Wrinkles of Life Add Meaning

My birthday party was over, so I released the remaining balloon off the deck of the beautiful Oahe Ranch overlooking the Missouri River. As I watched it float away the writing on the balloon struck me for the first time.

40! That balloon said 40.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed harassing all of my siblings and many friends on their 40^th birthdays. Grim Reapers, wheel chairs, Rogaine, Viagra -- I delighted in every “Over the Hill” cliché I could find.

So, as my 40^th birthday approached, I expected to feel some dread or sadness. Oddly enough, I’m amazed to realize I’m completely fine with it.

Don’t get me wrong -- the drawbacks of aging are undeniable. My back and neck ache from the slightest change of pillow or chair. I have to die my hair back to its natural color at much more frequent intervals. And I find myself buying goops and potions that promise to keep me young.

But these physical challenges and the passing of my youth aren’t at the top of my mind. What I’m noticing are the benefits of growing older.

I have much greater clarity about my strengths and weaknesses and what value I might add to this world. I still don’t have a sheet of goals or a “bucket list” for middle age, but I think I understand where and how I might make a difference.

This clarity comes in handy for prioritizing tasks and making choices. I can embrace new projects that fit my values and say “no” with much less guilt.

Similarly, gone are the grandiose expectations of youth that I must be good at everything I touch. At 40, I’m much better at celebrating the good and the gifts in others than I was at age 30 or even 35. Rather than doing everything myself, I can recognize when to hire or delegate someone better to do it.

I might suffer from more back aches today, but my backbone is much stronger. I’m not afraid to stand up for things that matter to me, even when it isn’t fashionable or popular or the same as other people whose opinion counts.

That’s nice too – realizing whose opinion counts and being able to ignore those who don’t.

But one of the most amazing gifts of age is the depth it gives to relationships. My husband and I invited some friends to join us last weekend for a birthday party. These people drove from far and wide and arranged care for dozens of children to attend -- a touching expression of friendship.

As I looked around the room, I saw people who stood by me at high school graduation, at college parties, or on the alter at our wedding. We have celebrated new life, sobbed at death, and laughed ourselves to tears on many occasions.

We aren’t as pretty as we once were. Like the Velveteen Rabbit, our hair has worn off in places and our bodies are getting lumpy. But these people and other dear friends and family are real, and the history I have with them is precious.

Relationships are the most fulfilling part of life, and the passing of time adds amazing color to relationships we share. This is perhaps the greatest gift of growing older.

Our culture is obsessed with physical beauty and staying young, but like so many cultural promises, this too is an empty one.

The clarity, experience and meaningful relationships that come with age are far more valuable. Worth every wrinkle.

Palin May Prove a Good Pick

Conventional wisdom received a hearty hip-check last week from a young governor and hockey mom of five who comes not from a swing state, but one that is rural and remote.

Governors, with their executive experience and budget background, have long-been desirable candidates for VP. Let’s consider a few of the additional qualities this young mother will bring to the job.

Work Ethic: Five children, including an infant. Demanding executive job. Political career. This woman has a master’s degree in multi tasking and must not need sleep. She already works around the clock, so Washington’s time demands will be nothing new.

Negotiating skills: Law school breeds good arguers and debaters – people who know how to work the system because they designed it. People who don’t like to lose.

On the other hand, compromising and negotiating are survival skill for moms. Convincing a young child to be quiet in church or a teenager to be respectful – this is an art. So is knowing when not to negotiate. Never negotiate with a terrorist, especially one disguised as a two-year-old throwing a tantrum.

Patience and Persistence: Bad behavior, at home or in government, isn’t going to change overnight. Small, consistent steps forward can produce dramatic long-term results. Eliminating earmarks might not be possible in one year, but they can be gradually phased out. Good things take time.

Moderation: Too much TV, Intranet, video games and junk food can corrupt the mind. The same is true in Washington. Too many parties, perks, special interests, money and prestige can corrupt the leader. We need leaders who are willing to take on the power establishment in Washington like Palin did with Big Oil in Alaska.

I was among the throngs of people who initially dismissed Sarah Palin as too inexperienced. Now I’m among those who are cheering her entrance into this race.

Washington has armies of people who hold the law degrees, the MBAs, the decades of business and political experience that supposedly provides the proper background for a leadership. Yet our government today is a mess.

Maybe it’s time to consider a candidate like Palin who has a different set of credentials. Someone who is serving in one of our nation’s highest executive offices with the overwhelming approval of the people who elected her, and still embraces her experiences as a mother, a PTO member and mayor of a small town.

The unapologetic way in which Sarah Palin combines active motherhood and a successful political career is an entirely new model for women, made possible through a strong partnership with her husband Todd. Feminists are deriding her pro-life example – this is not who they want shattering the glass ceiling. Yet Palin offers a compelling new vision for embracing family and work.

Many Americans applauded her persona and speech at the Republican convention because she gave voice to a basic conservative philosophy that has been lost in recent years. Lost in the spending, scandals and gridlock of Washington. Lost in the marketing of Karl Rove’s “compassionate conservatism” that turned out to be big government with a feel-good name.

People are excited about Sarah Palin because she represents the kind of feisty, sensible, relatable candidate we want but were beginning to believe could not exist in today’s political culture.

She’ll need every bit of pitbull (and plenty of lipstick) to survive.

Journey to Norway Leads Home

Hilsen fra Norge!

I’m sitting at my grandfather’s childhood home in the majestic mountains of Norway’s Valdres Valley.

I arrived here with two siblings, two nieces and the leader of our 10-day expedition, my fearless Norsk mother. For years we have enjoyed her lefse and flatbread, now we have the precious opportunity to accompany her on her final trip to her father’s homeland. Her goal is to forge relationships between the next generation of Hermundstad descendants living in the U.S. and Norway.

It’s difficult to adequately describe the spectacular landscape of this country. I have explored the Rocky Mountains and visited the Swiss Alps. As handsome as these ranges are they don’t begin to match the striking beauty of the mountains, valleys, farms and fjords of Norway.

The countryside is the cleanest I’ve ever seen. A patchwork quilt of yellow and green fields covers the lower regions of the mountain ranges providing the perfect setting for quaint farm houses, barns and grazing sheep.

It looks and feels completely authentic, but I wonder if there is a national ordinance regulating the colors of homes and rooftop shingles. Virtually every farm home is the same shade of red, yellow, cream, white, or black. Where’s the crazy neighbor with the lavender or teal home?

Turns out my suspicion isn’t too far from the truth. According to our relatives, property owners are not allowed to sell their farm land for development. Fields must remain in the same shape and use in order to maintain the picturesque countryside. The term “strip mall” must be a curse word in this country.

As if the mountains and vegetation aren’t impressive enough, Norway is filled with water. Crystal clear lakes lie both in the valleys and on top of the mountains. Fjords creep inland from the North Sea and can be 10,000 feet deep while only a few hundred yards wide.

And then there are the waterfalls. It’s not unusual to see three, four or more waterfalls at any given time. So abundant are they that Norway produces virtually all of its electricity from hydroelectric power generated by waterfalls.

I’m observing some cultural surprises as well. Norwegians love the outdoors and exude health and vitality. “Bunads” may be the traditional dress, but spandex and athletic shoes are Norway’s modern-day costume.

At the same time, another national pastime appears to be smoking, despite massive efforts to discourage it. One pack of cigarettes costs about $12, and each boasts bold, oversized warnings like, “Smoking Kills” or “Smoking is highly addictive and difficult to stop. Don’t start smoking.”

We were warned about the high cost of traveling in Norway. It is rated the most expensive place in the world. But nothing could prepare me for paying more than $20 for a pack of four “AA” batteries, $10 for a gallon of gasoline or $12 for a small draft beer. Fortunately, we are so confused by the exchange rate we rarely know how much we are actually paying.

There are noticeable differences in the practice of marriage in Norway versus the U.S. Very few couples here bother with marriage. They live together for years, share possessions and property and even raise multiple children, but they don’t get married.

The nearest thing to an explanation we’ve heard is that hosting a wedding in Norway is really expensive. Apparently, potluck receptions in the church basement were invented by immigrants after arriving in America.

The biggest surprise of all is the quick affinity I’ve developed for my Norwegian relatives. I barely knew of these people a few days ago, and have already tears while saying goodbye to some of them. I look forward to nurturing these relationships through the internet and having these gracious people in my life forever.

My grandfather was born and raised in this country. In 1904, not even 20 years old, he left the safety of his family and lavish beauty of Norway to start new in America. He landed in the flat and open prairies of North Dakota -- poor, alone and unable to speak English.

He struggled, worked insanely hard, and eventually made it. I’ve often wondered if he ever regretted his decision to leave.

I’m sure he missed his family and the landscape of Norway, but today as I stand under the same towering mountains where he pondered his decision more than 100 years ago, I can better understand why he left.

While I’m awestruck by my surroundings, I find myself longing for the freedom of sight, movement and spirit that is available in abundance on the North Dakota plains.

I wish my grandparents were here today so I could say, “Tusen takk,” a thousand thanks, for the Norwegian American heritage they so proudly passed along.

We can all Go for the Gold

The Olympics have always captivated me. “The thrill of victory … and the agony of defeat.” I so wanted to be Mary Lou Retton landing two “perfect 10s” on the vault to secure a gold medal.

When I was in college, I had the unique experience of seeing the life of Olympic athletes up close as a journalism intern at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. I lived, ate and played at the Olympic training complex just like all the athletes – with one distinct difference. They spent five hours a day testing the limits of their minds and bodies for the prospect of Olympic gold. And I sat in a desk writing press releases for five dollars a day.

Despite the meager wages, it was a fair trade. I lived for free at the foot of Pikes Peak and gained a real lesson in what it means to be completely focused, truly committed to a singular purpose. To believe that a crazy dream is not only possible but worth making significant sacrifices to achieve.

Most of the athletes I met were living a long way from home. They were investing time, money, freedom and their youth for a remote chance to be among the world’s elite in their sport.

While carefree interns like me were going out dancing, they were going to bed early for rest. While we explored the Rockies, they stayed home to avoid risking an injury.

Day in and day out, years before their next chance to try out for the Olympics, they were risking everything to accomplish their goal. It seemed a fairly lonely pursuit, often monotonous, and filled with ups and downs and factors that were often beyond their control.

The smiles on those who achieve the ultimate dream, reach their full potential and earn Olympic gold, tell of the incredible personal investment involved.

Few of us are called to this level of athletic achievement. Daily struggles and the inertia of past decisions can certainly bog us down, making us feel like we are destined for mediocrity. But at this time when the demise of yet another political statesman, John Edwards, is front page news, we can learn from other, more genuine examples of excellence offered by our Olympic sportsmen and women.

Through incredible discipline, focus, hard work and sacrifice, they are shattering world records, setting new standards of distinction in their sport and ultimately achieving their own potential for greatness.

The playing fields for most of us are in our kitchens, classrooms and businesses. But the potential for greatness in each one of us, and the formula for achieving it, is much the same.

Bailouts Costing More than Money

Last week’s passage of the home mortgage bailout has received a fair amount of media attention. However, between the comic-book like characters involved – Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac – and the general complexity of banking and finance terms, it’s tempting to hear the news and think, “Oh good. That’s taken care of. Now … what am I making for dinner?”

The home mortgage crisis has irritated me since it first hit the news. I am no economist or finance expert but I do understand this much. The issue, at its core, is that people received loans who should not have from banks and credit agencies that should have known better.

Most of problems stemmed from the use of “ARM” (adjustable rate mortgages) loans. These tempting buggers start out with a “teaser” rate that’s typically lower than a fixed-rate loan. These low initial rates make a house seem more affordable, at first. After the initial period, however, the interest rate can fluctuate, sometimes significantly.

And that’s exactly what happened. Faced with much higher interest rates, many “subprime” borrowers (people who were not “prime” candidates for loans because of their low credit rating) can’t afford their home mortgages. The “what ifs” that these borrowers, their lenders and credit analysts should have considered before closing the sale, became not just an inconvenient detail but the cold, hard reality.

It’s an ugly situation – made worse by job losses and high prices for food, gas and other essentials.

The solution, although it promises to save up to 400,000 people from losing their homes, could be even uglier for our nation long term. Our leaders in Congress authorized the Federal Housing Administration, a.k.a. the U.S. government, a.k.a. you and me, to insure up to $300 billion in refinanced mortgages to help prevent foreclosures.

They also approved billions of future potential investments into the “quasi-private” mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac – entities that already receive preferential treatment from the government. Sounds like the federal government is taking another giant leap into the home loan business.

I’m not in favor of hundreds of thousands of people losing their homes. But allow me some anger and frustration when “we the people” have to spend potentially billions of dollars to compensate for lousy decisions made by financiers and borrowers who could have, should have, and I believe did, know better.

If a child had exercised such a poor decision, it would be a powerful learning opportunity. But apparently, the ramifications to our economy and our politicians in an election year are too devastating to allow anyone to seriously suffer from these bad choices.

A few in Congress issued warnings against these bold steps. Representative Jeff Flake of Arizona said during the House debate, “This bill has moral hazard written all over it. We are pretending to chain a monster here, and we are, instead, letting that monster loose.”

The monster looms in the question, if Congress, not the marketplace, is going to determine winners and losers, where do the bailouts end? Our system is based on profits and losses. The potential for loss keeps people from taking irresponsible risks.

If the government has our back, what’s stopping millions of Americans who took a more conservative (and expensive) loan from the more risky route next time?

The lopsided vote by which the measure passed in the Senate (72-13) sugarcoats the disturbing precedent this legislation creates.

Wait a minute. I guess it’s not really a new precedent. After the Bear and Stearns bail out a few months ago maybe it’s more like a trend.

Let’s hope not.

Putting Some "Farm" Into our Kids

Pulitzer Prize winning author Thomas Friedman has said when he was a child his parents told him to finish his vegetables because there were kids in China and India who were starving. Today, Friedman tells his own kids to finish their math and science homework because there are kids in China and India who are starving for their jobs.

America has lost millions of manufacturing jobs to emerging nations. Now our higher skilled jobs and professions -- computer programming, accounting, engineering and legal services – are subject to outsourcing.

These are unnerving trends, devastating to those who have lost their jobs. It remains to be seen what role American workers will play in the global economy. For me today, I worry about what my kids and grandkids will do to provide for themselves.

Part of securing a strong future for our kids is certainly what Friedman suggests – better education with more rigorous science and math skills.

But I believe there is another value at play here that’s just as important as academics, and is likely contributing to the sluggish academic performance of our youth. It’s what sends me searching for a way to get my kids on a farm, not really to learn how to mass-produce commodities.

I want them to learn how to work.

Really work -- not just unloading the dishwasher, collecting household trash or dusting a shelf -- but working from dawn to dusk, learning how to fix machines, haul manure and pitch in when all hands are needed for harvest or round up.

People who live on a farm learn how to solve problems, be resourceful and innovative, self-start and work hard without complaining. These are not the lessons you learn playing video games, watching TV or even engaging in many of the organized activities that dominate our children’s schedules.

The problem is, I haven’t met very many (or any) farmers who are real interested in employing my kids even when they are old enough. So, short of abandoning our professions and joining an Amish colony, how can we instill farm values in city kids? Can we foster a rural work ethic in our urban children?

Here are three ways to try:

Every family member helps: Children are valuable helpers on a farm, and should be in our homes too. Ditch the cleaning and lawn services and delegate these chores to the kids whenever possible. Who are we helping when an able bodied teenager is watching TV while a paid cleaning lady vacuums under their feet?

Do it yourself: Rather than throwing broken items away or calling a repair man, let your kids attempt to fix the busted chair, unclog the drain, or change the oil in your car. Consider the extra patience (and even money) it may cost an investment in the satisfaction your child will gain in trying and maybe even solving the problem.

Work first, play second: Our culture places high value on entertainment and fun. As parents we are the only ones who can provide the healthy and necessary balance our kids need through a reasonable dose of work and responsibility. Free time is the reward for a job well done.

We might not be able to raise our kids on a farm. But with some effort and firm resolve to ignore their inevitable complaints, we can instill some valuable farm-like work ethics and ingenuity in our kids. Businesses will always be starving for that.

Lessons Learned on Summer Vacation

The title of this story is, “How I drove 2,000 miles and learned to appreciate North Dakota wind.”

Last winter, my brother in Texas called and asked us to partake in a big family vacation at Lake of the Ozarks near Branson, Mo. With minimal consideration, my husband agreed, so I paid the deposit and happily left the arrangements to my brother.

We began to think about the trip, in earnest, about one week before we were scheduled depart. I logged onto Mapquest to plan our route and discovered how many miles exist between Bismarck and Branson: 1,007. That’s 16 ½ hours with stops.

I gingerly told my husband, sitting across from me with his computer, who promptly logged on to Mapquest himself to verify my facts. Next year, I suspect vacation planning will be a joint venture.

The next day, a friend said, “I hope you’re going to change your position on DVDs in the car. You can borrow ours.” Which is what I intended to do. We were just past Sterling when I realized I forgot to take her up on the offer. Oh well, only 1,989 miles to go.

The night before we left I searched for any possible excuse to get out of it. Not the trip really, but the two-page list of tasks leading up to it – completing work projects in advance, packing clothes and toys and food, preparing the car and the house and the yard, finding caretakers for the dogs and the plants.

Staying home is always an appealing prospect the day before a trip.

But as soon as we were on I-94 heading east I remembered something. I love road trips. And this one, it turns out, was to be our most successful venture yet.

Traveling is a learning experience. Here are a couple insights – new or reinforced –from our recent journey.

After dragging kids who can’t swim down water slides or toddlers who need a nap to museums I have finally learned that less is more when traveling with kids. They enjoy splashing in the pool or playing in the lake as much if not more than expensive, crowded, and all-too-often disappointing attractions.

I have multiple friends who have returned from Disneyworld to say their kids enjoyed the hotel pool as much as the theme parks. Maybe it’s all just too much?

On this trip we tried to resist paid attractions and leisurely hung out by the pool and the lake, played cards, read books, swam, walked and ate simple meals without looking at the clock.

My four year old, who was previously scared to go underwater, declared with gusto that his favorite part of the trip was, “Jumping in the pool.” That’ll be a sweet memory when he’s 14 and we’re paying $50 for his admission into an amusement park.

This trip also renewed my appreciation for the Midwest. We drove 2,000 miles across four plains states and I never got tired of the landscape – lush green fields, rolling hills, quaint farms with warm red barns, quiet little towns or friendly cities that aren’t too big or too busy.

We watched enormous thunderstorms and vivid rainbows form miles across the horizon. These sites aren’t just spectacular for their beauty but for the comfort and serenity they invoke in the beholder.

As I was roasting by the pool with my sister one afternoon, I raved about the Ozark’s hot, still, mosquito-free climate. She told me about a friend of hers who moved to Williston from Missouri. This woman’s favorite thing about North Dakota isn’t the friendly people, the good schools or affordable housing. She loves the wind.

This seems almost impossible after the spring we just endured. But I thought about it during our remaining days of vacation. Sitting by the pool was glorious, but as I imagined mowing the lawn in that heavy air I wanted to turn my head and feel a gust of fresh, crisp North Dakota wind.

Dorothy was right. There’s no place like home.