KHolterman40

15 Mar, 2023

Blog Posts

I am 45-years-old. My eye doctor reminded me of that several times the other day as I sat in his chair and he told me the news… it’s time for progressives. I’ve had glasses that I have used for a few years now to see far distances but lately I’ve noticed as I’m reading things up close, things get blurry. Apparently this happens to a lot of people my age… and progressive lenses are the way of seamlessly transitioning between near and far prescriptions.

“The most important thing to remember,” my eye doctor says with a serious tone, “is not to fight the focus. The lenses know which areas they need to focus on, so let them focus and prioritize correctly”.

Sounds simple enough. But I’m learning to let that advice expand beyond optics, and trying to apply it to my daily life. Lately, I feel like I’m struggling with this need to have all of my focus, all of my attention, and all of my priorities on everything all at once. I’ve climbed my professional ladder and expanded my social network by always saying yes to the “could you?” or “we’d be honored if you’d…” or “would love you to be a part of…” scenarios.

Volunteer for this committee and the next thing you know- I’m chairing it.

Speak on this panel and the next thing you know -I’m on five more.

Help with this school function and the next thing you know- I’m organizing an entire school carnival.

Don’t get me wrong… I actually love doing all of these things. Which therein lies the problem. I love it…and I know that if I don’t do it, someone else will be eager to do it in my place. I don’t want to give it up, but I also have come to a place in my life where I need to say no, or at least no to some things. I need to focus on only a few things at a time. Right now, I’d do anything to just simply do my job, raise my kids and write on the side for this blog that never seems to be going anywhere (gentle plug to share this if you are reading it…)

I’m eager to just “be” -but also have this feeling that I need to “be something else”. I’m not sure when just simply existing, became not enough of an existence.

Because I feel like the minute I give up something, I will disappear, that I will be out of focus. The minute I stop presenting at conferences… I’ll no longer be asked to present. The time I say no to sitting on a panel, is the time they will find someone else who will always say yes. The time I say no to hanging out with friends, will be the last time they ask.

And I don’t want it all to stop forever. I want a small break. I want to shift my priorities and say yes to the things that matter to me right now, without jeopardizing the things that may matter again in a little bit. I want to re-frame what is important in the moment to ensure their importance has meaning.

We’ve heard it time and time again- if everything is important, nothing is. If everything needs to happen perfectly, then it can never all be perfect. Shifting things in and out of focus is what we are supposed to do on a daily basis, yet somehow it feels like in today’s world, if our full focus isn’t on all things at all times, we are somehow failing.

But this is impossible and makes us feel like “yes” is the only answer. It clouds our priorities and blurs our visions.

I’ve realized, my mind has built in progressives. Those lenses only have so much capacity. It’s ok to say no instead of yes, and let those progressives focus and prioritize correctly.

KHolterman40

11 Mar, 2023

Blog Posts

I was a sophomore when I got my first college planning book. Back then nothing was online- online wasn’t a thing (y’know-because I’m “before the internet” old). But I had this THICK book filled with every college in America, and I read it every damn day. Hours spent narrowing down college choices, looking at possible majors, deciding on types of locations, campus size, and greek life. College was always in my path and was never a question- that was just who I was. Future planning as a teenager included college…but I never thought twice about those around me who weren’t headed in that direction. I didn’t have to- because I realize now, all of the attention was on me. The teachers, the guidance counselors, the administration, the many adults in my life- they focused on me because I (a college bound highschooler), was their audience. But OH how I wish I could have opened my eyes. I was so blind.

Being a mother to a highschooler who is not college bound, is eye opening. Yes, I fought it. I subtly (or not so subtly) dropped hints about college, I talked everyday as if college was the path. I dragged him to a college visit or two. And finally one day earlier this year I stopped the fight for many reasons, the most important being that I realized….it wasn’t a fight at all. At least, it didn’t have to be. Because really -it was so simple and boiled down to five words.

College is not his path.

And one path is not right for everyone

My son is so smart and so incredibly determined. He can remember details of stories and pictures better than anyone I know. He can describe the most scrupulous details of an object. He finds something he enjoys, loves or has any interest in… and it becomes his sole purpose. He puts determination into everything he enjoys. He lives with dyslexia and ADHD and schoolwork was always challenging. Yet work outside of school, related to what he enjoyed, was a breeze. Organizing homework, and tests and projects was dreadful; but remembering how to put together a piece of equipment, or create a woodworking or art project was second nature. He found success when he wasn’t in school, he experienced accomplishment in the “real world” of work, and volunteering, and project development. His future is so bright, and it’s up to all of us as parents, as adults, to be responsible for not dimming anyone’s future path.

But I see it happen all the time, and it is so much more obvious to me now as I see his friends, and peers who are looking toward their future. As I view social media posts from other parents, as I read emails come in from the school district, as I listen to conversations going on around me. We need to stop dimming the lights for those teens who are not college bound and we need to be shining light on every different path.

It starts with the high school. I am appalled as I sit back and watch as area highschools only “highlight” the students that are going to college on their social media pages, their shoutouts, their celebratory walls and lawns and signs. I shake my head as the locker decorations begin, the university decor starts being showcased, and the celebrations- focused on college- come roaring in.

High Schools- DO BETTER: Start Celebrating EACH and every student.

Celebrate what their plans are and why they chose it. Celebrate what they are excited most about as they look to their future. Start identifying that there are many paths to enjoyment, fulfillment, and purpose. Start by recognizing that words matter… recognize that college planning through the guidance department is the WRONG choice of words. Instead, let’s talk about FUTURE planning, and make sure teachers, counselors, and administration are using those exact words. Make sure your guidance counselors have as much information on local trade schools as they do on the hundreds of colleges in the local area and beyond. Make sure they have resources on what jobs may be available for those who are looking to start employment right away. College fairs are abundant, but what about bringing in travel agencies, for those who may want a gap year to explore all the world has to offer? What about financial planners, who can come in and discuss budgets and financial planning for those who want to start working directly out of school?

Don’t have these separate. Don’t have the large college fair that is publicized and pushed, but then have a trade school “event” that features 5 or 6 trades/trade schools in a corner of a room, to which only a few are invited.

MAKE every student attend everything. Plan their future- not their college. Help them recognize that they are worthy of the time and effort spent in planning for the next step. And my God, CELEBRATE them ALL. For everything they are going to do. They are all worth it.

KHolterman40

8 Nov, 2022

Blog Posts

I haven’t had time to write. I haven’t been inspired to write. I haven’t known what to write about.

Ah. That’s all crap and false. The truth is I got in my own way. I let insecurity and doubt creep in and take over. Thoughts such as “Who wants to read what little ol’ me has to say? Who the hell do I think I am, that I would have anything to write that would be of interest” etc.

Just so you know, those little voices in your head can be largely loud.

But for what it’s worth- I think I’ve realized those voices are wrong.

Yes, I’ve written all of my life but that was in journals, diaries or the occasional letter to a loved one. So I think it is weird to say the least… to know that this is going to be read by several hundred people (or more accurately, by like one random person who accidentally stumbles upon this site). So why write a blog at all? Because words matter to more than just the person who writes them. For me, writing was an unintended positive result of a crappy situation. Back in 2021, my husband almost died. I don’t say that lightly- he literally had days left. He very unexpectedly went into liver failure and required a liver transplant. He was hospitalized and in critical condition for almost three months and I was thrown into the worst period of my life. He knocked on death’s door and at the same time, I had a new door open to a release of emotions through writing. I wrote to keep people updated but it became this way of expression that I didn’t realize was so powerful. I knew people were reading it, but the healing part was for me…or so I thought.

I took a break from this blog for a few months, because I just couldn’t get past the thought of “do people want to read this?” But in that time I’ve talked with several people who have told me stories, some of which have brought tears to my eyes, of how I spoke words that touched them, how I wrote words that they were searching for, but couldn’t articulate themselves. I talked to a friend who said she reads my words and it feels like “I go inside her head and pull the words out.”

So I guess the point of this post is thanks for sticking with me. Thanks for reading. Thanks for reaching out and encouraging me to write the words again. I still think you’re all crazy but I kind of like you for believing in me.

Hopefully I’ll post some heartwarming introspective thoughts, along with some classic stories of inspiration, paired with some random observations and the occasional piece of advice, or funny tidbit or even recommendations for things I find useful, worthwhile or important. I’ll probably throw in quite a bit of dark humor because that’s how I cope with life (although, according to my therapist, it’s how I COVER up my feelings… whatever, I’m working on it). I really have no expectations, and I have no great ideas. I only have random quotes – and I may have the words to help you if you’ll let me.

The point is- I’ll keep writing if you all keep reading. We’re in it together.

KHolterman40

26 Aug, 2022

Blog Posts

My favorite moments at the beach are just after sunrise. Walking the beach during this time is so calm and quiet and allows true peace for me. Rarely do I go in the water, but this morning I felt the urge. I walked in, waist deep, felt the waves hit in rhythmic patterns and then… I spotted it.

A shell.

It wasn’t necessarily the prettiest shell, or the most unique, but it was big, intact and I wanted it. I could have swum in and grabbed it, but I knew it would eventually get pushed closer to me. I waited and watched and waited some more; wave after wave brought the shell a little closer to me only to then take it away. It was easy to lose sight of for a moment of two, in the jersey shore waters that are a mix of white foam, clear water and brown sand. I looked back at the beach where my coffee was getting cold, and my umbrella was still there waiting to be put up. But I knew at this point, I couldn’t walk away from the shell… I’d put in at least 10 minutes waiting for it to come to me, and I wasn’t giving up now!

Yes, my determination was strong.

It’s a funny thing about your personal strengths, and what you’re willing to accept as true and comfortable. When my husband was in the hospital, and even the few weeks after he arrived home, people continually told me how strong I was. But the truth was, I felt like an imposter acknowledging this or agreeing with people. I never felt strong. I felt broken, and scared, and like I was falling apart inside myself every day. I felt like strength was the furthest word to describe me. But I knew I was something. I knew I had a type of personal asset that was getting me through the worst storm. And as I stood on that beach, waiting for that shell and not giving up until it was in my grasp, I realized that something was DETERMINATION.

Determination is what kept me going those 77 days of his hospitalization. It’s what kept me hopeful, and persistent. It’s what allowed me to be by his side 3-4 days a week and with my kids the other days. It’s what helped me when I was trying to keep myself busy with work and managing schedules. It’s what kept me going as I frantically and quickly learned about organ donation and transplants. It allowed me to fight for him in those moments that I knew- both in my medical mind and in my wife role -something wasn’t right or needed to be addressed. And it’s what kept me looking strong, even if I wasn’t feeling it.

Determination made moments that appeared dark, to have some light; and allowed the impossible to be possible.

And Determination made the end result so incredibly rewarding. I finally got that shell this morning and it felt great, not because of the object itself, but because of the persistence I held throughout the journey. And last year, I now see that my determination and persistence gave both Glenn and in many ways, myself, new life.

KHolterman40

21 Aug, 2022

Blog Posts

My birthday falls around labor day weekend, so our annual end of the summer vacation down the shore (that’s “at the beach” for you non-New Jersey folks), usually has me reflecting upon my upcoming birthday while I’m here. You see, heading down the shore is a right of passage living in NJ, but in my teens/20’s, it looked a little different then it does to me now. The differences are noticeable even in the packing process at 45 vs. 25 year old. Today, I counted five major differences:

25-year-old self: I’ll pack a few pairs of shorts, a pair of black pants (90’s girls holla for the black pants phase!), a few nice shirts and some beachwear. vs. 45-year-old self: I’ll pack my entire closet. Just in case. You never know.
25-year-old self: I’ll be gone 8 days. I’ll need exactly 8 pairs of underwear. vs. 45-year-old self: I’ll be gone 8 days. Chances are I’ll pee myself at least once because I have no post-birthing bladder control. And -although I never have in my adult years- in my head, this week will apparently be the week that I crap myself three times – so I’ll bring 27 pairs of underwear – just in case.
25-year-old self: I’ll bring my itsy-bitsy-teenie-weenie-ironically true – polka-dot bikini vs. 45-year-old self: I’ll wear my sensible one piece and maybe a tankini.
25-year-old self: Going to need my birth control, and bottle of Advil to fight off hangovers (because there were many, many trips to many, many bars). vs. 45-year-old self: A bottle of Advil to fight off hangovers (because.. y’know…kids…), plus my reflux meds, medicine for my thyroid that’s been out of whack since I was pregnant with my oldest, an an array and plethora of vitamins including my life-changing melatonin so I can actually sleep through the night.
25-year-old-self The hopes and dreams of being with the man of my dreams forever and without a doubt having the time of my life on vacation each year. 45-year-old self- The amazing reality of being with my husband and our kids, and having the time of my life on these vacations year after year.

KHolterman40

16 Aug, 2022

Blog Posts

I’m not good at the stock market. I want to be, I really really do, but part of me just doesn’t understand it, and the other part fears it because…y’know… the RISK. I know, I know-I could invest $100 and make a million. BUT I could invest $100 and lose way more than that! That’s too risky to me.

But risk is all around us. We take risks every day of our lives. There is actually research that shows kids learn by taking risks- which scares the hell out of me as a parent, but as a student of child development makes perfect sense. We ask kids to play in risky situations all of the time. Hide and seek. Climb a tree. Play on the swingset as high and as fast as you can. Go up to strangers and ask for money (no? just me? Ok -moving on ..) There is learning that takes place in all of those “risky” situations.

I used to think of risk in the synonymous way of danger, threat and peril. But isn’t it funny that if you look up “risk” in a thesaurus (because, yes, I did do this), the other interchangeable terms include possibility, chance and odds/probability. Well now, don’t those have a nice little ring to them??

So why this as a first post on my blog? Well- here’s the thing with writing- I love it! It’s my way of letting go of the thoughts I didn’t even know that I had. It’s an outlet to test out and let out my creative energy and it’s always been a private thing to me- making it public seems so (c’mon say it with me…) RISKY.

But alas, here it is. I’m taking a risk and putting it out there for all to see (whatever this “it” of a blog is). It’s scary as hell, but it’s also an opportunity for possibilities, a chance at something exciting, and maybe-just maybe- the odds exists to make that million I didn’t find investing in that other risky business.

KHolterman40

21 May, 2022

Blog Posts

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