Do I Have To?

There are a few things in life which I have to do, but I would skip if I could.

I would skip going to the dentist, if I could, but a recent incident involving the loss of part of a tooth indicates a regular 6 month visit is probably necessary.

I would skip going to Wal-Mart, if I could, but I haven't gotten comfortable yet with buying my feminine products at Aldi. Meat yes, tampons no. Weird, huh?

But the thing I would skip most of all is going to a car dealership. I hate having to buy a car.

First, let me put things in perspective. Buying a car is a huge expense. I think that is what ruins it from the start. Since my husband and I do not go to the nearest car dealer with a briefcase full of 50s and 100 dollar bills ready to drop it on a Ferrari, the fun in car buying is already diminished.

My husband and I have had some bad experiences with car buying. Once we were strong armed into buying a car after being told we could not leave the salesman's office to even privately discuss our options. If we left - so did the deal.

Once, this hipster couple (before hipsters were even a thing) bought a Volkswagon Jetta we couldn't afford and then, less than a year later, we tried installing our first car seat. I cried when by pregnant stomach touched the dashboard. Bye bye, Jetta.

We have since embraced buying used vehicles and, in a way, that has opened up a world of security. There is not much wiggle room when it comes to price. Kelley Blue book tells you what it is worth and the internet allows a person to research any vehicle, stress free without even setting foot on a lot.

This past Monday, my husband and I began the search for our next van. We had one day to check out a couple options, in person, which means we had to finally do the dance and interact with salespeople.

It started out really well. Our first guy was very laid back. He was older, had a been there done that attitude and pretty much gave us our space. We took a test drive, got some paperwork and bada boom bada bing we were off to the next location. This is where it got interesting.

At our second location we were paired up with the "top gun" of salesman - young, slick and ready to make a sale. He was hungry and wanted to see us drive a van off of his lot. Initially, our interaction was pretty standard - test drive, some talk of figures, financing, but when we were ready to go, it was time to bring in the heavy - a guy who, just minutes before, walked across the showroom blasting "Eye of the Tiger" from his phone.

The boss man was in town, just for the day, and he had a pot of money to throw around as he saw fit. He offered to shave money off the cost of an extended warranty on the van. "But when I leave town tonight I take my money with me." It was like a deal we couldn't refuse. I saw a horse head in our future if we didn't agree to the terms.

Luckily, we saw through the smoke and left on our terms. Ultimately, it was about the vehicle. It was too much like what we already have and what we already have has been nothing but trouble. So we'll bide our time and wait for the van that feels right. The van, which will probably be our last, as our kiddos are growing fast.  Maybe down the line, my husband and I will have that suitcase filled with money so we can drop it on our 'empty nester' Ferrari. After putting three kids through college that doesn't seem likely but hey, a girl can dream.

Dragon's Den Coming Together in Homestead

On the outside,  St. Mary Magdalene Church in Homestead has not changed much in the almost four years since Giulia and Bill Petrucci took ownership. But once you walk through the doors, your jaw might drop a little. The Dragon's Den, an indoor rope course is taking shape and huge wooden poles that weigh 1800 pounds and extend 25 feet high, line the nave of the former Catholic church.

It has been a challenging process, as one would imagine, to take a church that is more than 100 years old, and had been vacant for 15 years, and transform it into a place kids can challenge themselves physically, mentally and socially.  The inspiration came from an outdoor activity park in Italy, near where Giulia is from. A few years back, her children, who at the time were ages 10 and 6, had an amazing experience and could not wait to tell her all about it.

"They said, 'We have done the most amazing thing. We were climbing on ropes, and drawbridges and zip lines. it was fantastic.'  I needed to see that. I went back and I was astounded," recalls Giulia.

She took pictures and videos and sent them to her husband. She also spoke with teachers who organized field trips to the park to get an educational perspective. Each platform had a different challenge the kids had to overcome. The skills, determination and sense of accomplishment she witnessed, even with her youngest child, made this seem like a dream worth pursuing, in Homestead.

From that point the dream involved bringing the designers of the Italian facility to Pittsburgh to specially design the course at St. Mary's. Giulia and Bill sat at their dining room table with the European designers and painstakingly thought out each aspect of the Dragon's Den, which takes its name from the mascot of the former St. Mary Magdalene School.

Due to the uniqueness of the project, many firms were interested in building this indoor course, but Giulia says, unfortunately, they did not follow through. That is when she and her husband decided to keep the project in the family, which includes the Dragon's Den Board of Directors, and build it themselves.

"We wanted to have the designers back.  They have a ton of experience and they can tell us exactly how to do it, how it's done," and between January 4 and the middle of February, Giulia's idea started to come to life, before her eyes. "It was a fantastic 40 days," she recalls.

The two month period came with many challenges. Getting the 25 feet poles in the building was the easy part, anchoring them to the walls, another story. Because of the safety issues involved, excessive time is being taken to make sure things are done properly. Each aspect of the rope course had to be approved by a structural engineer from the Department of Agriculture. But as of right now, a two week period in April is all that is needed to complete the second level of the course and move closer to  opening. All the pieces are precut and with the poles already being anchored to the walls, the assembly time will be a lot less than the first level.

In the meantime, work is happening behind the scenes as well to expand the board of directors to include individuals with a local connection. Within the next couple weeks, the nine person board will increase to thirteen, four of whom have ties to the Steel Valley area.

Treasurer Lisa Earle explains why the expansion is necessary. "Not only to get the word out but to help us adjust and tailor what we are going to be doing - the other programs later on and things like that." Giulia adds, "We are doing this for the community and you need to know the community you are going to help."

Many on the board have experience with non-profits and foundations and have been trying to encourage support of the Homestead project. Giulia says the idea is to be something the community can really take advantage of. "We have a place and a lot of non profits and schools have programs, but do not have a place. We really plan to partner with non profits to have even more to offer these children."

The vision is for the Dragon's Den to be open to the public a few nights a week and during weekends and then to serve as a field trip destination. Schools will be able to utilize the space and be provided a customized experience tailored just for them and the kids they are serving. For the local community, the facility will be a place for kids after school who may not be a traditional athlete, whose parents are working and may not have a place to go.

Kids will be able to chose their challenge level and progress each time they visit. The experience will also incorporate the unique architecture (brickwork, archways, terracotta medallions) of the Italian Renaissance style church, which is certified by the National Register of Historic Buildings. Bill says, "Someone that goes to church - those details are 25 to 30 feet away. These kids are going to be right up against this."

The slow process of the project does come with some limitations. Foundations are slow to back something, which is not yet up and running. Although Giulia says many groups and individuals have been generous in donating to the effort so far, more funds are needed. Once the course is built, many new expenses come to light: harnesses, helmets, staff and insurance.

"I'm sure the community is thinking 'when are they going to open?', but it is the same feeling for us. We just want to open and start making a difference because that's the reason why we started this huge project," explains Giulia."There are lots of people who are really connected to this place and can't wait to see those doors open, but we need help (additional funds) to see this through."

For more information on the Dragon's Den visit dragonsdenpgh.org.

An Indisputable Loss

I think many of us are anxious right now. Many of us are wondering about what is going to happen and how will we be affected.

The trial for Michael Rosfeld got underway this week.  If you live in the Pittsburgh area, his name needs no further explanation. He is the former East Pittsburgh police officer who fatally shot 17-year old Antwon Rose II last June.

I am not writing this to initiate a debate about what the jury should decide. I am praying for these men and women in the days ahead. I know their job is not going to be easy.

Many people were impacted by the protests that erupted following the June shooting. I am hoping we do not have to revisit this kind of expression. Antwon's mother has called for a peaceful period during the trial proceedings. Again, I pray people respect her wishes.

There are two sides to every story and this case is no different. But then there is the mother's story. That story only has one side. The side of loss. A heart with a piece missing, a void that will never be filled.

I have had contact over the years with a few women who have felt that loss - a loss I cannot imagine. Somehow they have foundt the strength to get out there and try to make a difference in the name of their children taken too soon.

I am inspired by these ladies. They cause me to be aware that what I have - my three amazing children - are on loan from God.

Last summer, I became very introspective because, as the mother of a 16-year-old, I know the kind of promise a teens' life holds. Will they chose to go to college? What career will they chose to excel at? Which one of their talents will allow them the chance to enjoy the amazing experiences life has to offer?

I remember being at the birthday celebration for Antwon that was held in Rankin last July on what would have been his 18th birthday. A table was decorated with items the young man treasured - his guitar, his writings, his skateboard.

 I stared at the table for the longest time, looking at these things any teen could have accumulated. It brought into focus the enormous loss to not only his family and his friends, but to the entire community.

At that moment I wanted to wrap my arms around my son and never let go. We don't know what life holds in store for the people we love. As a mom, I often want to make time stand still because now is safe, now is close, now is my kids here with me.

I felt guilty being at the party as an observer not a participant. I felt guilty knowing that I could hug my son and Antwon's mom no longer could. I wanted to go home.

Many issues will come up in the days ahead. Whether we like it or not, race will be debated, police brutality will be debated and the events leading up to the fatal shooting will be debated.

There will be an outcome of this trial and not everyone will be happy with the verdict. But no matter what side you are on, there is one fact that remains undisputed...a mother had her son violently taken from her and no verdict will bring him back.

ER ER Ohhhh

It is funny what you can observe when you spend an afternoon in the emergency room.

Let me first start by saying everyone is ok. My dad was dealing with some balance issues after a high fever. All tests came back negative.

But the emergency room in itself is it's own weird little universe. During the time you are there,  nowhere else seems to exist. If you are lucky and get to spend more than a few hours there, you meet some interesting characters.

My first encounter came about simply because of what I was wearing. Because it had been a leisurely Saturday, I was sporting my favorite Beatles t-shirt. The urgency of the phone call about my dad did not lend time for a costume change, not that one was even warranted. We were only headed to the emergency room. I am not sure what it is about this particular shirt but I have been approached by a stranger on various occasions while wearing it.

Last summer, I was stopped near Market Square and asked, "You a Beatles fan?" After I answered in the affirmative I was invited to check out a Beatles tribute band who had an upcoming show. While at the ER, walking to my dad's pod I was stopped by a nurse, I think he was a nurse, and had to prove my allegiance by answering a trivia question. An easy one by my standards. Which former Beatle had the first number one post break-up and the most recent number one? I'll give you a hint...he was the quiet one.

Once I excused myself from that encounter it was on to Dr. Doogie (reference to Neil Patrick Harris' breakout show from the 80's.) I had noticed this guy in scrubs walking past our pod a number of times.  (His striped socks and Chuck Taylor's stood out to me as a former wearer of Chucks until my arches gave out. In fact, my husband and I both were wearing Converse low tops on the day we met twenty-two years ago.) I only had a view of from the knee down, due to the curtain shadowing our door, but a mental note was made. Little did I know this guy was my dad's doctor.

Since my dad was only allowed two visitors at a time, I missed the first appearance of the doc. My mom did warn me though... he was cute. (In the medical profession, at least around here,  most of the people you deal with are not fresh faced and skipping around in sneakers.) When this gentleman stopped in the second time I was more caught up by the fact this Converse wearing, college boy looking guy was my dad's doctor.

His bedside manner was great. Very personal, funny, heck he even tossed in some age digs that seemed to go over like butter. Here are some of the gems from his interaction with my dad: "You are not my youngest patient" and "Something's gonna get you sometime." Who says this stuff? I was thinking to myself, "Doogie, good thing you are cute. "

He even pointed out my dad is in his eighth decade, which threw us all for a loop because my dad only turned 72 a few months ago. But after doing grade school math in my head, ten years in a decade, 0 to 10 years is one decade, I realized Doogie was right. An hour later, when I explained the math to my parents, they realized he was right too.  Not cool man. I wonder if he would have tried this shtick with a woman?

So despite the reality check comedy show, Doogie was able to get my dad a "private" room pretty quick. On his way out we exchanged some pleasantries and he shared that he was about to become a dad and hoped he would be a good one. (I'm sure those age jokes will be a hit on the toddler circuit.) We assured him he would be fine and then he was gone. My mom then turned to me and asked,           "Didn't you think he was cute?"

Frankly, he wasn't my type and the fact that he is about to have a kid and my oldest is about to turn 17, kind of killed any possible attraction. Then I did my own mental math and I realized I am in my fifth decade. I did the Charlie Brown walk down the hall as we were getting ready to move my dad into his room for the night.

In the distance, I noticed a pair of Chuck Taylor's zipping down a side hallway. I wanted to warn Dr. Doogie that he would eventually need more arch support with being on his feet all day. But then I realized he was probably less than a decade away from figuring that out himself.

From that moment on, each cushioned step I took in my Swedish comfort sole sneakers felt a little softer - a little wiser. Step gently Doogie and keep an eye out for Dr. Scholl.

One Sweet Street

Twas the night before Valentine's Day and all through the 'burgh a trip to the new Oakmont Bakery did not sound absurd.

You undoubtedly have heard about the beloved Oakmont Bakery moving to a new location. The move has been in the works for about four years, but as of February 6, the new location at the corner of Hulton Road and Third Street, just a few blocks from their previous location, is now open for business.

My relationship with Oakmont Bakery began 8 years ago. I kept hearing commercials on the radio about these paczkis, (pronounced pownch-kee) Polish donuts and I needed to get to the bottom of this tasty delight. (Since I am Slovak/Hungarian I grew up on ceregi not paczkis!) Because of the timing of learning about pownch-kee and having my third child, his nickname Pootchie was inspired by this Polish specialty.

The first trip to Oakmont Bakery turned into a tradition that now spans nearly a decade. We make the yearly trip, just before Lent begins, to get our last taste of sugar before the fasting season begins. There are at least 15 flavors. I have never strayed from the Oakmont Creme which has a chocolate buttercreme filling, but most of my family ops for the fruity flavored filling.

But I digress, we are talking about Valentine's Day not Lent.

The weeks prior to the bakery's move, news programs were filled with stories about the new luxurious location. It was during that time my mom saw a photo of one of their specialty cakes called the Sweetheart Torte, a chocolate and yellow cake topped with strawberries and chocolate ganache, and mentioned she would like to try it. She even saved the newspaper which featured the photo and article about the new store for me to read. This cake had made quite an impression on her.

The new bakery is 6 times the size of their previous location down the street and boasts more indoor and outdoor seating with lots more parking. But that parking was simply not enough on the night before Valentine's Day. Cars were lined up down the street as people were trying to get that special treat for their loved ones.

I had meant to get to Oakmont Bakery earlier that Wednesday, but the snow and cold didn't  make for an inviting afternoon errand. I thought about going to the bakery early Valentine's Day morning, they open at 6 a.m., but after seeing the stories about traffic being a bit snarly at the new location, I didn't want to risk being late for the school drop off.

I was in a bind. Either l would let it go and not get the cake at all or I would make a mad dash at 6 p.m. Mind you, they close at 7 p.m. Since I am a bit obsessive- compulsive, letting it go is not in my DNA.

My daughter accompanied me on the dash. She was having a bad day and I thought nothing boosts your mood like the prospect of getting tasty treats. I had full intention of getting us pre-annual paczkis, since I was making the 35 minute drive and thought I also deserved an extra treat this year.

When we turned onto Third Street the traffic was backed up and it was already 6:45 p.m. I told my daughter to run in and at least get a number and I would park. I was able to find a space down the street, not far, and I ran to the bakery.

When I looked at our number we were 160. The number they were serving at the time was 100. I wasn't sure how this would play out, but I figured since we were inside, there was a good chance of getting something.

Once I caught my breath, I looked for the cake. There were a few in the glass case. Yes! Then I looked at the paczkis. There were plenty of those too. But because we had so long to wait, and there was so much to see, cookies, cupcakes, cakes, my order changed a few times. I talked myself out of the paczkis, because the rest of the family wasn't with us and it just wouldn't be right. I talked myself into gingerbread men, for my sons, eclair, for my husband, and cannoli, for my daughter and I. Oh, and yes, the cake for my mom.

 Eventually, they locked the doors, as people were still trying to get in at 7:10 p.m., but shortly after that our number was called. I was pleased with how smoothly the transaction went and how I used self restraint in leaving with not much more than what I intended. Once in the car, my daughter and I enjoyed each bite of the mini cannoli and started the journey home.

The cake was really important to me because of what transpired one year ago to the day. My mom, siblings and I spent Valentine's Day 2018 in the hospital as my dad underwent major surgery. It was not a great way to spend the holiday, but it did provide us the amazing gift of my dad currently being cancer free.

I thought enjoying the Sweetheart Torte was appropriate this year to symbolize the sweetness of life.  So I left the cake on my parents' side porch with a small Valentine card. I sent a text to alert them of the special delivery. My mom was very surprised and said she would have a tough time waiting until after dinner to cut it.

Later in the evening, I even got to try a piece. Each moist bite made me happy there is an Oakmont Bakery for those times you just need something a little out of the ordinary to make the day mouthwateringly delicious.

I Luuurve You...

(Did you catch the Annie Hall reference?)

Love is in the air as winter makes a startling return this week. (Maybe we should refer to the recent frozen precipitation as Cupid's Mist?) Regardless of the weather, today is the day for that fuzzy emotion to reign supreme.

Some people have mixed emotions about the "love" day. There are people who don't want to buy into the "greeting card" holiday and feel they can express their love any day of the week. That is great for them but I wonder how many of these people actually follow through with that? Without the help of Mr. Hallmark, you pretty much would have to make a card yourself and if you don't have little ones in and out of your home you may not have the red construction paper or glue sticks needed to assemble your valentine.

Plus, without a designated day on the calendar, you would be left to pick a day yourself, and with as busy as life gets you may forget altogether to drop your special one a love note.

I used to get caught up in the romance of Valentine's Day. We are bombarded with commercials each year showing jewelry, cars, chocolate and bedroom aids. After 20 years of marriage, if the Ferrari/diamond ring combo hasn't showed up by now, I know it is not coming. And besides who buys their special one a car for love day? Where did I go wrong? Does my husband not watch tv?

Nowadays the fun part of Valentine's Day for me is helping my second grader make his heart mailbox to display on his desk to hold his special cards. This year there is a contest in his classroom for the most creative box and he is hoping to win. I really don't have any creative ideas, but as long as I have aluminum foil and a glue gun, we are all good.

It means a lot to me to watch the care he puts into writing out each valentine by hand. His teacher prepares a list of the students' names and he makes sure he writes everyone's name on their card. (It would be much easier to leave the 'to' part blank and just sign the 'from' part.) The spaces are so small that many times the names spill over the side with his big chunky letters, but it is the thought that counts.

There is a little girl in his class who has a crush on him. (Which makes him a little nervous for today.) She told him when he takes his glasses off she has trouble speaking and she cannot concentrate. Wow! These are pretty big emotions for a second grader.

I cannot remember the last time I felt like that. Oh wait, it was last week during the Super Bowl when Adam Levine decided to lose his shirt during his band Maroon 5's performance during the halftime show. To be honest, I was kind of caught off guard sitting there with my family when the show went the Magic Mike direction, but you gotta give the guy credit, he is in good shape and must work out a lot.

I was in second grade when I received my first marriage proposal. A classmate wrote me a note and had our whole future planned out. He just wanted me to write back to let him know my answer. My mom thought it was cute and benign, my dad on the other hand was ready to tar and feather the boy. I never would have expected this same boy, years later in high school, would make my speech impediment part of his daily comedy routine. Good times for sure. But as Spike Jones once sang, "You always hurt the ones you love." Cue the penny whistle.

I guess the message for Valentine's Day should be love is all around. Sorry for the Love Actually reference but, it is - whether it is romantic love, friend love, family love or self love. We can all do something in honor of this special day to share the love. It can be as simple as wearing red, smiling at a stranger, holding the door open for someone or letting the people in your life know they are appreciated and are not taken for granted.

Yes, there are those who will enjoy the grand gesture and get the Ferrari and diamond ring, but for those of us riding in the broken down van with the school holiday shop jewelry turning our fingers green, take a moment to soak in the love. It may not all look the same but the sentiment is...

For those of you who read these blogs each week - I luuurve you too! Happy Valentine's Day!

Put the Pedal to the Metal

Do you remember that feeling you used to get, or still get, while waiting in line to ride a roller coaster? That scared, butterflies in your stomach kind of feeling that makes you want to run as fast as you can far far away from the line and the crowds?

Well, I've been experiencing that feeling every day for the past week. I have started letting my 16-year-old drive to his younger brother's elementary school each day for the afternoon pick up. Prior to last week, the driving lessons have been done exclusively by my husband. He is a patient, very Zen person who is an excellent teacher. I have been on the side lines, for good reason, keeping my emotional, impatient self in the back seat. 

My son got his permit in November and due to the shorter daylight time, lessons have been primarily on the weekends. But I wanted to give him more consecutive driving time so the afternoon pick up seemed logical.

I am not a good teacher, but I try to emulate my husband's calm example, which results in me sounding like an episode of The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross. "Get ready to make a happy little turn." "Make the gas pedal your friend."

I really surprise myself with my calm delivery while uttering phrases like "stop sign" or "slow down". In my head I'm repeating my mantra "How Would Bob Say It?" or "Be like Bob." (I could be referring to the painter or my husband.) The latter helps me because I turn it into a parent competition and I want to be just as good if not better.

For the most part, my son is doing really well. His trouble areas right now seem to be actually starting the car and knowing which direction to cut the wheel when pulling out of the driveway. Both trouble areas manifested themselves on the very first school run. I wanted to order him out of the car right then and there but my mantra "What Would Bob Do?" came into play and with a deep breath I encouraged him to turn the key all the way, cut the wheel to the right and pull out of the driveway. From there his performance was nearly flawless. 

I know that my demeanor has a huge impact on my son's performance. Having kids puts things in perspective for me in terms of analyzing my behavior and how it can affect my kiddos. My little guy has had anxiety each day before going to school this year. Am I sick of dealing with the broken record of "I hate school," "I don't want to go," "My tummy hurts?" Yes, I am. So I have my little freak out in my bedroom before I emerge like Mary Poppins singing songs and using my best distraction tactics to get him out the door.

For my oldest, I know the stakes are a little higher. I know if he senses my stress or trepidation, it could affect his performance on the road, which could result in an accident. Yes, I'll try to keep it in check.

These daily trips have been good therapy for me actually, in being my best most patient self on the outside even though I am going a little crazy on the inside. The other day, I did something my son did not like. I decided to say a prayer before we departed. I meant to start this tradition on the first day of afternoon pick ups but I forgot. So when I told him to bless himself, so I could ask for divine guidance, he said in typical teen fashion, "Wow! Just wow. I must be really bad if we need to start praying before I drive." Obviously this was not my motivation, but I had to smooth things over fast."I'm not so much praying for you as I am praying for the rest of the drivers out there. You know there are quite a few nuts on the road." (Me included.)

He didn't let my spontaneous prayer affect his confidence and once again he did a great job. I try not to really think about the stone cold fact that I am a passenger in a car that my first born is driving - the fact I am old enough to have a teen in a car driving - that one day he will ask to use our car....

I have heard from others that this process does get easier. (By the time my youngest is learning to drive, I'll have been through the teen driving experience twice, so I'm sure I'll be cool as a cucumber.) But as of now, we have 50+hours to clock before getting a driver's license can even be discussed. We have parallel parking to conquer, night driving and the three point turn. 

As Bob Ross once said, "Talent is a pursued interest. Anything you’re willing to practice, you can do.” My son will keep practicing driving and I will keep practicing patience. Yes, there will be bumps along the road but I hope when he looks back on this time he will someday realize the conscious effort I made to be the best imitation of myself - not the me I am, but the me he needed.   

Grampy giving one-year-old Nick his first driving lesson.