My Trip to The North Pole

This weekend I got to be an elf as we traveled to the North Pole to pick up Santa! I lead songs on the Polar Express with all the children (and apperanlty there are WAY more words to Christmas songs than just the chorus - I've clearly been singing the songs wrong my whole life). My elf hat was GINORMOUS, which I wasn't thrilled about, and one parent said that they could see it from the other side of the parking lot... #yay 

 

Hope everyone had a magical and joyful weekend! 🎅🎁🎄🎉

Xoxo

Surreal Moments, Ones That Can't Be Explained

It's been a while. It's been a while since I've posted anything on here. And even longer since I've reflected on where I am in my life or where I'm going. After a long day of work and a much anticipated weekend, I reflected on where I am in my career on my way home. After making a phone call to my mom to discuss our days, she grew silent. We asked each other how our days were, but not much was said. I can't remember the exact dialogue, but I remember her saying that someone has passed away. It's been years since I've experienced loss. Sure, there's been heart ache through medical conditions, surgeries and life changing moments, but it hasn't been death in a long time.

I knew this person briefly, although my parents knew him for more than 25 years. He helped me in launching my career right out of college, gave me room to grow and explore the business world in a way I've never seen it before. We may not have been close, or known each other very well, but his kind actions will always mean so much.

It's interesting how people experience loss and how they express their anger, fear, frustration and anything in-between. My dad knew this man the most, and watching him express his shock is something that I can't explain. No matter what test results indicate, awards received, stories shared or work accomplished, no one can explain why things happen the way they do.

I've heard the word surreal so many times this evening I've almost forgotten it's meaning. When tragedy strikes people come together and they talk. They share stories, memories and feel each other's pain. This happened with my family. We sat down for dinner and talked about how surreal life was, for all of us. Life events were discussed, plans for the weekend were made and the small moments of silence in between our small conversations were moments we each reflected on.

Often we forget to appreciate what's right in front of us. We're so busy keeping up with traffic and cutting each other off on the highway, that we lose track of the precious things. The moments that can't be replaced.

This weekend, I'm going to take my own advice. I'm going to slow down and appreciate the many things I've already been blessed with.

I hope you all do the same.

xoxo

Don't Let Them Have Children #Oh

Maybe it’s how I was raised, or maybe it’s my desire to be independent, or maybe its my lack of willingness to deal with idiotic comments. Yet again, our society is basing individuals’ ability to be parents based on their appearance or in this case, sexual preferences. An article in the New York Times discusses a study saying that same-sex couples ultimately fail as parents, “The study, Dr. Regnerus wrote, “clearly reveals” that children are most apt to succeed when they grow up “with their married mother and father.”

Not only did this comment make me angry, it made me question where these children are. I've encountered plenty of children throughout my lifetime from working at camps and swim teams. I've met some outstanding parents and great kids, but I wouldn't say they are all flawless. EVERYONE has their issue, that’s how life is. If we base our values off of how television shows portray the ideal family, we will forever be stuck in a world of disappointment.

The article continues noting that Dr. Regnerus wrote in a pretrial brief, “it remains prudent for government to continue to recognize marriage as a union of a man and a woman, thereby promoting what is known to be an ideal environment for raising children.” 

Excuse me while I provide you some examples of “quality parenting” of heterosexual individuals.

1. A mother is accused of leaving her two children in a cold car while she got her makeup done at a mall in Charles County.

2. 8 Monstrous Mothers Who Killed Their Own Children.

And if the stories aren’t enough, enjoy the photos.

Wendy D. Manning, a professor of sociology at Bowling Green State University in Ohio notes: “only about half the children in the United States live with married, biological parents.” The article also mentions, “Children of single mothers, adopted children, children of divorce and children in poverty all have worse outcomes on average than children in stable middle-class marriages.” That’s shocking; I thought ALL children from heterosexual parents were perfect?

Regardless of the sexual orientation of the individuals raising a child it’s understandable that a child may lack the characteristics of a male or female figure in their life. This would promote people to encourage strict “rules” of only having heterosexual marriages. However, this would equally be the case for a child being raised by a single parent.

I guess I’m confused why America cares SO much about what the ‘gays’ are doing OR even why they are referred to in that category? Why do we think that we know the answer to how children should be raised? Why are we so scared of letting people be parents? It’s probably safe to say those who oppose this lifestyle and say that gay people aren't good parents are also the people that walk away when they see a parent scream or even hit their child in public. It’s a double standard. It’s not fair or even logical to automatically assume that if a man and a women have a child together they will instantly be fantastic parents.   

xoxo

Black, White, Purple, Blue. Who Cares If They Look Like You?

As I casually scrolled the New York Times website this morning, I clicked on the Opinions page. Often times I will go through this section to see if anyone has an opinion that is similar to mine. Most times I am wrong, people usually don't have similar views as I do. Usually I'm okay with this, other times I'm so appalled and ashamed of these people. Today, I am ashamed. The Opinion article read, In Adoption, Does Race Matter?

I know, this is where people should freely be able to voice their opinions and I should accept that not everyone will see things the same way. However, I'm still shocked.

Cheerios is familiar with controversy with their last ad that sparked an incredible backlash from viewers. The last advertisement showed a bi-racial family(the same one that was featured on the Super Bowl ad).  4,871,934 views later, 76,054 thumbs up and 3,070 thumbs down, the comments section on YouTube was disabled. 

The New York Times article offers scholars and authors an opportunity to debate this “issue” on whether children should be raised by people who look like them. I’m sorry, why is this even a debate? Skin color, hair color, eye color, or anything for that matter in terms of appearance should NEVER be a box someone should have to check to justify that they would be fit parents.

Too many children are stuck in foster care, abusive homes and caught in a continuous cycle of being neglected. WHY ON EARTH would we limit a child’s ability to find a loving home simply because the adoptive parents do not look like them? I’m still very confused as to why this is even an issue, that clearly has sparked an excessive amount of controversy. No one should be told that they can’t adopt a child simply because they do not look like them.  

While I fully understand that some children may be confused about where they come from or feel like they may not "fit in," I think people should have the opportunity to show a child that race should not matter when it comes to love and family. Regardless of appearance, people are able to show compassion, and ultimately end the stereotype that someone's characteristics make them a "better person."

xoxo

True Life: I'm in a Literary Society

Have you ever been so mad at a situation where all you want to do is throw your arms in the air, or scream at the top of your lungs or completely walk away from it entirely and not look back? Well, that's exactly how I feel every time I'm faced with a new altercation, because of an organization I am apart of. Before I decided to come to IC I knew I wanted to accomplish great things. I was actively involved in high school; playing two sports and a leader in multiple organizations. My junior year alone, I was involved with 11 different activities. My hope was to carry this passion and drive on to my next chapter. Having a love for golf in high school, I decided to continue playing in college. Two cars packed and 4.5 hours later, I was at my first golf team meeting. The girls seemed nice and I was ready to get on the course. This team ended up not being my cup of tea, but I was okay with that because I accepted a coaching position with the swim team in town. I finally felt like I was engaging in my community and reaching out to the youth. But, that wasn't enough. I still wanted to be a part of something much larger.

When I came in town for a visit I met a girl who seemed to genuinely care about my interests. We exchanged numbers that day. This was 5 years ago and she still remains one of my closest friends. Through this friend I learned about literary societies. From the very beginning of my college search (I started looking in 6th grade) I knew Greek Life was on my list of needs for a school. 11 college applications later, I chose Illinois College. When rush began, I was ready and understood that if I received a bid, I was about to become a part of something larger than myself with history older than any of my family members.

Some people say I am "paying for my friends." Yeah, okay. I also payed to play athletics, which I've been a part of since I was 6 months old. Which included, but is not limited to: my swim suits (a new one every 3 months because I swam so much) leotards, dance shoes(tap, ballet, jazz, hip-hop), make-up and costumes for recitals, soccer cleats, tennis rackets, golf clubs (and obviously all the adorable, yet expensive golf clothes I HAD to have), private school for 10 years, art classes; the list goes on and on.  I also pay tuition, where I meet people and make friends. Everything you do in life, comes with a cost.

Some people say "Greek life is Stupid." - Yeah, so were my 5:45 a.m. practices and my 2-a-days in the freezing cold pool just to say I was a member of a Water Polo team that was top-8 in the state of Illinois.

Whatever you think of Greek life, chances are I don't care. But I do care how hard I've had to fight to stay a float. It's quite obvious when people try to tear you down and attempt to dis-ban your organization. Often times I find it very difficult to have pride in something that I've worked three years to be a member of, when people with "titles" only want you to go away. And then I'm faced with the sad realization that I had more freedoms in high school than I do in college.

All my frustration aside, it's hard to express to people my love for a place that has caused me so much pain. I've made friends with students who are athletes and students who aren't in any organized group. I am not tied down to one thing. However, when I say "True Life: I am in a Literary Society," it's known that you will face MANY battles. That is one thing I can leave my school saying; I was thrown every rule, regulation, insult and injury in the book; and I'm still fighting. If there's one lesson I can take away from being a member of this kind of organization, it's that I am a million times stronger than I was when I first began my undergrad career.

Thank you for not only allowing me to obtain two degrees, but for showing me that I will most likely  have to continue fighting for EVERYTHING and justify even the smallest things. Not only have you made me angry and want to walk away from everything, you've made me a fighter. For that, I thank you.

xoxo

Top 6 Reasons Why Being a Senior in College is THE Worst ...

Top 6 Reasons Why Being a Senior is The Worst ...

6.) Everyone convinces you to do things by saying: "this is your last semester of college, you HAVE to come on this late night McDonald's run." Then obviously you just HAVE to go. 

5.) Everyone will ask you if you're ready for the next chapter of your life. To which I automatically begin to panic as the uncertainty of the "next step" is very unclear.

4.) You come to realize that you will never be as close in proximity as you currently are to all of your friends, classes, jobs or meetings. 

3.) People ask you what you're doing with your future. This needs to stop. I'm not too positive of my plans for tomorrow, let alone 5 months from now. I'm working on it.

2.) You spend a lot of time feeling guilty for hating things from the past three years, with thoughts such as: "well maybe things aren't THAT bad" - "I'm really going to miss this place after I graduate" - "Maybe those people aren't that bad" - or "Maybe my school actually does want me to do well" .... Whatever it is, you'll feel guilty for the choices you've made these past few years.

1.) "Are you excited to figure out your life??!?!" - Yeah, I'm thrilled. Is there an instruction manual someone can lend me?

These 6 things aside, some college students aren't exactly making the best choices for their futures. Some would say making the headlines of Huffington Post and CNN are an accomplishment. While others such as Anderson Cooper would say these college kids took Martin Luther King day a tad bit too far. He describes the event as: "just your average white kids dressed in basketball jerseys, throwing gang signs and drinking from, believe it or not, watermelon cups. Now, I know, you don't want to believe that something so racist, asinine and so ignorant can actually happen in 2014. Frankly, it would be easier to believe that someone got the story wrong. After all, there's no proof that this happened, right? Well there is.. They posted pictures on Instagram." They included hash tags  of #MLKparty #watermeloncup #blackoutformlk #ihaveadream #hood

Let this be a lesson to future college students. Instead of creating an offensive "theme" just go to the bar and call it a day. Also, there's no reason to be racist.

xoxo

Tragedy Close to Home

Too often tragedy seems far from home. Day after day I hear of school shootings, bomb threats and drug busts. However, they never really appear to be near me in proximity or to affect the people I know. This time is different. I logged onto Facebook and Twitter yesterday (like I do religiously every 15 minutes - like clock work) and discovered this awful news. In a neighborhood across the street from me, tragedy struck. A 14 year old girl is accused of stabbing her 11 year old sister, because she said she was "ungrateful."

I don't know all the details and am not pr-ivied to any inside information, but I do know this: my neighborhood is the idealistic view of suburbia. Everyone has a tree and a mailbox with a swing set/pool in their back yards- (trust me, I've Google-earthed my neighborhood, EVERYONE has a swing set or a pool). This neighborhood is no different. Within walking distance of a church and the community high school (my Alma Mater). Dangerous is not an adjective to describe this community. While I may not be in Mundelein at the moment, my heart still hurts for my community. I will not speculate on the details or the facts, but I would like to share my condolences with the place I call home.

We've faced tragedy before and unfortunately may face it again, however, I know my community's strength and pride for Mundelein. To help this community, a fundraiser has been established and a "Light Up" day has been created.

Stay Strong Mundelein, Thinking of you Always.

xoxo

 

Why Can't I Be Santa?

Let me be clear about one thing: some things are very important and need attention. While others, such as this, should not be an issue. I'm a huge believer in Santa and Christmas and even the Ginger Bread Man (or really anything that goes along with Christmas). As a kid I was never told what Santa looked like. Sure, I had seen him a million times at the mall and yes I have TONS of photos of my brother and I sitting on his lap; having multiple arguments as we decided what our outfits would be so our pictures would look just PERFECT! (As perfect as a photo of your crying children sitting on the lap of a man being paid hourly in a Santa suit in the middle of the mall can be). However, we were never told that "Santa IS white" and frankly, I don't care what color this man is. 1. He is fictional (I'm still upset that my parents lied to me). 2. I don't see why this is an issue, are we as a society really questioning a fictional character who is jolly, full of charisma and travels the world to give us gifts?!?! You can't POSSIBLY tell me there is nothing else in the world that we could talk about, but this issue? I don't care what Santa looks like. He could be purple or even a zebra for all I care. For years this man brought me some of my favorite gifts from my Barbie Mansion to my Barbie Jeep. I never thought about what color he was. This article by Aisha Harris is the fuel that caused the fire to racial criticism throughout the cyber world, Santa Claus Should Not Be a White Man Anymore. In her discussion with CNN Harris mentions: "The point I was trying to make was that ... the world has changed a lot over the last 50-100 years and Santa Clause is a fictional character. He is nothing like the original historical figure he was based off of anymore.We have kind of evolved him into this magical, mythical figure." She then continues to discuss how she doesn't want children to feel like Santa is always white. I think this is a fascinating concept and one I have never really took much time to think about. I am not opposed to this idea at all! If a blue dinosaur wants to come down my fireplace chimney and deliver me another Barbie Jeep, I would willingly accept it. Too often our society devours the idea of race determining power. Honestly, I think we're beyond that and my home away from home, Macy's agrees. During the Christmas time Macy's offers a black Santa per the request of guests.

As wonderful as this is (and not to open a whole new can of worms) - but why is there a Mrs. Clause, why can't Santa have a partner? Or be by himself and be independent? OR why can't I deliver gifts and be paid hourly to sit in a chair at the mall and have people pay to see me? 

On that note, keep on keeping on Santa. Also, I want another Barbie Jeep.

xoxo