Pulling Away, Rolling Away

I suppose we each choose a different time, a different way to assert our independence.  A rite of passage. And right on schedule, my oldest has began pushing the boundaries, just enough to make me worry about the future, recalling all too clearly what I myself managed to try and get away with.

Last night she was supposed to go to the mall with a friend and her family, but there was a last minute change. Instead of calling me, she waited for me to track her down.  Now I would have been fine with the new plan, had I been given the opportunity... But I wasn’t! So of course I can’t help putting on my motherly authority like armor, beginning her lecture over the phone before she even got home.

“She’s grounded tomorrow and we should take away phone!” I blast off at my husband as we awaited her return.

Gently trying to quell my windup to a full tirade, he suggested, “Why don’t we wait until tomorrow to decide what to do?” while giving me his all-knowing, seen-it-happen-before nod.

“Why!?! She lied. She didn’t do what she was supposed to do. She...”

“I just think it would be better if we avoid a big fight tonight. We’ll let her know that we will talk about it in the morning,” my husband offers, trying again to reach the rational part of me.

Fine. But when my 12-year old entered the front door wearing make up, which she knows she is not allowed to wear yet... Well, I had to do everything I could to grit my teeth and not start yelling.

She is pulling away, claiming her independence, growing up. It’s hard for me, because she has always wanted to be at my side, my shadow.  But even though she wants to go and do, when she returns to the comfort of the nest, she has to have affirmation that I miss her and love her and need her. For me it’s a comfort to know that she’s not quite ready to take the full leap.

Honest Fear

In the past month, I have been bombarded by a message.  You know the type of message that keeps coming to you, to get you to do or act in a certain way, "Call your dad, call your dad, call your dad," because you found an old picture of your dad, a friend’s dad just died, Dad’s Country Fried Chicken House just opened around the corner.

So finally you call your dad and maybe he was sick or needed your support or YOU just needed to hear his voice.  Something in the cosmos had aligned, gently guiding your course.

Well calling my dad wasn't the message I have been getting and it hasn't really been gentle.  I have practically been beat over the head with what I should and must do.

The message I keep tripping around or kicking out of the way has to do with honesty, my honesty.  Honesty will set me free.... Or at least it will help me find my way and clear a path for me to see what I need and DON’T need in my life.  My genuine candor will hopefully help others and lift the veil of perception. The perception we create versus the reality.

Because don’t we, more often than not, put forth an image, a persona that we think others will like, will approve of. But we are conflicted, because it is false and it is hard to maintain and terrifying to think that someone might find out that we aren’t what we appear to be.  It’s exhausting.

And if you are like me, well I have several disguises that I use... one for work, one for home, one for family, one for friends, one for my children’s school.  It becomes difficult to remember who knows what about me and how to keep one group from knowing about that part of me I have decided to share with another.

Behind the Lens - Part 2

So about that day, the day I took one of my most treasured pictures of my chicklets... What doesn’t show in their angelic faces? What really happened? (If you are thoroughly lost with this post, you should read Behind the Lens - Part 1.)

Obviously I was tired and out of sorts that day, but I needed to get the pictures taken... so I could have them developed and ready to go on to our Christmas cards... and I was running out of time.  I had an entire roll of black & white film and one color roll as well. Yes, it was before I owned a digital camera, which might have saved me... and my family...

We started in our back yard in their coordinating outfits.... a few up against the tree, a few sitting here, a few more over there on the pile of leaves... On and on it went, and now guess what, it’s time for the color shots. Lets do all the poses over again just to make sure we get a good one.  My ever-patient hubby was helping herd our three youngins around, encouraging them with the guise that we were almost finished.

A good amount of the time, I was barking orders... open your eyes, don’t smile so big, hold still, look at the camera... JUST GREAT, now I have to take another one... On and on it went some more. My poor kiddos were getting so sick of it and I was escalating. Louder, more impatient, angrier, loosing control...

With less than ten frames left on the last roll, I suggested we move to the front yard. ‘Suggested’ that’s a nice way of putting it. Actually, it was more of a demand that they didn’t dare refuse. “If you would just hurry up, it wouldn’t take so d---- long and we could be done with this sh--!”  I couldn't just take a few of my husband or the house or a tree.... no, no, no... every last stinking picture had to be of my children.  It wasn’t developing into pretty situation... not pretty at all.

Dance for Love

I was inspired to write a poem about what we did last night...I can't remember writing any since I did the birth announcements for my chicklets, but it seamed fitting. My hubby built us a fire and the five of us danced to Hannah's music until we were panting and dizzy. Fun, fun!

Dance
for love
and life’s joys.
Dance with your child,
twirling her dizzy.
Spin madly with your son,
hearts and fingers entwined.
Sway in rhythm with your true love,
holding each other ever so close.
Dance to a melody that keeps you young.

(BTW... the poem is an Etheree... ooh la la... ten lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables... I found the format at Shadow Poetry.)

Keep Hammering Away

While developing and starting my blog, I have experienced scores of challenges. The creative part (writing) has been genuinely gratifying, liberating. But the technical details are wearing me down... feeds, widgets, carnivals, links, domains, web hosts, channels, RSS, URLs, XML, HTML, KILL, HADMYFILL, bla, bla, bla bla, blaaaaaaaaaaa...

I am a complete tech idiot.... so from the ground up I’ve had to research and learn everything as I go... often having to back step twice to get to the most basic definition which will hopefully lead to my brain finally understanding. It has been so overwhelming!!! Couple that with my personality and well, honestly, I nearly gave up, more than once. Surprised?

To relieve my stress, I began venting to a friend about how frustrating the mechanics are, wondering out loud if this was really for me.... In an effort to help me keep my head above water, she shared a ‘project management theory’ (sounds really brainy doesn’t it) she learned when she had once been a part to the corporate world.

The Sweet Smell of Sweat

"Mommy after you exercise, you smell like a boy."

Don't you just love my son's honesty. Ok, ok, I got it, time to hit the shower. Some days I have to take two... depending on when I get my workout in and when I have clients.  I work part-time as a personal trainer and I though I want to appear athletic, I don‘t want to prove the point by reeking of locker room.

Body odor aside, for me physical fitness has become a vital part of my life.  I truly do feel better when I exercise.... inside and out. I started kicking my workouts into higher gear about two years ago, which happened to coincide with discovering my ADD. In addition to the obvious benefits like better health, weight loss, increased fitness, gains in strength, increased balance, stronger bones, more flexibility...for ME, working out has become a form of meditation, release, empowerment. I have been amazed at the things I can do now that I never thought possible.

And when I skip a few days, I feel less energetic, I don’t sleep as well... which in turn leads to a whole other set of issues... I regress to a cranky slug.

Recently, I read this study (done at Duke University) where they found that individuals suffering from depression experienced the SAME benefits from exercise as those taking antidepressants. And the effects could be sustained with ongoing and regular workouts.  Here’s the real kicker: Participants doing ‘exercise only’ where MUCH less likely to have their depression return... less than the patients receiving drug therapy, and those taking drugs + doing exercise.

Guess what exercise this study used?  WALKING....yep that’s it.  Walking 30 minutes a day.  Nothing strenuous or expensive. Exercise can help you can lose your blues and your love handles too...

Article featured in the January 30, 2010 Weight Management and Fitness Forum 58th Edition hosted at Weight Master

Behind the Lens - Part I

This much loved picture of my children sits in my living room.  I took it myself in our backyard over four years ago in late November.  Recently, I was reminded of the day I took this photo, because I was posting it to my Facebook page.  The caption I wrote under it went something like this:  There is a story behind this picture, maybe I will tell it someday...

For the last few days, I have reflected on memories that surround this photograph, memories that weigh on my mind.  What you see in a snapshot can sometimes be deceiving.  The cute little faces with their cherub cheeks and sweet smiles.  Such innocence...  It’s amazing that I was able to get this picture at all, considering the real mood and events that went along with it.

First I need to go back few weeks before it was taken.  I had to take my son to a routine doctor’s appointment and my daughter came along. Previous experience taught me to be prepared... a big bag of snacks, colors, paper, books... anything to keep my daughter engaged so that I could actually converse with the doctor.

That day was no different than prior visits.... taxing at best....  After Max was weighed, my daughter headed for the scale and began bouncing up and down on it....once in the examination room, she could not be deterred from standing on the swiveling physician’s stool.... then she moved on to opening each drawer and cabinet.  Finally (ignoring the clearly posted prohibition) I blew up a latex glove for her amusement.

In an Ello world...

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Last Thursday I made a post about my tendency to get locked onto something and ignore my family and at the end of that post I made a resolution to spend more time with my kids.  So I wanted to update you on that promise.

On Friday evening, Saturday, Sunday and Monday (because they were off school ) I did go out of my way to really be there. I made a decision not to write or post to my blog, because I have realized in the last month I just can't do both at the same time.

If I am composing or tweaking a post or my site, I am absorbed, paying no attention to them... If they need me, I ask them to wait or I become impatient with the interruptions or irritated by the bickering in the next room.  So I am going to save it for when they are in school or in bed.

This weekend we spent time together doing necessary things (cleaning two fish tanks and writing thank you cards) and fun stuff (building an Ello mansion and bike riding).  It wasn't forced interaction, but I was at a point where I had to set a boundary for myself:  I didn’t allow myself to get on the computer and zone out...OK OK...I Facebooked at little... just a little....

Why mess with a Wiener?

     I must be hungry today, because my posts are focusing on food, but I couldn't help sharing this one for those of you who were born... well you know... back then.

I heard on the radio this morning that Oscar Mayer is retiring their hotdog jingle, which I found out is the longest running commercial jingle still in use.  Instead they are spending $50 million on a new campaign to promote ALL of their meaty products. Go figure????

It made me feel nostalgic.... made me smile as I sang along with the radio.

Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer Wiener...

Peanut Butter Comfort

When I finished posting last night at 10:40 I was too revved up to go straight to bed.  So I headed for the sofa with a jar of peanut butter, bag of chocolate chips, spoon and brimming glass of wine to cuddle up with my dogs.  That and Project Runway were exactly what I needed.  I slept like a rock last night.

Unfortunately, poor nutrition and stress equaled a cold sore this morning.  Pretty, pretty.

But I feel renewed this morning.  Lighter.

My mother lives here, but we don’t know where she is . . .

A searing pain has taken up residence between my shoulder blades today. Probably because I have not had one single minute, or second today that wasn't spent doing, going, making, fixing, working, helping. No relaxing, resting or meditating. And if I remember correctly, not much laughing, few smiles and once near tears. Even when I actually had the opportunity to catch my breath and shift gears, I didn't choose to slow down, I just pushed on to the next task. Even at dinner, my brain was reeling through my mental lists.

That is so ADD. It is impossible for me to turn my brain off. I fixate on an activity until it is complete, often to the detriment of my family. I ignore my kids, irritate my husband, forget my dogs and disregard housekeeping until my mission is utterly complete. I just find it unbearable to stop until I am finished.... painting, sewing, blogging, whatever my newest pursuit may be.

Haiti

I have been listening to what happened in Haiti on NPR.  It makes the details of my life seem minuscule, petty.  I decided to do something to help. If you want to help as well, you can make a donate at Global Giving.  They need cash donations, NOT food or clothing. And prayers.

(Photo from NPR: Lisandro Suero/AFP/Getty Images)

My Grandmother's Hands

Last night as I was tucking my Sara in, I realized for the first time that her fingers were long and slender, beautiful.  Those are not my hands.  And how strange that I never noticed this in the last 8 years.

When I recanted my discovery to my husband my oldest overheard.  Hannah's reaction was that not only were Sara's hands pretty, but that Sara was pretty.  But followed this with my hands are ugly, I'm ugly, I'm fat.

Now I have heard this tirade before.  She is 12 and I distinctly recall what that was like. I was just like her.  I have countered these comments in different ways, often telling her she was wrong and I wasn't going to take part in her little pity party.

blog⋅som⋅ni⋅a

–noun

inability to obtain sufficient sleep, esp. when chronic; because you wake up at 3:30 in the morning, mentally editing your previous posts, obsesing about future posts until your alarm goes off at 6:00.

Question of the Week

Put forth by Hannah:  Mom, how many hours do you think it took to paint the IKEA building blue?

I'm sure that with some calculating I might be able figure out a close enough guess, but who has time.  Good question though.  I like that kind.  Personally I am curious how much paint it takes?

Finding an Itty-Bit of Zen

You know how most people look forward to the weekend. Time off. No work.  I sometimes have mixed feelings.  For me weekends mean running around juggling my children’s sporting events, laundry, cleaning up my house, only to have my kids make more messes, grocery shopping, planning and cooking three meals a day...  And all five of us at home, together, in one house, under one roof, grating on one another, bickering, fighting, yelling, screaming.

My baby turned 7

Max turned 7 on New Year's Eve. I just can't believe it.

With each passing year I feel less needed. How long can I still pinch his booty? When will it be inappropriate for me to snuggle up in bed with him, to help him get dressed, to kiss the soft spot of his temple. And when will some girl break his heart?

I ache to hold on to him forever, but it is already too late for that... The double edged-sword of being a mother. From the moment you give birth, you must begin letting go... you deliver them, then they crawl away, they step away, they run away, go off to school... It just goes on and on.

Truthfully, I get so caught up in what is slipping away, I forget to hold on to what I have right now.  And I am sure that I will be lamenting the loss of 'what is happening now' in time too.

I have to get my priorities straight and remember to be present. PRESENT. PRESENT. PRESENT. I promise... starting tomorrow morning... well my chicklets are already in bed, so I can fuss on what has passed tonight and focus on the here and now tomorrow.  I promise.  It is hard though.... but I promise to try.