Thai Beef Soup for the Week

3 boxes (96 oz) Low Sodium Beef Broth
2 tbsp oil
1lb Sirloin Steak, fat trimmed off, sliced thin
4 garlic cloves, crushed NOT chopped
2 stalks celery , sliced diagonally into inch-long pieces
2 scallions or  half a red onion , thinly sliced
10 oz bag of frozen BROCCOLI STIR FRY veggies (I like Birds Eye Brand)
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
4 tablespoons fish sauce
2 tablespoons white vinegar (or rice vinegar)
1 tablespoon dried red pepper flakes (optional)
12 oz of Angel Hair pasta (organic if possible, less starchy)
 1 cup fresh bean sprouts
1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves , chopped
1/2 cup fresh onion chives, chopped
Chop sticks!!!! <-- it tastes sooo much better with chop sticks lol

Directions:
1. Before starting the soup..Boil noodles, drain and RINSE and set aside... let them get cold... its ok.
2. Using a large soup pot ...fry beef strips in oil until brown.
3. Remove the browned strips, leaving the oil and juice in the pot.
4. Add garlic, scallions and celery to oil and fry, stirring often.
5. Add 32oz of the beef broth to the pot, season with fish sauce, pepper, vinegar and cinnamon.
6. Bring soup to a calm boil, add Kale and frozen veggies... (kale takes about 7 mins to wilt... eyeball it... and stir occasionally)
7. Once Kale has wilted turn burner on simmer, toss the beef strips back in and cover until your ready for dinner.

How to Serve.
1. Get a soup bowl (cereal size bowl) and first add about 1/3 cup of cold noodles,  a hearty pinch of bean sprouts and ladle on the hot soup.
2. Garnish with chopped cilantro and chives.

 Great Dinner to make for a Sunday Night and have left overs for lunch or a quick dinner throughout the week.

You can add the noodles, cilantro and chives to the soup to store left overs. However keep bean sprouts out of the soup until your ready to eat, otherwise they lose their crunchy texture and they don't stay fresh very long.

Prep Time and Cook time Approx 20 mins
Serves 8-10 Large Servings

Thai Beef Soup

Entering Heaven @ 4am

I can't remember what I heard first, was it the crying, sniffling and familar voices saying "I'll miss you" or was it the bells jingling from a coffee store door.

I wasn't drinking coffee though... I found myself staring down at a pair of wrinkly hands holding a fine china cup of hot black tea. I know that was the first thing I saw.

I'm not sure how to describe it... but I felt confused, worried and anxious.

A young strong hand reached out from across the table and touched mine. I almost jumped out of my seat when I looked up and saw my husband, Michael, smiling at me. He looked different somehow, but just as handsome as ever. He leaned back to relax in his big comfy chair and asked "what do you think?"

I wasn't sure. I looked down at my wrinkled hands. "Are these my hands?" I thought. Sure enough the scar on my left thumb was there... and so was that pale little freckle I have on the inside of palm on my wedding finger.

I suddenly became terrified. I started worrying... "where is my son Jamie?"... "If Mike is here then who is watching him?"... I started worrying about my family and friends, my health, where I was. I started worrying about everything... even housework and my leaving the stove on. It was overwhelming.

Before I could ask a my husband a single question I large group of old Irish men came strolling in. Michael perked up in his seat and waved them over. They were so loud... laughing, joking and carrying on like a group of teenagers. While I sat there, still trying to figure out how my hands had managed to warp into my grandmothers, Michael was carrying on and laughing with the old men. I looked up and waited for Michael to introduce me to his friends, but he didn't... so unlike him.
 
As I waited for an opportunity to introduce myself I began to notice that it seemed to appear as if no one could see me. It was about this time that I realized I couldn't see color, nor could I focus on anything more than about 7 feet away.

Then I caught the eyes of one of the old men. He was keeping his distance, but he was shyly smiling at me... he was trying to pretend he couldn't see me, but I swear he could. He looked familar, but I couldn't place him... he was tall and broad, his round hazel eyes were poking out through his thick old Irish-man eyebrows. I couldn't place him and it was driving me nuts. Just has I became to feel overwhelmed by curiousity to know this man's name, the old men took turns giving Michael a big hug and waundered off. "Michael doesn't hug many people," I thought. "strange."

Michael could tell I was frustrated. " I bet you have a lot of questions" he asked. I nodded, however when I went to speak nothing would come out. He seemed to anticipate this and reached for my hand again, "when your ready, love". I nodded.

We sat there for a while before Michael stood up and handed me a coat. As we exited the shoppe I slowly began to make out the color of autumn leaves on the gravel path and the more I looked around, more came into focus. Finally I could see where we were going. There was a large wooden cabin-like home up a head, warm amber light pouring out of every window.

Michael opened the door for me and before I entered he leaned in and whispered, "take a deep breath."

The moment I crossed the threshold a great gust of wind came up from behind me and was pressing all the air inside me out and began to push me. I saw flashes of my wedding, the day my son was born, my mother pressing a cool clothe on my fevered head, Christmas parties (that I don't remember having happened), riding my bike with my father, family portraits, faces, kisses, hugs, dancing in the rain, bonfires with friends, laughing, smiling... everything that ever brought me comfort and joy flashed before me. Then it all faded away.

I could hear versions of myself talking, one voice, then 2, then what sounded like a thousand. I heard myself apologizing for being selfish, for the times I didn't stand up when I should have, taking blessings and people for granted, for not doing as much as I should, for walking away, for being passive and afraid... I heard all my failures, shame and guilt pouring out of me. Things that I had forgot, secrets I had locked up and carried with me through life.

And then it all became clear. I knew I had died. I knew my judgement day had come.

Hearing myself confess, remembering every pain I had caused, rehashing all my failures. I felt small, fragile and worthless.I would say I heard a voice calling out to me, but it was more like I felt, the voice asking me if I wanted to be forgiven.... the guilt of my short comings and failures overwhelmed me. The voice asked again.  Without hesitation I whimpered "yes".

Then I felt God. I felt a joy that overwhelmed me so much so that I cried... no, not cried sobbed. 

A gust of wind blew through me again, this time it didn't push me... it carried me... I literally felt as light as a feather. As I drifted the sorrow faded and the joy returned, I could feel it growing. I glided along and landed inside the wood cabin.

This time I could see everything! I could see smiles from across the room, the color on people's faces and when my smiling husband approached me I could say "I love you." We laughed and carried on about what we thought of heaven, made jokes about the lack of puffy clouds and people with wings.

Strangers in the house approached me one by one. "I'm your great grandfather, I would have loved to have met you Katherine.".... "I'm your great great great great great grandmother, you have my hair, no doubt!"

Suddenly, I saw the group of old Irish men from the coffee house walking towards me. I was so excited to know who they were, especially the old man with the famliar smile. The men came in close with hugs, landing kisses on my check left and right... while there was plenty of laughter no one spoke. Then the old Irish man with the bushy eyebrows and hazel eyes, leaned in and gave me a big long hug, "I'm so happy to see you mom."

I stood there shocked! "I'm sorry, what?"

I looked him in the eyes, it was my son Jamie. I turned to Mike, hysterical...tears in my eyes. "NO NO NO".... "he shouldn't be here yet!"..."did I bury my son and forget?!"

Jamie grabbed me with hands so wrinkled and worn they made my prune hands look young. He smiled and then let out a big rumbling laugh, like his father does, and shook his head at me.

"Mom, I'm fine. I lived to be an old, old man...much longer than I should of actually... I'm here with you always, I have been here always and so has everyone else you see here."

"Then how are you here!"

"You are in heaven now Mom, time is a human limitation... you are in God's heaven, that limitation does not exist here."

Before I could stop the water works, Jamie turned and introduced me to two other old men in the group and explained that these were my sons as well. Then pointed to five other old men in the group and explained there were my grandsons, then he introduced me to my GREAT GREAT GRAND SONS. I couldn't believe it! It was amazing.

I woke up at 4:32am trembling with my face in a wet, tear soaked pillow. I wasn't sure where I was now until I saw Michael there sleeping next to me. Snoring away.

That morning I was terrified when I woke up. I don't know anyone that likes dreaming about when they die, espeically when they are young and have a 12 month old at home. But after a couple days of rehashing this dream through my memory, I began to find comfort, not in the thought of death so much, but in the afterlife.

Normally my attitude on the afterlife is "Guess, I'll have to wait and see." But I woke up convinced that I saw it.

Of course, I realize it was just a dream... I dream of Transformer Robots trying to attack me while I fold laundry in a women's bathroom of a skyscraper in New York City in the year 2260...(thats a dream for another day). But as me and my family discuss trips to visit my 85-year-old grandfather in the hospital and what the near future holds for him and his health, I suppose my subconscious as been working over time on the "afterlife".

I've heard people express their concern before "how could I enjoy heaven without my children, spouse or family there with me?" And I heard it discussed that God is  not restricted to "our understanding of time".  But I thought it was interesting how the two intersected in my dream last week. 

I suppose I have mixed feelings about losing my grandfather. Sure he is old, anyone would feel lucky to have lived to 85, raise their family, play with grandchild, meet GREAT grand children, I hope I get to be as lucky... but sometimes I feel like he's afraid to leave us. He's a fighter and he is fighting hard.

I wish there was more we could do to comfort him. I wish I could let him know it's going to be okay. That he won't be in pain and, according to this dream, he will be far from alone.

Please keep him in your prayers.

My Review of Peel-And-Stick Vinyl Tile Squares

Originally submitted at Brylane Home

The quick and easy way to transform dingy cement, wood, linoleum and vinyl floors, adding rich texture and color.  Twenty 12" square tiles cover 20 sq. ft.; trim to fit. Spot clean and vacuum.
Vinyl Tile Squares - High-gloss, no-wax finish for years of carefree service...

Peel-And-Stick Vinyl Tile Squares

WONDERFUL

By Get it done while baby naps from Tampa, FL on 11/17/2011

 

5out of 5

Pros: Dries Quickly, Easy To Clean, Great Material, Attractive Design, Easy to Install, Wonderful Value

Best Uses: Bathroom

Describe Yourself: Beginner

I was SO very nervous to order this product. It was the most inexpensive one I could find anywhere (online and around town) but I took a chance on it... WONDERFUL. I "installed" it in my hall bathroom in one afternoon while my son took a nap(1hour) The material was a good weight and is the perfect thickness..easy to work with, cuts with a good pair of scissors. I placed these peel and stick tiles on top of our terrazzo bathroom floors. Looks GREAT feels GREAT! Went from NERVOUS BEGINNER to HAPPY DO IT YOURSELF MOM!!! Great deal.

Tags: Picture of Product, Made with Product, Using Product

(legalese)

Life 101 - A refresher course

Jamie & I playing around.

hile I stay home on weekdays with Jamie... some weekends Michael and I switch. He stays home with our son and I pick up a couple shifts back at my old job at a meat market.

Originally I went back to work in August as to stash away some extra cash for the upcoming holidays and to spend sometime out of the house...but I discovered that working part time out of the house has done quite a bit for my husband and I.

 Going back to work was not a decision I took lightly. Michael is the oldest of eight and when we came home for the hospital with our son, he knew more about baby care then I did. He is wonderful with our son. But if you have a child, you know... leaving them, even with your spouse can be stressful, at first.

Secondly, this was the job I had worked while in college. It was a fun job, I worked with fun people and enjoyed the diversity of simple activities there was to do... but like any simple, redundant job kids do during their summers away from school... its all fun and games and then you think to yourself at the end of a 50 hour work week on your feet..."I HAVE TO finish college, I couldn't stand to do this EVERYDAY forEVER!" Not to mention "how will I ever survive on this pay?!".

Yes, working throughout college had a much stronger "intrinsic" value to me.

Thirdly, and this was the big one.... I have finished college.... as I like to say, I have finished college twice. After earning a Bachelors Degree and then a Masters and having worked in my career field... then to have a baby and go back to my college summer job was at first... VERY humbling.

While a majority of the customers I serve at work are friendly, personable or civil... I, like anyone in the field of customer service, meet a batch of "rotten-egg" customers. Personally, I don't mind the customers who aren't chatting or don't smile... its this other brand of people I have discovered. The "elitist".

There have only been a few and many "seem" to have "good" intentions....but when I encounter one, its a little life reminder for me; to not take myself so seriously, to remember how unattractive it to be so full of pride, narcissistic and judgmental towards others. And to remember to not catalog people so easily.

While these few customers are difficult to listen to...recently, I have come to enjoy them in my own strange way. I find a sense of humor in watching a man's face morph from pompous to shame when he stands at the counter lecturing me on how a woman like me "should be in school, improving and educating herself", reminding me to "get married before I 'bake one in my oven'", "to use condoms to avoid mistakes" and "to travel the world, not just get married and get tied down all to quick".

The transition a man's face makes between pompous to confusion to shame is remarkable to witness.

And it happens as I say (ever so politely and without a hint of sarcasm) that I have been married for 2 years and I have a 8 month old son, I have visited over 20 countries and when I find I doctorate program I like perhaps I will consider furthering my education and that I don't believe any child is  a mistake.... (insert smile)... "Have a great weekend, sir!".

After a long day ... sometimes the house comes last. lol

Working part time has also provided me with with another perspective, to truly appreciate how hard my husband works for our family. If you are a stay at home mom you can relate to feeling of "nothing is ever done"; the dishes, the laundry, paying the bills, making bottles, the feedings, the burp-ings, the cleaning, the budgeting..... it can feel like its never-ending... because it is never ending!

I enjoy clocking out at work, leaving a clean store, everything I needed to get done today... accomplished!

But coming home after a long day to a husband has been in the house all day with a laundry basket full of clothes he never got the chance to fold, a baby in the high chair to distracted to eat his dinner and floor covered in "baby puff snacks" can be a little overwhelming at times. Instead of it causing arguments and annoyances, surprisingly, it has helped Michael and I respect each other's roles by providing us with the other person's perspective.

When the baby is finally asleep and the house is straightened up we sit on the porch and talk about our day.Michael, who works the weekdays, usually is bummed he missed out on baby time...but on weekend nights he is excited the baby is asleep peacefully in his crib and apologizes he forgot to cook dinner. Since I stay home with Jamie full time usually my porch conversation is a relay of Jamie's day and how I wish the baby had been a better mood so I could have gotten my shopping done and finished the laundry but instead I apologize that I'm home later than I thought I would be and vent about weird customers.

My little mess making machine!

Of course, we miss having all our weekends together to spend as a family, but for now I feel as if we are killing two birds with one stone. It was difficult for me to walk away from teaching to stay home full time. I liked teaching, but I knew I would feel regret later if I didn't take advantage of the opportunity to stay home, raise our son, get us settled in our new home. I also knew that while I had such a young child at home I would not be able to be the teacher, the wife, the mother, the friend or the person I wanted to be if I attempted to do it all.

I believe women can do it all. Millions of women around the world prove this everyday! But I don't believe women should feel forced to do it all. If my family needed to me to go back to work full time, I would. But while this opportunity for me to stay home exists I want to try to take advantage of it. And more importantly I want to appreciate it and enjoy it.

I never would have imagined that working 10-18hrs on a weekend would provide so much insight for me.

It seems as if the idea of women staying home to raise their children is a thing of the past, something I thought I would be able to do without any hesitation or resistance but it is work!!! Work that doesn't pay bills, there is no manager to ask for direct instructions for a difficult task, there is no number to call in to as to request the day off or to report that you will running late, work that NEVER ends, work that there are no sick days or vacation days and work that no one is around you all day to see that you are accomplishing everything that you are. It is truly a job that you as the parent have to believe is best for your family. And it is MUCH easier said then done.

GTG, baby is up!

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I'm a "Grown Up"... drop the quotations.

I have been experiencing a rude awakening lately. Or maybe I should call it a reality check, a harsh reality check. I feel I am coming to term with my age. Currently I am only twenty-six years old and it's not that I'm feeling "old" but I have begun to not feel so "young".

When I was in second grade, I would admire the thirteen-year-old eighth graders and think to myself... "when I'm in 8th grade, I'll be a grown up." Once I entered 8th grade I realized how foolish  that was and I would adjust my thinking ... "when I graduate high school, thats when I'll be 'grown up'." At the end of high school I, again found myself laughing at myself, I adjusted my thinking again... "when I finish college."

Needless to say this "I'm a grown-up cut off date" has been rewritten numerous time since then. It has come to include "when I finished grad school, when I'm married, when I get out of Steubenville, when I get a real job..etc" And I have to say I have finally hit the marker.

Baby Jamie

"When I have a baby."

That's the one.

When Jamie was born I knew it. There was no more pushing the "grown up" milestone back. Not because I didn't want to, but because the feeling I had been waiting for had finally hit. There was no mistaking it. Of course this all probably sounds pretty foolish but whether or not you have ever thought about the end of your childhood I have to admit a certain amount of mourning and reflection takes place.

For me... this year, so far, has caused me to reflect on my childhood in so many ways.

Strangely enough I didn't put any thought into the subject when I first had Jamie. Probably because I was so exhausted from the move across country, the new job, nine months of pregnancy, 48 hours in labor, 5 days in NICU and the three months of midnight and early morning feedings. It was this summer when it all hit me... and the trigger... oddly enough, was the release of the last Harry Potter movie.

Ok, ok, I know what you are thinking. Really?!!? Harry Potter?!

"Grown Up" Harry and Ginny Potter

I started reading Harry Potter when I was fourteen. Not that I am by any means an avid reader, but Harry Potter  was the first book I really got excited about reading everyday, the first book I would choose to stay up and read rather than sleeping (and if you know me at all... you know I LOVE sleeping). If it wasn't for the horrendously funny portrayal of Harry and cast dressed to be in their 40's as the last scene, I'm sure I would have sobbed rather than laughed uncontrollably.


Then came September 11th. The 10th Anniversary of September 11th. I watched 9/11 happen from my high school sophomore classroom. At the time concerned for the people killed and their families, worried for my country, my friends considering enlistment after high school and the war that was to most likely to follow these attacks. I remember thinking "my friends will be fighting this war."

Welcome Home Party for my cousin
whom spent a year deployed in the Middle East.
He was only 12-years-old on 9/11/01.

This September, ten years later, I watched the news' memorial service and felt a very different level of...well...sadness. I thought of all those who have sacrificed their lives, sacrificed their husbands, sons, daughters, wives, mothers, fathers and friends. People who sacrificed years of their lives, their mental well being and time with their families to protect us. I thought of my husband, who is in the National Guard, my son and what the future holds for him.

I thought of the other side... the mothers in the Middle East watching this all unfold first hand while they raised their children. I remember being overwhelmed, turning off the TV and looking at Jamie in my lap sucking down his afternoon bottle before nap time and thinking "there is a woman over there feeding her son who does not have the luxury of turning off the violence with the click of a button."

Papa and I - December 2008

This month my 85 year old grandfather is in the hospital. He has been diagnosed with congenital heart failure. While his body has aged significantly, mentally he is still very sharp. When I visit him he is talkative, reactive and very familiar. Just like when I was a child he shares stories of growing up in New York City in the 1930's. The navy boats he toured in the harbor, the planes he would see fly over head. He talks about what life was like as an orphan during the depression.
 He describes the places he traveled to around Europe during World War II. He rarely ever tells us anything about the conflicts he participated in, even though we know there were many. He attempts to get us interested in all the Navy ships he has studied, the planes, jets and air craft carriers he's seen and when we can't relate he shares stories about working at the JFK airport as a Port Authority      
                                                                                      officer.

He has been sharing stories of his life with me ever since I can remember and while I know he leaves out a great deal of experiences I still have yet to hear a re-run. A life time of stories, a life time a events, experiences, encounters, moments, thoughts and discoveries. He only married once and has six children, eleven grandchildren and two great grandsons. Such a full life.

Three Generations. Baby James, Poppa & Great Papa

My husband stayed home from work so I could avoid taking Jamie to the hospital to see Papa. After talking with an 85-year-old man for 3 hours to come home and see my 7 month old son... it was overwhelming. I kept repeating it over and over again in my mind... "They are 85 years apart!"

Between spending time with the two of them...time... seems to take on a whole new meaning. Life seems to take on a whole new meaning, as well.

Dear Cousin, sister in law & FUS Freshmen,

I wanted to write you, to warn you. I want to warn you that you are about to meet some REALLY weird people. You are about to hear people say some REALLY weird shit. You are about to see some REALLY weird things.

I wanted to warn you that you are about to experience the most amazing 4 years of your life.

If your scared. You should be. But NOT for the reasons listed below.

FUS "The Circle"

In my first month at FUS I was always in a horrible mood. Maybe it was because my roommate woke up at 4am, turned on all the lights to read "the God-given scripture". As if that justified her scheduling the crack of dawn 3 hours before God intended.

While in mass, I had someone repeatedly hit me in the back of the head, as she was praising God so hard with her palms up and out, and worse over, she was so engulfed in her praising I couldn't get her attention to make her stop.

Numerous times, I heard people exchange stories about them "speaking in tongues" and some claiming that after a serious prayer session they had levitated.

Hanging out in Tommy

I also remember girls approaching me at random saying "Remember not to show off the four B's."  At the time I had NO idea what the were talking about.

The two dates I had been brave enough to go on my first semester, both ending up asking me the questions, "how many children would be interested in having, what are your political views and do you want to go pray with me outside the abortion clinic in Pittsburgh on Saturday?"

I called my mom repeatedly... "I am not Catholic!"

Karaoke Night

I truly felt that way. There was no relating to these people. I didn't do the things they did and at the time I did not want to be associated with them or any of it. Therefore, I was NOT Catholic!

Sure I attempted to make friends. For the most part it seemed a bit hopeless. I had come from a small private school, where things like drinking and snorting coke was many people's idea of a good time, so when a girl from down the hall invited me to go out with her for a "good time"... I was surprised.
 Friday night came and she led me to the tennis courts beside the dorms..... and explained to me what frisbee-golf was.

I thought she was joking.

Not that I was ever interested in doing drugs... but really? I was 19. I remember thinking..."I'm too old for this crap!"

FL girl - First time in the snow

About three months in my fall semester I met a group of girls that made it all tolerable. We acted as each other's support. For me it was perfect. It still didn't shield me from all of it but when I was overwhelmed by it all I could take a break with one of them. Even though it was a sorority, it was NOT your typical sorority. Sure we went out drinking, dancing and for karaoke. But a majority of our time was spent in similar ways as the majority of people on campus doing simple things. Not frisbee-golf but...

In my first couple semesters at FUS I attempted to play guitar, piano and the harmonica. A friend taught me how to crochet a scarf, make a snow man and make your own cigarettes to save money. As a group we attended campus events and even held some of our own. I taught girls how to braid hair and cook.

I had no idea that it would be this small group of girls and that school that would mold me so much.

And I'm sure none of us did it on purpose. For a while I thought maybe it happened because the school is in a small town, but I know other schools that are in small towns that are just party schools. Eventually I decided that it had to happen at FUS and for me, it had to happen with this sorority.

Dancing in the Trevie Fountain in Rome, Italy '05

My first semester at FUS, I was so disappointed. I had spent one year at a "real college" and while I didn't have the time, the money or the balls to go out and get drunk or stoned, it "felt" like college... which in turn made me feel like I had "grown up". Now I was at this school where campus parties were full of bibles, youth group guitar music and even people playing tag or frisbee all the time.

I felt like I went from college to Christian Summer camp.

I would explain this frustration to my senior sorority sisters and they would say "I know what you mean, but trust me... it gets better." Secretly, I figured they were crazy people as well. lol

When in Rome.

It wasn't until my second year at FUS that it all began to make sense. I attended the European Study Aboard Program with 120 fellow students. I won't give you every detail but, at some point I just let go. I sat in the 400 year old chapel on campus and prayed and then....I stopped fighting them.

I just let them have it. I didn't question them, try to explain, rationalize it and even try to understand them. I knew some of them HAD to be that religious or they would fall apart, but others were just that into God and the Church and they were just that happy!

It was those people I began to form a curiosity with... and eventually even friendships.

Volunteering @ LAMP with the Bishop of Steubenville

I showed them that people who liked to drink, smoke and even used the occasional profanity in common conversation weren't demons. They in turn showed me that people who started their mornings with Mass, prayed before every meal and ended their evenings with adoration, weren't praying to God to keep them on the straight and narrow or to keep themselves on a pedestal away from the everyday person, but were doing it out of love.


I thought I knew what love was. I thought I knew what worship was. I thought I knew God. They showed me there was more. And while I never truly advanced my faith in the ways they did, I began to experience it in my own time and in my own ways letting God and the Church lead. Slowly.

My View from my '08 Graduation

As an adult today, double alumni of FUS (BA and MS degree), wife,mother, home owner, homemaker, part time employee and Catholic... I look back and thank FUS and its students and faculty.

Firstly, for putting up with my stubbornness and impatience. But more so, for reminding me that at 19 I wasn't "grown up". Sure I was an adult by legal standards, but I was far from being done with "growing".

Looking back, I find myself as any adults see the younger version of themselves ...foolish. I laugh about it now. Sure I remember the amazing classes, lectures and presentations that I attended to earn my degrees... but what is more vivid and memorable are the lessons on love.

Love for my peers and love for God. And if any of you are lucky enough to experience the Austrian Study Program you will SURELY learn how to love life in all its forms. I learned that love is a choice and if you don't know love that way, stay at FUS and you will.

As you begin your college journey at FUS. I can't help but find myself envious. I'm not saying it is going to be easy. But as college courses will soon demonstrate...REAL learning is NEVER easy.

June2009, My FUS friends and me... On my wedding day

Hopefully, you won't be as stubborn, impatient or as judgmental as I was. But, even if you are... you will notice what I did, that the love that dominates over FUS' campus will not cease. Another lesson in itself, I suppose.

My advice... be patient. Don't give up on people but take your time. Remember to pray, even if you do it in private (as to avoid being beaten in Mass) and smile, even if its just a little smile every now and then.

Many people find love to be scary and overwhelming. I never really considered myself one of those people, but perhaps I was.

And.... enjoy! Your life is going to be completely flipped upside down whether you like it or not. But that is just the nature of life... it is always changing. As an adult you have the responsibility and opportunity to decide how you would like your life altered, for better or worse.

My husband, also an FUS alum and I

This University is going to teach you something in a couple years that many people spend their whole lives trying to figure out. Its a big, hard, complicated lesson... the sooner you learn it, the better off you'll be.

"What is Love?"

I will end with a quote from St. Catherine of Siena. It sums up what college life, FUS life and life is general is about. Not to mention she was a tight buddy of St Francis and the patron Saint of my sorority.

"Nothing great is ever achieved without much enduring" - St. Catherine of Siena.

Decide how you want to endure.

Congratulations on your first day of Orientation... FUS Class of 2015.

PS> The phrase "remember not to show your Four-B's" means... "remember not show off your Back, Belly, Boobs or Butt."