Life is a full circle

wpid-20150515_094210-1.jpg
Life is a circle

“There are patterns which emerge in one’s life, circling and returning anew, an endless variation of a theme.” – Jacqueline Carey

Isn’t it funny how life is a full circle?

I remember it so clearly, though it was almost 32 years ago. We had just gotten married, and my husband and I loaded up my not-so-cool 1980 Mustang (a sorry excuse for a “hot” set of wheels… it was the model year when one could buy a four-cylinder, fuel-efficient, nothing-under-the-hood quasi-sports car).  We were heading from Michigan to Arizona, where we’d spend a few months while my husband was in school. I was pretty excited as we set off on our new adventure. Of course there were no cell phones, GPS or any other technological conveniences that we are accustomed to having when traveling today. We tossed the bags in the trunk, grabbed the maps, said our teary goodbyes and we were on our way.

Continue reading “Life is a full circle”

It must be true. I read it online.

It must be true. I read it online.
It must be true. I read it online.

 “Knowledge is good.” Emil Faber – Faber College – Animal House

This morning, as I was drinking my lemon water (I read online that this is good for you), I started reading all kinds of neat new tricks for every ailment and flaw under the sun. As the last shot of lemon water sent a sour shiver down my spine, I reached for the coffee, and then started my routine of quenching my thirst for knowledge. Continue reading “It must be true. I read it online.”

Soap suds fun in Lynne’s Lab

wpid-2014-08-30-12.58.55.jpg.jpeg“What is elegance? Soap and water!” – Cecil Beaton

Well here I am, back in Lynne’s Lab, playing mad scientist again. My drive for finding natural solutions to chemically-laced products has made me more aware of how simple things can be. Like soap suds.

Continue reading “Soap suds fun in Lynne’s Lab”

Menopause transformed the bedroom into a brothel

wpid-2014-06-27-12.17.31.jpg.jpeg“Say what you want about long dresses, but they cover a multitude of shins.” – Mae West

Yes, peri-menopause is making me a changed woman. It is doing things to my body and brain that I never knew it could. It is also changing my house. How, you ask? Because menopause is transforming the bedroom into a brothel.

But, not in the way you would think.

Continue reading “Menopause transformed the bedroom into a brothel”

The Elephant in the Room

Full disclosure: I am participating in a Vibrant Influencer Network campaign for Depend. I am receiving a fee for posting; however, the opinions expressed in this post are my own. I am in no way affiliated with Depend and do not earn a commission or percent of sales.

“What I feared was the onset of incontinence was simply a mid-laugh crisis.”Venita Louise

A little humor can go a long way when dealing with life’s challenges. But the topic of incontinence isn’t funny for people who suffer from the affliction.

The condition is rarely mentioned, because let’s face it, it is embarrassing. But, millions of Americans have bladder control issues, (also known as incontinence). The condition can affect anyone – not just older people. Bladder control issues can also affect young people, particularly women who have given birth or men who have been treated for prostate cancer. For those who suffer, their lifestyles can be greatly affected. Many sufferers feel like they are prisoners in their own homes, fearful to go out in public in case they have an accident. Sometimes, a sneeze, cough or a laugh can put enough pressure on the bladder to cause leakage.

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-05-20.42.51.jpg.jpg When I was first asked to write about incontinence and Depend® products for my blog, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring up this delicate subject matter. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought, “why not?” Though I don’t suffer from this, maybe some of my readers do. And if they don’t, maybe they are caregivers for someone who does suffer from bladder leakage.

 

wpid-storageemulated0DCIMCamera2014-02-05-20.44.05.jpg.jpgI received a package of Depend® underwear for women, and opened the contents. I was really surprised at how thin and lightweight they are, and how flexible the material is. Made with Lycra®, the garments look like they would be comfortable to wear, and everyday movement could be done with ease. These products could easily be worn under one’s regular clothing and not be detected. Depend® Underwear with Flex-Fit® is available for both men and women, plus there are other leakage-control products available: light, moderate and maximum absorbency levels.

Years ago, when I had a conversation with my doctor about a health issue, he gave me some very sound advice. To paraphrase him, “When your quality of life is affected, that’s when you know you need to take action.” After reading and researching about incontinence, it pained me to know that so many people had given up things they loved due to bladder issues: socializing with friends and family; sports and exercise; travel and more. Many who suffer incontinence also suffer from self-esteem issues and shame. As technology and materials become more user-friendly, it is good to know that health aids, such as Depend® products, could make a positive difference in someone’s life, allowing them to return to the activities they enjoyed.

Depend® has posted videos on their website, featuring the personal journeys of people with bladder control issues and highlighting how these products made a difference in the quality of their lives, giving them the freedom and confidence to get back to living. Here is a link where you can watch their inspirational stories.

It is reassuring to know that progress has been made in the development of good products to help with bladder control. If you, or someone you care for, is experiencing incontinence, check out the full line of Depend products by visiting their website, where you will also have an opportunity to request a free sample. The website also offers links for “Community & Support” and for “Caregivers.”

© Lynne Cobb – 2014

I hope this review was helpful. If you have any questions or comments, please post in the comment section. If you feel this information will help someone, please feel free to share this post.

Straight from heaven – a message from Dad

fall sunrise

Given the current climate of our country, and our world, anxiety seems pretty high these days. I know I am not alone. For me, I can toss in mid-life adjustments, family circumstances and an insanely busy schedule to the big bowl of life, and mixing it all together, I can attest that I am feeling a bit on-edge and hyper; simply put – anxious.

Add another ingredient of life into the mixing bowl – my dad passed away a little over two years ago. I still miss him. He was my “go-to” guy when I felt anxious. He didn’t always try to fix things; most of the time he just listened.

The father-daughter bond we shared was very strong, and even though I can’t physically see or hear him, I think of him daily, and I believe he communicates in his own special way.

For instance, a few hours before my dad passed away, we experienced an early evening, mid-summer storm. Strong winds, thunder, lightening – the works. A vibrant and a most beautiful rainbow appeared shortly after the storm… and a rainbow occurred monthly at the same time – the 23rd day of each month – for several months after his death. Anyone who has lost someone so dear marks the monthly anniversary until it becomes a yearly observation. (Oh, this was amazing, too – a rainbow appeared on the first Father’s Day we celebrated without him.)

I will be going about my day, thinking of Dad, and then, one of his favorite songs will be on the radio, or one of his favorite hymns will be listed in the church bulletin. During times of incredible stress, I have seen Dad in my dreams. He says nothing, but has the most peaceful smile and always gives me a hug.

It is all too vivid and the timing is way too perfect to be called a coincidence.

When fall rolls around, I think of him constantly. Anyone who knew my dad also knew he had an immaculate yard, and during the fall, he declared a full-on attack of leaves. Yes, this is the man who would stop mid-conversation to go outside and grab a leaf off the front lawn. And yes, this is the same man who “slid” off the roof and broke his leaf blower because, yes, he was on the roof, ridding it of leaves, so that they wouldn’t land in the yard.

During Dad’s eulogy, our pastor shared these stories to all who came to celebrate his life. There was so much laughter. Seriously, who gets on the roof and, essentially, rakes it? One year, my siblings and our spouses wanted to bring bags of leaves and dump them all over the yard as a prank, so that when Dad grabbed his morning paper, he would be greeted with 3-4 inches of leaves covering every blade of grass. We didn’t, because, well, we knew that could have caused a major health event. We didn’t want to bear that burden the rest of our lives!

When we interred Dad’s ashes in a memorial garden at church, there was a hush of quiet as our immediate family gathered. It was a pretty fall day, and the earlier rain had subsided in the nick of time. Pastor was reading some Scripture, and said a prayer, and then there was a quiet murmur, which turned to some mild snickering… because in the spot where Dad’s remains would eternally rest, in that just-opened space in the memorial wall, what does our pastor find? A leaf. He wondered if we should remove it, or leave it there to drive dad crazy for all eternity.

See what I mean? I swear he sends us messages from beyond.

Well, I have really needed my dad these past few weeks. What I wouldn’t have given to just talk to him, which I still do. I guess what I really wanted was to hear his voice.

This past Sunday, after worship, my youngest daughter and I took a stroll through another garden at church. It was a nice walk, and we had just heard our pastor’s sermon about angels. The garden, still sporting some roses in the early fall, was peaceful and pretty, with a calming fountain and lots of stones with Scripture verses along the path. Halfway through our walk, one stone stood out to me because, of all things, there was a leaf laying on it. One, lone leaf, which, of course, caught my eye. Any time I see a random leaf, I can’t help to think of dear old dad.

Oh my gosh…I had to grab my phone and snap a photo, because I honestly could not believe my eyes! Straight from heaven – a message from dad!

do not be anxious

Right under the leaf, the Scripture verse read: “Do not be anxious about anything.” Philippians 4:6.

Teary-eyed, and a little shaken, I looked up, and whispered, “Thanks, Dad.”

© Lynne Cobb – 2013>

Let me know if you have received a message from heaven!

 

The day I lost my #FitBit

Disclosure: I am participating in the Verizon Boomer Voices program and have been provided with a wireless device and six months of service in exchange for my honest opinions about the product.

It is no secret…I am not a big fan of exercise. In fact, I have injured myself more than once trying to stay fit! However, I know that staying active – when I don’t hurt myself – is really necessary to good health, both physically and mentally. Especially as a boomer.

965

While in Chicago for our Verizon training and kick-off, we #Boomers were given a FitBit One wireless activity and sleep tracker. Jokingly, I called it my fitness stalker, because it records every step you take, every move you make…

Anyhow, I took me a while to muster up the courage to activate this very small, high-speed device, because – well – I was afraid it would show me just how inactive I can be. As I writer, I am on my rump a good portion of the day. So, sometime during mid-August, after the crazy summer started to settle down (storms, power outages, daughter being very ill, etc.), it was time to get into gear and see how much I moved – or didn’t move – in a day.

Seriously, if it took ten minutes to sync the little tracker to the laptop, create an account and download the mobile app to the Motorola Droid Razr Maxx HD I am also reviewing, then I would be surprised. I clipped the tracker on, and away I went.

967

Always wanting to know how close the grocery store is to my home, off I walked to grab a few groceries. Then, a little yard work, up and down the steps to do laundry and a short bike ride with my granddaughters. Quickly it was revealed to me that I didn’t move as much as I thought. I synced the tracker to see my stats throughout the day, and realized I needed to move a bit more.

As I am really competitive with myself, my goal was to break the previous day’s step record. That would’ve been ideal had I clipped it on before I walked out the door! Ugh! You can bet that the next morning, I didn’t forget!

And then, I was hooked.

I received a badge for over 5,000 steps. The next day, I walked over 6,000 steps. The day after that, I was trying get to over 8,000 steps. The tracker really did motivate me, and I walked the entire floor of two super-sized stores, ran many errands, did laundry, walked to the grocery store and then walked to my neighbor’s for a knitting group. Secretly, I wondered if my stitching would record on the FitBit.

The world will never know.

At 10:45 p.m., exhausted yet exhilarated, I grabbed my FitBit to sync up and view my amazing, awesome, physically active day.

It was gone.

Gone! I searched high and low until midnight, digging through the laundry, crawling around the yard with my awesome flashlight app. I contacted my neighbor, who didn’t see the tracker. I texted texts, posted posts and tweeted tweets.

Gone. I am still stunned, because the clip was extremely strong. A little bump wasn’t going to budge or nudge it off my pocket. I am thinking I was pick-pocketed!

Feeling deflated, I crawled into bed. I couldn’t even track my sleepless night with the FitBit because, dang it, I had lost it!

The next morning, I was again walking through the yard, down the street, up and down the steps, digging through my knitting bag, climbing under the car, moving furniture, checking dog crates, warning my son to look for it while he cut the grass. I probably tripled my activity as I re-traced my steps, trying to find my FitBit. I bet I had a better workout just trying to find the tracker than if I had been wearing it!

It took a few days to resign myself to the fact my FitBit was gone. Oh, and to add insult to injury, my FitBit stat report arrived via email, showing all the progress I had made, up until my “inactive” period. I wanted to cry! I could have had some really great numbers to post, if I hadn’t lost my tracker.

fitbit

So yes, the FitBit works. That device will motivate you to move, whether it is attached to you or laying in a parking lot somewhere, waiting to be found.

© Lynne Cobb – 2013

Do you use a fitness tracker? If so, which one? Has it motivated you to move? Share in the comments section!

Woo whoo! The folks at Verizon/ComBlu took mercy upon me and sent another FitBit One! Look what arrived today! Thank you!!!! 🙂

new fitbit

So which team am I going to cheer for?

“Football is like life – it requires perseverance, self-denial, hard work, sacrifice, dedication and respect for authority.” – Vince Lombardi

Fall. Sunny days and cool, crisp evenings. Football weather. The chance to reconnect with  friends at the stadium. Hoodies printed up with team logos, marching bands, brats grilling, whistles blowing – Friday nights under lights across the U.S.

Memories flooding. Some folks may feel torn. Some may be ambivalent. Some, like me, find the irony a bit comical.

High school, and once again for me, it is a bit awkward. Why? Because, should I decide to go to the game, who will I cheer for?

This week’s football game is an “us versus them.” Only for me, “us” is my kids’ high school football team going up against my old high school, who is now “them.”

If I let it, it could prove to be quite a dilemma. The school that helped shape me, that educated me, that housed friendships and memories.

My past.

Days of teenage angst; feeling like I didn’t fit in. The square peg in the round hole. The one who didn’t measure up against my peers…

I haven’t been to that football field since I graduated. But since then, I have met up with some classmates I graduated with, and we have had a great time together at each gathering. Life has beat us all up, and we’ve dealt with stuff we would have never dreamed of when we graduated and parted ways some 30-plus years ago: deaths, deployments, divorces, downsizing… none of us unscathed by life.

But it makes for better friendships and deeper conversations than it did back when we were teens.

I would love to root for my old alma mater.

But I can’t. It is the past.

I am in the present.

In the here and now, I have to cheer on my new home team, which boasts of some pretty good guys. The young men who, I swear just yesterday, were about half the size they are now, goofing off and eating pizza in a classroom party I helped host.

Some of these young men have been over to shoot hoops in my driveway. A few of them were here to help with a science fair project that consisted of putting Mentos into diet soda in anticipation of pop shooting all over the sidewalk. (They weren’t disappointed.) Some of these young men were loud boys who needed to be reminded to be quiet at 2 a.m., because, yes – even in the summer – parents have to work. One of these young players has a good throwing arm in part because he and my son tossed bricks to each other to practice (until I shrieked for them to stop!) Many of the guys on the team have grown up with my son; they are some of his closest friends, and their parents are now among my some of my dearest friends.

I will cheer for my new home team because it boasts of a lot of young men I have watched grow and mature over the years.

I will cheer for my new home team because it is the team my son cheers for.

I will cheer for my new home team because my youngest daughter, a JV cheerleader, will be there, rain or shine, sleet or snow, for her home team.

I will cheer for my new home team because each week they bring the hope of a win, a reason to gather, a sense of community.

While I am not forgetting my past, I am putting it behind me where it belongs, while enjoying the present.

To my new home team, and to your young fans, I cheer for your future. I hope that the bonds you make today with your friends continue to grow deeper with time. When you part ways at graduation, I hope you stay in contact with each other. When life beats you up and you have mud on your face and you’re up against hardships that you never knew were possible, I hope that you will find yourself grounded and firm because of your home team.

When you graduate from college or trade school and have a family of your own, I hope the values you learned growing up in this town stay with you. That you welcome a yard full of kids, running, swimming, shooting hoops, squirting each other with hose. (But for Heaven’s sake, please don’t let them toss bricks!)

And after a few years, maybe even a few decades, when you meet up with your classmates, I hope you will find that your friendships are stronger and your conversations are better.

And if you find yourself in an awkward spot on a Friday night, please know that it is okay to cheer a new home team.

Even if it feels a bit odd.

The new home team will appreciate it, and the old one will understand.

Trust me on this.

© 2012  – Lynne Cobb

Dressing rooms, blue jeans and a midlife crisis

I have been accused of being “too picky.” Personally, I prefer “selective.” A perfectionist? Maybe.

That could be why I detest shopping for clothes.

Especially blue jeans.

I can’t seem to find the perfect jeans, which is why when I find an acceptable pair, I wear them over and over. Honestly, I could just kick myself for not buying several pairs of the acceptable jeans, because they became my Favorite Pair – and now they are way beyond fixing. Not too long ago, and totally pushing my luck, I did indeed wear Favorite Pair to the store. Just a quick dash in and out, I told myself. But then, I ran a few more errands. And, when I got home, to my horror, I noticed that somewhere along the way, the patch that held my jeans together fell off.

Yikes! I’m not sure I want to know how many people saw the gaping hole in my jeans. I am not a teenager anymore.

But I digress.

Knowing that this search and try-on process is going to take me to where I don’t go mentally, I decided to arm myself for battle, and make things easier by wearing my awesome, comfy yoga pants instead of my back-up pair of jeans, which I don’t care much for. Plus, they were in the laundry pile, since they have been overused with the demise of Favorite Pair.

Ah, my yoga pants. I use them for exercising and as my errand-running back-ups. And, well, when I realized Favorite Pair was probably going to become further worn-out with household chores, I started wearing my comfy black yoga paints. To clean. With bleach.

Thank goodness that a black Sharpie marker covered my mistake.

Anyhow, back to the hunt.

I dug through piles of denim, like a dog digging for a bone. My favorite style of jeans has to be here, I thought to myself, as panic set in.

Nope. My favorite style is gone. History.

Which meant finding a replacement.

Great. I became overwhelmed at all the choices, but marveled at all the fashionable opportunities available. Why, with a little luck, maybe even I could look like that mannequin!

So, as with any change, I embraced a new look with an air of excitement and a bit of apprehension, plus two sizes of style of jeans, because, Lord only knows which clothing manufacturer’s styles and sizes are going to fit. I dashed off to the changing rooms, with anticipation of my new look.

After the first few attempts, I started to get worried. Nothing fit. So, accepting that I probably gained a little weight – though Favorite Pair never let me know that – I started looking at other sizes. And other brands.

No luck.

Getting frustrated, I literally wanted to cry. In a sea of clothing, I was drowning in waves of panic. Nothing fit ME. Negative thoughts started popping into my brain, like the clothing manufacturers having a “thing” against me and women my age. The dream of looking like the mannequin – gone, just like the youthful body I once had. I felt old and washed up – as if I couldn’t do anything right. Negativity was oozing out of every pore, and I started thinking of all my failures, especially my chosen career path. How could I have known that my favorite industry would change, and be replaced with a cool, new style that, no matter how hard I tried, I just had the hardest time getting a good fit? Like my faded old blue jeans, I guess I miss my “faded” old career.

Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes. So, this is midlife, huh? Well, the fighter in me came out, and had a smack down with my toxic emotions. And I got back into the ring.

Yes, I was getting older, and my body was changing – that’s life. Yes, there has been some serious grief and loss and change in the past few years, but there has also been great growth and love and joy. There are going to be frustrations – that’s life, and that’s not going to change. And it is a good life, so keep moving along.

Wiping my tears, I stepped out of the changing room and put the all of jeans that didn’t fit on the “don’t want” rack. Seriously, I had tried on at least 16 pairs of jeans. I apologized to the woman who had to restock them. She smiled and said “No problem.” I think she saw the mascara smudges from my tears.

“There is a perfect pair for you out there,” she said, and pointed me in another direction. “Just keep looking.”

She was right. Not just about finding the jeans, but by reminding me to never give up.

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb