guess some people had been even less patient to be reunited with their loved ones than my boys had been. He said, “we love you, and we are glad you are here, but you have not earned the right to enter the track.”

Even though I was not on the race course, I thought to myself, I beg to differ with you. I might not have run, but the last several hours had hardly been easy. Nor had been the several days of solo parenting leading up to this event that I experienced while the hubby was out training. I had my share of tears, exhaustion, and aching muscles. The only difference is I didn’t get a number on my shirt for my effort.

English: Section 31 at Arlington National Ceme...

The path descended down a hill. To our right were rows upon rows of tidy, uniform gravestones. Monuments towered ahead and to our left. It was an amazing view and put the last several hours back into needed perspective.

Marathon medals are advertised as always earned and never given. They are earned through hard work and sacrifice. But in this case, the marathon poster has it backwards. I might have sacrificed my mornings in support of my hubby, but we were surrounded by the evidence of those strangers who had given more for my family than I ever have. And now it falls on us to deserve that gift.

To that very nice couple at the fence, we made it home and are quite fine now. My boys should be back to their adorable selves shortly. To those that serve or have served, thank you!

 

The day the coffee pot went dry – a horror story

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
Anyone can hold the helm
While I agree with the message, this image creeps me out

It started out like any other day at my office. Staff trickled in and immediately made their way to the break room to pour that first cup of coffee. We have one of those on demand machines hooked up to the main water line. It is usually nice because no one has to wait for a new pot to brew. Then it happened. The machine broke.

We have a spare machine for just these sort of emergencies. It was immediately hooked up and brought on-line. Disaster should have been diverted, except, the back-up too soon proved to be out of service. It didn’t take long before my usually calm, collected, and professional colleagues devolved into crazed individuals as the news spread. No coffee. How could we possible conduct business! Our vice president joked that he was considering closing the whole office down for the day. At least I think he was joking.

I typically bring a large travel mug of my own from home as the machine’s settings, which we are not authorized to change (the machine could break after all), don’t match my personal tastes. It was easy then to shake my head in judgement at my co-worker’s melodrama as I sipped on deliciousness from my mug. That is, it was easy until another half hour passed without a plan C. Suddenly it was like I was starring in the plot of a post-apocalyptic story. In an office filled with the walking dead, I was one of the few fully awake. The sounds I heard as colleagues stumbled to their desks certainly were in line with the sounds zombies make on film.

I barricaded myself behind my desk like any good survivor should. I knew that any sign of perkiness or alertness would give away my status as a ‘have’ in a world of ‘have-nots.’ It would make me a target for immediate attack. Meanwhile the moans and groans outside my door grew louder. Just as it appeared the day would be lost entirely, a hero emerged.

That hero was our executive administrative assistant. She valiantly journeyed home only to return with her household coffee maker. The break room had already claimed two machines, but she was willingly to sacrifice her own for the greater good. Caffeine flowed freely once again. We were saved! Life in the office was able to return to normal. If some might start squirreling away a little instant, who can blame them. We all learned a little about ourselves (and the company we keep) that day.

There isn’t much of a moral to this story, other than crisis being one of life’s best/worst teachers.

 

Practice make permanent

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

A few years ago, my mom gave my eldest son a pair of training roller skates. My son is a fan of instant gratification. When he put the skates on and immediately lost his footing, he grew frustrated and lost interest in learning the new skill. The skates were placed on a shelf in our garage.

Ara hybrid on roller skates at Paphos Bird Park
Skating: So easy???

After some time passed. I would see the skates and ask him if he would be willing to try it again. To give my son credit, he would go along with my suggestion, but then would fall down and rapidly lose interest once again. Finally one day he seemed to get the hang of the process. Sort of. He was able to stay up on his feet, but instead of rolling from point A to point B he would pick up his foot and walk there. It rather defeated the purpose and was a little frustrating to watch.

My husband and I had the brilliant idea that I should strap on my own skates and show him how it is done. The house I had grown up in had been on a cul-de-sac, a round, closed no-through road, which didn’t see a ton of traffic. This gave the neighborhood kids a perfect place to go for any number of outdoor games and activities. At times, it was like our own personal skating rink. I might not have been good enough to compete in something like roller derby, but I was pretty confident on wheels throughout my childhood and teenage years. I ran to pull my skates out of our closet.

As I strapped my feet into my roller blades, it occurred to me that I hadn’t dusted off my skates in several years. My legs wobbled as I stood up. How in the world did I used to do this? The slight incline of my driveway was suddenly extremely intimidating. I heard my husband tell our son, “now look how mommy does it.” Can you say performance anxiety? All I needed was to fall down and crack my head open. We’d never get kiddo to try something new ever again.

I made it down the driveway through a combination of slaloming and walking on the grass. Graceful, I was not. I had wanted to teach my son my skate moves. Instead I taught him that grown-ups need practice sometimes too, even on skills we think we have long since mastered.

Practice Motivation DailyI do not write about topics like positive thinking because I am a Pollyanna, an eternal optimist. I do not see rainbows with every rainstorm. I succumb to pessimism now and then just like everyone else. But I have chosen to post uplifting thoughts because this is how I practice my own internal motivation.

I am reminded of the advice: do not practice until you get it right, practice until you can’t get it wrong. Self-motivation is one skill I may never master, and I am okay with that, but everyday is an opportunity to practice.

 

How to create a dinner of champions

by Allie P., posted in General Tips and Tricks, Life as I know it, Life Hacks

I may have actually stumbled upon the secret to get my toddler to willingly eat more than mac n’ cheese and applesauce at dinner time!

My eldest son spoiled me rotten. As a baby he loved sweet peas, and as a kindergartener one of his favorite meals is chicken nuggets with a strawberries and a side salad. Yes. A side salad. And not just lettuce smeared with ranch dressing. No, he prefers a drizzle of balsamic glaze. I was therefore fully unprepared for the challenge that is my youngest son at meal times.

So sayeth the toddler

Greens need not touch his plate. In fact, go ahead and extend that to most other food groups. If the food on his plate wasn’t a complex carb – well he just wasn’t interested. We tried plane sounds. We tried rewards and other bribery such as promising deserts. He sealed his lips tighter than Fort Knox. We tried trickery. He returned the favor by hiding it all in his cheeks and spitting it out later. We told him that if he didn’t eat his dinner he would be sent to time out or even to bed. He chose time out. And I don’t just mean by continuing with attitude. I mean my toddler actually said, in clear English, with a smile on his face, “I wan time out.”

My toddler is now two and a half, which means I only have to live with the terrible twos for another few months. [Then I get the joy of the trying threes! Yippee!!!] As a result, you may believe that he will naturally become more willing to try new things as maturing. Perhaps. But perhaps he requires more incentive to change his behavior. Perhaps we all do.

Vision without execution is hallucinationI recently read a post suggesting that everyone should find themselves an accountability partner. I loved the idea and brought it up with my hubby. He and I are both idea people, and idea people tend to make terrible executors if left to their own devices. Not because they don’t want to execute on their original idea, just because there is always a nicer, shinier, new idea just waiting to be developed. I asked him if he’d be willing to start setting a personal goal each week which we’d discuss over Sunday dinner. He agreed to try.

Sunday rolled around and we started discussing what we wanted to accomplish this week. Our kindergartener caught on and wanted to come up with his own goal for the week. Excellent! We agreed that we would all take on one small bite sized goal for the week. If we were all successful at the end of the week as a family, we’d award ourselves with a single star. If we could all earn twenty stars then we’d go on a vacation. Kiddo was sold. He loves winning, no matter what the rules of the game are. Then he asked what his brother’s goal should be. We thought about and agreed that he had to try his food every night this week.

Sunday dinner went smoothly. Monday’s too. Then Tuesday night, toddler stubbornness was back in full effect. I sighed and said, well I guess we aren’t getting a star this week as I tried to figure out my next strategy. Suddenly Kiddo was by his brother’s side cheering his brother along. My toddler may enjoy tests of will against me, but adores his brother above all things and wants to be just like him. His mouth opened and in went the food. The star was saved for another day and there was much rejoicing.

Execution is made easiest when you allow your team to take ownership of the method, and the best incentives are the ones the team comes up with themselves. All the leader is supposed to do is provide a clear vision of where they want to go and then get out of the way while his or her team does what they do best in order to get there. It would seem this is just as true in the house as it is the office.

It has only been a few days, but I am optimistic that my family will be healthier and stronger, or at least better fed, as a result of this experiment. With a little determination and a lot of accountability, the seats around out dinner table on Sundays will soon be filled with champions.