30 Things Motherhood Taught Me

When I look back over the years... 12 years... there are countless things I learned as a mother, things that I never would have known had it not been for my three beautiful children—Hannah, Sara and Max. Though most of the lessons were wonderful and amazing, some were not easy or pleasant or, even valuable, as far as I can tell up to this point... but they are an inseparable part of me. They have helped shape me into who I am today. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I learned...

... the names of all four Teletubbies--Dipsy, Tinky-Winky, Lala and Po
... holding my new born baby could be thrilling and terrifying in the same moment
... my children would repeat every ‘bad word’ I said at the worst possible moments
... washable paint doesn’t mean the same as wash-off-able or wash-out-able
... I can’t compare number two to number one; they are totally different beings
... number three was a blessing, never an oops
... doughnuts are a great bribery tool
... boys may never learn to lift the lid
... all my children had to color on the walls or in a book at least once, some more than once
... that to avoid a toddler who is utterly crestfallen, crushed, disappointed and defeated and who blames me for it all, I should have taken roses to the Wiggles concert... why did no one tell me these things
... not to EVER place a bouncy seat on an elevated surface as clearly and boldly printed on the warning label... sorry Love
... it’s ok to let her wear her Sleeping Beauty ‘dress-up’ shoes and Minnie Mouse dress to the store
... even at seven he wants his mother to scoop him up and sooth him when he gets hurt at a baseball game
... to ALWAYS bring snacks whenever, wherever I go with my kiddos
... letting a baby cry themselves to sleep is gut wrenching
... bathtub crayons are an impossible nightmare to clean off of white grout
... it is OK to use the TV babysitter
... my girls couldn’t be kept away from pink, sparkly, frilly stuff no matter how hard I resisted
... the time between her first day of kindergarten and her first day of junior high was so short
... parenting by volume is difficult to avoid at times
... Biter Biscuits are soooooo messy and that I should send what was left of the box to the babysitter’s house
... not to let my child stand up in the basket part of the shopping cart, as clearly and boldly printed on the warning label... sorry again Love

... all my children had to try cutting their own hair, some more than once
... Goodnight Moon can take 30 minutes to read
... nursemaid’s elbow (partial dislocation of the elbow) can easily and quickly be fixed at home and doesn’t necessitate a 20-minute drive to the emergency room while my child issues forth endless waves of blood-curdling screams
... meandering walks lead by a two-year-old are some of my most cherished memories
... a juice filled sippy cup left in a hot car creates a huge leaky, oozing, sticky mess
... the sound of my children’s laughter and giggles is the best therapy
... the laundry is never, and I mean NEVER done
... my children love me and forgive me even when I make mistakes, even really big huge ones

I am sure it goes without saying, this is by no means a complete and exhaustive list of what motherhood has taught me. And I know without a doubt I still have many lessons yet to learn...both joyously and painfully. I am grateful for my three little chicklets and the lessons learned, making me a better me.

I'd love to hear what motherhood (or fatherhood) has taught you?

Happy Mother’s Day

Here and Now

It is said that if we practice being present in the moment, we can have clarity, focus and peace. But I will be the first to admit that I spend way too much time worrying about what is going to happen or how things will work out. I also tend to relive events of the past in my twisted mind which were painful or I wish I had done differently.

Finances, health concerns, relationships, regrets... so much of which is out of our control... the future is not written and the past can not be undone. When I focus undue energy on the past or future, usually because of fear or anxiety, I only manage to torture myself with the awful possibilities... creating imagined realities that may never come to pass.

Concentrating on the past, wishing it were different, serves no purpose. I can not divorce myself from the past, but instead of regret, I need to learn from my mistakes or choices and then let go of the negative emotions I associate with these memories.

Now this is certainly easier said than done... I am a perfect example. But I know it is possible... at least I know that I can be present if I remind myself to do so. And sometimes I have to remind myself over and over. Is it possible to always be present? I doubt it, but when lack of presence causes anger, fear, anxiety, worry and inaction, well I know I need to try something different.

There are times when my mind wanders, and I just can’t seem to help it. But there is no failure in this... I just need to call myself back, and back again, and back again if necessary. As often as it is necessary. When I am going through a trying time in my life, it seems I have to remind myself almost every other second.

But I have found that the more I practice living in the moment, it becomes easier. And unbelievably (for my brain loves to dwell on the crap) there are times it comes naturally, unforced.

Lifted by Friendship

It feels like forever since I have had the time to sit down and write... out-of-control busy... lots of stuff going on in my life, good and bad. Not so much bad as sad and difficult and uncertain and scary. I am sure this sounds familiar to everyone. I am not unique, but it is easy to start feeling like my world is crumbling and that it will never get better. You know, wallowing in my own self-pity. I am a master at this...

Thank God I have so many good friends... I had a couple things take place this afternoon that caused me a lot of anguish, but I got right on the phone, calling, texting, spewing, crying, ranting... and believe it or not I feel so much better than I did. A weight has been lifted...

Now for me this hasn't always been easy... to reach out and ask for help or just unload the things that are going on in my life. I would go through stuff and just hold it in and before long I was downright miserable. The fear, pain and hopelessness growing the longer I kept it bottled up.

Within a two-hour span this afternoon, I cut ties with a close friend (sad but necessary) then I followed it up with a screaming match with my soon-to-be-ex-husband (who I am sure unwittingly caught the jagged edges of my mood.)

Oh the joy, joy joy. I wanted to blubber, curse, crumble and rage all at once, and I did a little of all, but I also reached out to people in my life that really care about me and my well-being. Some offered advice, others adages, while a couple just listened.

A Hoppy Ending

As an individual full of faults, flaws and shortcomings, in the past I have often done the same (not so smart) thing over and over, getting the same results without realizing the pattern. And even when I identify and accept a behavior defect about myself that is none too flattering, I find I am still prone to repeating it. When I sidestep a fear or weakness, it tends to sidle back in and bite me.

I was recently smacked in the face with one such unpleasant penchant of mine. I don’t like to admit out loud to anyone that I suffer from this affliction... but since my marriage is dissolving, I must begrudgingly concede that it is high time I address this tendency.

I am a Hopper. I am sure you are wondering what the heck is a hopper? It doesn’t identify someone who is good at hopscotch or a hop-picking machine or a green leaf-eating insect. It is a little pet name adopted by myself and a fellow hopper.

It means I hop from one relationship with a man to another. As soon as I am done with one, I move almost immediately on to the next... no downtime, sometimes they even overlap. During my entire adult life, I have never been alone... except for one brief period of a few months when I was miserably lonely and constantly on the look out for someone to fill my void.

Until recently I had classified my being a hopper as nothing more than a genetic idiosyncrasy, but not necessarily detrimental. I now realize my habitual behavior borders on unhealthy and destructive. OK... it more than borders, IT IS unhealthy and destructive.

Even when I thought I had got lucky and hopped into a healthy relationship, eventually I was faced with the truth of yet another unhappy end. Not because the men I chose were always terrible human beings, but because they weren’t necessarily right for me and I never took the time to determine this between hops.

Moreover, if I happened to be in a bad spot in my life when I hopped (which is generally the case for me... no relationship = despair) well it doesn’t matter who I hopped to saint or psycho. If God had put the perfect man in front of me, I would have screwed it up, because I was screwed up.

Wandering from Home - Part 2

Sometimes we begin a journey expecting an outcome so different than what we actually experience. Part of this gap can be accounted for through a lack of preparation (guilty) or chalked up to the fact that it is a totally novel adventure (guilty again). But sometimes we gain something far greater than any of our expectations and we are changed forever.

Day 2 - Saturday, April 10, 2010

As suggested by my brother, Wendy and I should have gotten up and left for the canyon by 4:00 AM; it was a two hour drive to the trailhead from Kingman. Well it just so happens that my brother wasn't with us and wasn't going on the hike with us, so we didn't heed his advice... na na na na naaaaa

We awoke after 6:00, didn't get on the road till nearly 7:00 and finally made it to the Hualapai Hilltop parking lot around 9:00. Another wonderful day of setting our very own schedule... no deadlines, no urgencies, no have-to-be-somewhere-right-now, and NO ONE complaining because we were late. This alone brought a freedom and peace that was unknown to both of us. Perhaps we should have just turned around and headed back home at that point... I mean why mess with something so perfect?

Upon stepping from the car, I got my first glance at the awe inspiring magnificence of the Grand Canyon. It was sooooo big, sooooo deep.... sooooo woooooweeee wow wow!

Then I noticed the switchback, stair-stepped trail creeping down the canyon wall... Holy Crap-oly! It seemed to never end... and look at those people way down there where the trail finally starts to flatten out and head off into the distance, they look sooooo small and far away! And they were!!! We looked at one another and wondered what the H-E-Double Toothpicks had we got ourselves into?!?!

Tuesday that feels like Monday

Even though today was Tuesday, on many levels it felt like Monday. Maybe because it was my first day back to work this week or because I was ooooh soooo tired which I am sure heightened my sensitivity to everything around me. I found myself feeling critical of others, but I also felt justified at times... which I am sure is not a good combination and will lead nowhere good...

In general, I really do try to be kind to other people, to not throw out my judgments or participate in idle or cruel gossip. I know that I wasn't always like that... When I was younger, and full of my own extreme insecurities, I could be quick to cut someone else down behind their back. I do try not to be so catty now... but have you ever come into contact with someone who just rubs you the wrong way and you can't help harboring ill thoughts about them?

At the gym where I work, there are a lot of affluent members. Most don't flaunt it but once in a while you witness someone looking down their nose. They can't quite treat you as they would a friend of equal status, because you work at the gym versus being a member. They hold themselves just above you, conveying their superiority whenever your paths do cross.

I find that with these type of people, I either kill them with kindness... making them feel like crap for being so smug. Or I go out of my way to hold myself above them by not making eye contact, ignoring their presence, or the-real-kicker by being in better shape than they are... he he he.

In the end though, I know they act the way they do because they are insecure and afraid. They puff themselves up to accentuate what they have that I don’t, only to conceal what they don’t have, which is confidence and a love for themselves.

Wandering from Home - Part 1

I was thrilled when my sister-in-law Wendy invited me on a trip to the Grand Canyon. Sure, sure, sure... I will hike it with you... No problem!! But what started out as a girl's weekend away, turned out incredibly different. We embarked upon a bona fide adventure, that challenged us more than expected with quite a few lessons learned. Some of these lessons came the hard way, but I wouldn't trade any of them. The obstacles we overcame, revealed a part of ourselves we had not known before.

Day 1 - Friday, April 9, 2010

With my kiddos off to school, I packed up my gear and headed off. I was supposed to leave home around 11:00 AM, but being the girl I am, I didn't manage to set off until 1:30. But I had no real deadline, so it felt good for once to not have to worry about being anywhere at any set time or screaming and cursing at someone because I was late yet again.

My first destination was Kingman, Arizona, where my brother and sister-in-law live with their three children. Now ironically, my brother was traveling to my house with his kiddos AS I traveled to his home. So all six wild-and-out-of-control cousins and three hyper dogs would be at my house with the two husbands for the weekend, and I would be with my sister-in-law, just the two of us, existing in perfect harmony and peace. Sometimes the planets just align...

Needless to say, I was floating on a cloud as I headed out of Phoenix through Wickenburg, so much so that I began to nod off as I was driving. I knew that I was extremely sleep deprived... I hadn’t managed to get more than fours hours of sleep in a given night over the last three weeks. Now I could have pulled over and rested, but I would have had to sleep for at least eight hours on the side of the road in order to not be in a state of dozing off... so I pushed on.

I sent out a few texts hoping for some company on the road. I heard back from my sister Jen, who reminded me to be careful texting while driving... Which I know to be dangerous, and irresponsible, and bad, and wrong, but I do it anyway sometimes... sorry, but at least I am honest... and I don’t do it with my kids in the car... scout’s honor. That way I could turn up my music really loud, put the AC on high, set the cruise control and still carry on a conversation. I believed all of these components were necessary to stay awake.

Lesson of the Week

What I learned this week... Well even though I keep hearing it, I keep experiencing it, I keep hurting because of it (for years now).... I was unable to believe it. Once I begrudgingly resigned myself to accept it though... my pain, fear and emotional turmoil was lightened (No no no... not entirely removed, that would be asking too much, but close enough and I am grateful for that.)

Here IT is.... There is NO human being that I know or will ever know that can fulfill me, make me happy or meet my needs. The more I think and believe that another person can do these things for me, the more I am discontented with myself and my relationships. When I accept that the only way for me to have peace, happiness, fulfillment is to give my life over to God and let him lead. He is the ONLY certainty that I can ever completely count on. He will always love me unconditionally, even with my countless and ever emerging flaws.

Off and on all week, I was thrown a curve here or there by people in my life. My reactions ranged from anger and sadness to anxiety and disappointment. But I was actually able to curtail those emotions from developing into full blown tantrums, cuss outs or target practice.

I recognized my feelings, acknowledged that they were valid (at least somewhat), and allowed myself to feel them. Then I remembered that I didn’t need to go over the edge, because I have a power much greater than myself that will give me peace and solutions. I have a power that will put all right with the world. Just by knowing and remembering that things would work out, that I would be loved no matter the outcome, I was able to let go of my emotional baggage. I do not have to feel let down, lonely or worried when I put my faith in God.

Now putting too much faith in a human being, well that is an entirely different story... a trap we all fall into from time to time. Certainly we should and do believe in each other, but if we base our self-worth and happiness on another person, then we are likely to be miserable, if not immediately, it will eventually happen. Lets face it... nobody is even close to perfect and nobody wants exactly what we want. So even when I felt wronged, I was able to know that it would work out, that I need not feel destroyed, despondent or hopeless. Instead I felt assured and peaceful; I smiled from the inside out.

Oh and let me not forget to share lesson #2... when you drive away too fast in a blue minivan, turns out you don’t look all I-gotta-need-for-speed. Whoever happens to be watching your display of raw V6 power, just thinks you are mad... Go figure? I have to laugh at myself for that one... I’m such a dork!

Walking on the Edge

I scan the surface of the grey-blue face, seeking the longest most challenging path to the top. My first grip doesn’t hold as I attempt to heft myself up with one foot jammed into a crevasse. Running my fingers along the ridges of the rock, I hope to find a lip that will provide more leverage for my next attempt.

Pulling and pushing at once, I lift off the ground, pressing my cheek against the smooth, cool stone. Ever scanning for my next hand hold, I know I cannot remain in one position too long. Already I feel my left toe slipping, loosing its grasp. My mind focuses, exploring the possibilities, thrill surging my pulse.

Moving on without hesitation, maintaining three points of contact, I quickly scale the 15 feet to the first landing. Balancing on one foot and then the other, I feel my breath catch with excitement as I teeter on the edge and then move on to the next and highest ledge.

Looking out over the pool that awaits, fear seeps in. Excitement, rushes through my veins, reflexively turning up the corners of my mouth. To calm myself, I chatter on to onlookers, to myself. What do I fear most? The distance, the impact? No... the cold, definitely the cold.

In mid-sentence, I step off the edge, surprising the witnesses... myself. I hear a scream of joy, of fear, of ecstasy, echoing off the cliff, my scream. As I plummet into the icy water, my knees pull up into a ball, my arms pull down to slow my descent. Enveloped by the clear emerald waters, the suns rays pierce the surface, illuminating the four feet of water above my head. It is like gazing up through a massive green marble.

A succession of resolute and furious kicks send me bursting through the river’s surface. My lungs gasp, not so much for air but in reaction to the crushing cold. Half way to the bank my chest seizes to the chill, I can not breath. My too-often-taken-for-granted arms and legs do not fail, but carry me to the bank. With unexpected effort, I crawl from the water. Falling upon the beach in exhaustion, I wrap myself in the warmth of the sand, struggling for breath, laughing for joy, beaming from ear to ear, gratefully knowing I am alive.

Crippled by Indecision

Recently someone tried to impart me with the knowledge that the most precarious place we can exist is in a state of indecision. For in this position we are not only miserable, but we are not growing or moving forward in our lives.

If we are faced with what seems like a life altering decision, having to chose A over B can be overwhelming, almost crippling. It can seem utterly impossible to decide which is the best choice? Which will result in the least negative consequences? Which will hurt more or less, to ourselves and others? In the long run which is the right and best thing to do?

Sometimes the actual state of indecision seems less painful or fraught than either of the possible choices. So we remain in this unresolved place, hoping for a solution through fate or revelation.

When I was younger, I was faced with a choice that I felt could alter my future irreparably. Though I had always planned to attend college after high school and structured my studies accordingly, I came to a point when I was unsure if that was actually what I should do.

I became involved in a relationship with a boy that was not very healthy. He was controlling and abusive, but at that time in my life, I was deeply in love. He stated in no uncertain terms that if I chose to go off to college, he couldn’t promise he would be there when I got back. His motives were not that of honesty, but of control.

But I was left with a difficult decision: Go to college and possibly lose him or stay in my hometown with him. Obviously this may seem like a no-brainer, but he was the strongest influence in my life at that time, and even though I knew my father wanted me to go to college, he didn’t attempt to influence me with much force. And even if he had, I don’t know if I would I have given it any heed?

It’s tricky being angry and grateful in the same breath

I just want to check and see if it is OK if I openly hate all men this week? Sorry guys... I just need to embrace my anger and go with it. Nothing personal really. It's not ALL men, just the one's I have managed to come in contact with this week. Self-centered, arrogant, clueless, BS...

I have been going to AA meetings since January, and it has been a great source of peace and spirituality for me. It is amazing how you can share the most intimate details of your life with a room full of complete strangers just because you are all drunks. As someone put it so eloquently, "I wouldn't drink with most of you people, but I'll get sober with you."

So I’ve spent a lot of time soul searching and sometimes crying at these meetings over the last couple months. I have disclosed vague details of the demise of my male relationships that has occurred recently. And when I got tired of feeling sorry for myself and whining at every meeting, well I shifted into a rage. And that is how I am feeling now.... pissed. Wanting to scream at the top of my lungs, pound on the walls, pissed.

And to top off the ‘I hate MEN’ week that I’m having... tonight this guy who I’ve seen in the past at meetings, asks me for my phone number right in the middle of the meeting... He starts to explain that he too has just gone through a rough relationship break up and for him the thing that helped most was to talk to people, so he thought maybe I wanted to talk sometime or get some coffee and discuss what I 'm going through... ARE YOU KIDDING ME? REALLY?? Do I look like I just fell off a dumb truck...??

But in lue of anger or pain, pounding and screaming, tears and hatred, and utter head-shaking disbelief, I am choosing to be grateful. Grateful for all the men in my life that are wonderful and truly keep me sane.

I am grateful for my father who is one of the kindest men I know. I am thankful for my oldest brother for believing that Life is but a Dream, my middle brother who I love to go camping with, and my baby brother who felt my pain as deeply as I did.

I am truly appreciative of my children’s father (even when he was on my hit list at times this week) for being a great dad, for my brother-in-law for looking out for me, and for my guy friends who love me for me and never expect more. And I am ever grateful for my grandpa Max, who I named my son after, for buying me my first BB gun, teaching me how to fish, telling me stories, and always making me smile. Miss you Grandpa...

I actually feel much better now. It’s a bit tricky being angry and grateful in the same breath. And it is impossible to hate ALL men. Honestly I don’t really hate anyone... sorry I even thought that out loud. I just don’t like hurting and weeping and fuming, so I am choosing to let that tornado of emotions go... I cried, I raged, I forgave. Now I’m moving on.

Finding myself Single

A few days ago as I was writing a blog post and roaming the Internet until 3:00 in the morning, I noticed that my husband had changed his 'Relationship Status' on Facebook to Single.

He only did this a couple weeks ago, but I started wondering who else had seen this. And not that it mattered who has seen it, but it is kind of strange that I didn't notice it for days. But if it's out on Facebook, well then it is fair game Hon and I can write about it here on my blog... I promise to be nice :-)

I wasn’t going to write about it directly. I wanted to keep it private for now and just skirt around it. But anyone who knows me and has seen any of my recent articles, may have read between the lines and wondered what was going on anyway...

In October, we will have been married for 15 years. We have known each other for over 18 years... and we have three wonderful children. When you get a divorce (yes... that’s right we are getting a divorce) it is your children you worry about the most. You stay together and keep trying long after you should have thrown in the towel and stopped making each other miserable... because of the children.

At least I know that my husband and I will remain partners for life in raising and supporting our children even after our divorce. My oldest daughter already knows, and seems to be handling it ok. When we told her it was almost as if she already knew and was somewhat relieved. Kids aren‘t fooled by our idiotic attempts to pretend something is what it isn’t. We have both talked with her, making sure she can say or ask whatever she needs without ever blaming herself for our failure.

Stupid Silly Girl

Have you ever put yourself into a situation that you knew most likely from the onset wasn't going to turn out well. Your sixth sense tried to warn you, but you pushed on without regard, because you had ulterior motives, or more often than not, in my case... lacked sound judgment.

Like that blind date I agreed to go on with a friend of a friend. I didn’t find him attractive, his car reeked of the early 80’s and three glasses of wine later he wasn’t any more charming. I guess I went out with him because I was bored and didn’t at the time have any better prospects... stupid, silly girl. As he drove me home at 185/mph (literally) with my nails dug into the arm rest, I just kept thinking please God don't let me die next to this moron.

And my little known secret of the time I decided to tie the knot in Las Vegas in the middle of the night... in a black dress.  That should have been a clear omen right there... Definitely not well thought out, but we are all allowed at least one major lapse, aren’t we?

Then there was that time I went to an audition at a small artsy-fartsy theatre company in the Haight-Ashbury district.  I nervously read cold from a script written by the company’s producer-director-playwright who was a too-full-of-himself ass, but I smiled and sucked up, hoping for a bit part.  His lovely assistant though was literally my doppelganger... which must have given me false comfort.

I was hopeful that being kept so long engaged in uninteresting chit-chat (2-1/2 hours) meant I had impressed him with my acting abilities.... again, I was a stupid, silly girl.

At the end of my audition, he asked if I would be willing to pose nude for him... really... unbelievable, the nerve of this guy!?! He wanted to sketch me side-by-side with his assistant. Fine, whatever... as long as I got paid. I was a starving college student, who thought herself above the trappings of conventional modesty or clothing.  Or at least I was trying to convince myself of that. Whatever the case, I really couldn’t afford principles that month so I agreed.

Pursuing Happiness

I am sure that you have heard me say it before, but if we aren't honest about who we are... to ourselves and others... if we live a facade... we can NEVER attain lasting fulfillment and happiness.

Fear is the principal motivator for our masquerades. We pretend to be something that we are not or we fail to reveal what is really in our hearts because of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, fear of judgement, fear we will not be forgiven, fear of anger or hostility, fear we will not be accepted or loved for who we really are.

Letting fear dictate our lives becomes habitual, a vicious circle that will only lead to resentment if we are found out. And we can expect nothing less than discontent in all aspects of our lives, if we cannot be honest with ourselves. Our relationships will continue to we superficial and unsatisfying, our ambitions will leave us empty, our dreams will remain out of reach...

Is that what any of us wants from our life? Living a life that only allows us to be half of what we are... substituting things for feelings, seeking approval instead of substance, grasping for accomplishment, instead of living fully, wholly, here and now...

I know that I don’t want a fragment or fraction of life. I don‘t want an existence that denies a portion of myself!

Only When I Breathe

I break, pieces fall,
Dark world swallow this torment,
  Smother my anguish,
I am to waste away and
  Miss you only when I breathe

Insomnia Delirium

Sleep deprivation is starting to wreak havoc on me this week. My insomnia stems from having a lot on my mind... contemplation, reflection, speculation, concern.  Issues of the mind and heart...things that can not simply be forgotten or resolved. Things to work out, work through. Life stuff.

I've only slept around eight hours in the last five days.  I'm not whining, but I am starting to feel my personality amplify and distort... which, I assure you, is the last thing I need.

I'm overly emotional, hyper-sensitive, edgy, wired and having difficulty focusing. I also have this habit of talking too much. By the time I realize I’m doing it, I can’t remember the point at which I started or was trying to make. Just like now...

Looking for ways to overcome my present bout with insomnia, I read online (because I'm not quite feeling paranoid enough this morning) not getting enough sleep can lead to depression, weight gain, low self-esteem and brain SHRINKAGE.

The silver lining... I also found a list of 78 things to do when you can't fall asleep (that's such a random number.) After a certain point frustration sets in and you might as well get up and do something productive. Some are definitely worth trying, but a lot of them just cracked me up. I needed to laugh today...

Clean out your medicine cabinet
Read the Yellow Pages to learn about your community
Pluck your eyebrows
Memorize 5 new words from the dictionary
Free write everything that pops into your head
Clean the bathroom
Pray
Update your resume
Clip your nose hairs
Face your demons
Look at the stars
Sweep your deck or balcony
Pretend you're asleep
Draw your living room
Paint a self portrait
Make soup
Lie on the grass
Lie in the snow
Lie in the rain
Don't lie to yourself

When I have suffered through sleepless periods in the past, I’ve gone shopping in the middle of the night at stores open 24-hours, watched my children sleep (and taken pictures), chatted online with insomniac friends and created lengthy lists of things I need to do or that are bothering me.  Or I do as the Savage Chickens, ”Sometimes I lie awake all night worrying about insomnia.”

As I hash out the concerns in my life and future, finding resolution and acceptance, my thoughts will eventually quiet. Until that point though, I am following a slap-happy trail into delirium, where I’ll be making chicken soup in my medicine cabinet with brain shriveling demons. No rest for the weary...

Chinks in my Armor

It is said like attracts like; we are drawn to others who possess similar energy, optimism and motivation. This certainly seems to be the case in the majority of relationships I've had. When I was looking at things as half empty, that is what I got in return. When pessimism prevailed in my psyche, doom and gloom became my partner. The chinks in our armor can unwittingly attract what we want least, but invariably our mind-set determines the outcome.

When I was in college, I befriended a young man who on the outset appeared charismatic and witty, distracting me from the mundane chore of waiting tables, deftly matching my sarcasm tit for tat.

Though he was a couple years younger than I, we were like Tom and Jerry, making laughter our means of getting through each 5:00 AM shift. Our pranks were not selfishly confined to ourselves; we gladly taunted our fellow coworkers who were often peeved with our diversions.

Outside of work, we spent time together as well... seeing movies, canvassing the mall, sharing our wish lists for the future. He introduced me to his friends, I introduced him to mine.

Lane’s dark eyes and disheveled hair gave him an intellectual yet brooding air that made women, young and old stare. Shrinking down his six-foot frame into his faded green army jacket, he would pretend not to notice. If I teased about the obvious attention he drew, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Our friendship held no romantic aspirations or hang ups, at least not for me. But I mistakenly assumed he shared my sentiment and my lack of clarity would have painful, almost fatal, ramifications in the months ahead.

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.

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.

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.