"Swimming" with Stella

Stella was diagnosed with hip dysplasia a few years back. Thankfully, the daily joint supplement seems to keep her on the straight and narrow (so to speak). Eight weeks ago, Sophie was diagnosed with a luxating patella. The vet prescribed rest and weight loss. HUH? If you could lose weight while resting I would be thinner than Kate Moss. Apparently the only way for Sophie to lose weight is through aquatic therapy. Immediately, visions of Sophie in a bathing cap and tutu performing synchronized swimming with her sister danced in my head. How wrong was I?

Sophie took to it like a fish to water once she got comfortable. Sophie will basically do anything to please us. That is why she is my little love bug. Stella, however, is a different story. She is stubborn and rarely does anything to please anyone but herself. She is my little apathetic cuddler and I adore that she marches to her own beat. (I don't know where she gets that from.)

So Stella took to the pool like a cat to a bath. Panicky, stoic and refusing to move. It was as if she had turned to stone. Once she was moved off the steps, (not of her own free will) she was like a frog in the pool and she had one goal and one goal only. No, it was not to please her proud parents who were saying supportive and loving things. It was to get back to the step and get the heck out of this oversized bathtub.

After surviving such trauma, Paul bought a series of 10 visits. For Sophie AND Stella. Without a professional's help. He thought it would go a lot better if we were in the pool with them next time. No, there will not be video of that. And yes, I will be swimming with Sophie. Stella can be "daddy's girl" that day.

Better Late Than Never

When I was little, I loved to dance. My mom often jokes that I was dancing as soon as I was walking. She started me with tap and ballet when I was 4 and I continued to dance over the next 11 years. My line competed all over the mid-Atlantic region and I was in 10+ routines during our ridiculous 5 show recitals at the end of the year. How did my mother ever sit through all that? (and yes, there are videos, and no, you can't see them.)

As I mentioned before, my dad loves to golf. When I was little I thought I would like to golf with him. So one year, after my Linda Natoli Dance Recital, when all of the other dads showed up with flowers, my dad showed up with something I had been coveting. A pink and grey golf bag. He bought it for his dancing daughter who wasn't yet ready to commit to golf. But he bought it as a hope, a wish, a support and a dream.

Fast forward to yesterday, 20+ years later. My dad and I had the best day. I hadn't picked up a club in 2 years, but I did OK. And today, he gave me a gift like he had all of those years ago, he emailed to tell me he was researching golf instructors and would treat me to two lessons.

Why after all of this complaining do I still want to golf? Three reasons. One, I think I could be pretty good if I practiced. Two, I like the challenge the game poses for me. Three, it means lots of time I can spend with my dad doing what he loves. That is the ultimate reason golf is on my bucket list - I can share it with my dad. It is the gift he has given me - even if it has taken 20+ years to realize it.

Why are Golf Shoes so Ugly?

So I don't golf. I own clubs. I own a hat. Until recently, I owned a pair of shoes. But I don't golf. It frustrates the heck out of me and the only 2 people who could ever keep me calm on a golf course were my brother and my father. For some reason, their patience and reassurance always put me at ease.

My dad is a good golfer. Steady, consistent, loves the sport. I think he is probably happiest on the golf course. So once a year, I dust off the clubs and play with my dad. I moan, groan and complain but secretly I love every second of it. It's awesome father/daughter time.

To be honest, I dream of golfing regularly. The stupid sport just intimidates me so much. I have no upper body strength (circuit training will soon fix that!) and feel like for every time my dad swings a club, I swing twice.

So you can imagine what a huge leap it is for me to agree to pay in a tournament with colleagues. I texted my dad and asked him what I had to do to be ready in 3 weeks. His response? "Visit the driving range twice, play 9 holes with me and practice drinking beer." I've got 1 of those 3 tasks covered!

So today I went to buy new golf shoes because I lost one of mine in the move. I was really upset - I loved those shoes and, in case you don't know, golf shoes are hideous. Why can't Giuseppe Zanotti or Christian Laboutin design them? Michael Kors or BCBG? I'd even settle for Steve Madden! Unfortunately they don't, so I am stuck. Plain, white, pink-trimmed Footjoy in a size 8 for me. They are comfy but I am convinced they make my feet look humongous. I don't know that for sure because there weren't any mirrors to look at when trying them on. Dick's Sporting Goods should take a lesson from DSW!

Tomorrow I'm going to the driving range and to play 9 with my dad... in my ugly shoes. Wish me luck!

Change Your Hair, Change Your Life!

There is a running joke among the people I see a few times a year during my travels. As soon as they see me they see things like, "you've changed your hair again!", "I didn't even know it was you until I got close enough to see your face...", "did you change your hair again?", etc. etc.

I have had the misfortune to not only have 2 fabulous stylists since I was around 23, but to also be able to call them friend. Therefore, I trust them as a stylist and, more importantly, as my friend. I mean, it's their job to make me look good. And have you ever noticed that stylists only hang out with beautiful people?

They say a man has gone through a break-up when he shaves his goatee and a woman when she cuts her hair. You can never judge what's going on with me through my hair because I change it every 6 to 8 weeks. Well, I'd love to chat more, but I'm off to the salon!

Here's to Victoria and Betsy. Thanks for many years of helping me look fresh!

Do You Feel the Love?

After traveling for 5 weeks, I have to admit that Mother's Day really snuck up on me this year. We had taken Grace and Jerry to Pinehurst for Easter weekend, which was really nice, and I had given her a massage for an early Mom's day gift; but I still wanted to so something special for Grace. So she came over to spend the night, drink wine, eat great food, play with the girls and get waited on hand and foot. I have to admit, we really do love spoiling her when she comes over. She has sacrificed so much for me over the years...

Anyway, halfway during her first glass of wine on the porch, she looked at me and said, "You know, Melissie, you aren't nearly as high maintenance as you used to be."

Moms. They really can make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside... Now go pour your own glass of wine.

Road Warrior

It is a beautiful Saturday morning and I'm home, home, home. I've been on the road for a few weeks... Greenville, Cleveland, New Orleans, Greensboro. Coming up are St. Pete and New Bern. It is so sweet when people seem sympathetic about all of my traveling; despite the fact that it is the very basis for how I earn a living.

Now, having acknowledged that this is my job, I must admit that it does get draining. Many Sunday afternoons and Friday nights spent in airports. Lots of early mornings and late nights. Believe me, it is not all glamor. Therefore, it is important to splurge on things that make you look and feel good. This week I was pampered with a manicure, pedicure, and later today, a facial. Paul thinks these are luxuries; however, spending so much time in dry hotels and at 30,000 feet, I think they are necessities.

My brand new Italian made hand-painted shoes shown above, however, that's the luxury. As Paul said, "you spent more on these shoes than we did at Costco last weekend..." You bet I did! These will last way longer than the TP and paper towels! I think of them as an investment.