Still not mother of the year

The past few weeks, my life has been a little busier than normal. I’ve felt–quite frequently–like I had a lot of balls in the air, and that one of them was bound to drop sooner or later. I have been talking to myself. A lot. I fit in pretty well at the nursing home. It’s like when I am trying to remember a phone number, I’ll say it over and over again in my mind since I can never find a paper to write it down.

Now, however, I’m saying all these things in my head because I wrote them down somewhere, but I can’t find the damn paper so my inner dialogue is like, “Pick up Peyton at 5 or 7, wait what day is it: Monday, okay 5, I think. Lily has gymnastics. Drop off the recycling. Pick up my mom’s laundry. Bring her insurance card. Did I bring her clean undershirts and the kind of socks she likes? Did I text Chloe good morning? Did I check on Lori? Did I pack lunches this morning or were the kids buying? Did we study spelling words or did Lily really write “whore” instead of “were” anyway?” True story. Good that her teacher is a precious angel who finds humor in my parenting shortcomings.

All of this has made me feel much more compassionate toward those around me as I think most of us probably have way more going on than anyone knows. Since, I’m always trying to work those four agreements and lots of times getting stuck on not taking things personally, this is helping.

I have a really bad habit of sinking into myself. Crawling into my shell and dropping out of every inessential (by inessential, I mean no one will die if I don’t show up) part of my life. That means, I don’t really talk to my friends. I don’t go anywhere with anyone. Often I’m short if I remember to respond at all. All of this is an effort to protect and nourish my spirit, but it can often seem to people who care about me, that I’m mad at them or being a bitch. I’m really so sorry.

I’m working on doing a better job of communicating. And at the same time, I’m going to make some vows to you, my girlfriends, who are doing so much more than anyone knows, often at the expense of taking care of yourself the way you need and deserve to be loved and cared for. If you would, though, please pass it on…

1. If you forget to pick your son up from any sporting event, I will take him home. I will not tell anyone that you forgot or give you any shit about it. We don’t ever have to speak of it.
2. Those pants look good on you. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow too if that is what you choose. I don’t care how often you do laundry or if you gained 10 pounds and they’re the only comfortable thing you have. I promise I didn’t even notice until you told me.
3. Your daughter is beautiful even if her clothes don’t match and are too small. I know that she has a whole wardrobe of matching adorable clothes but it isn’t worth fighting with her in the morning.
4. I don’t judge you for yelling at your kids. Good lord, if someone had a hidden camera in my car or house, child protective services would be at my door daily. I am at times a horrible raving lunatic.
5. I couldn’t care less if your kids valentines aren’t homemade. I force my child to do crafts so we can bond, dammit; she would much rather have store bought ones. We’re all works in progress.

I could go on and on and on. Sometimes we are just so mean to each other. Judging and comparing and competing and gossiping and bleck, bleck, bleck. I promise you all, right now, if you’re reading this: I am never going to judge you, your clothes, your kids, your parenting, your weight, your hair or anything else. I get it. I understand. I feel you. My mantle is still void of a mother of the year trophy. Actually, I don’t even have a mantle! What do you think about that?

Please, let’s be kind to each other. And more than that? Let’s be kind to ourselves.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 7

The first week is almost over, and as far as the Daniel fast goes, I feel bloated, defeated, dissatisfied and tired of cooking. As far as the 21 days of gratitude challenge goes, I feel encouraged, satisfied, inspired and well, grateful. I’ve also enjoyed the consistent writing. Anne Lamott, my idol and secret soul sister (it’s a secret because she doesn’t know we’re soul sisters) says that if you want to be a writer you have to show up at the same time every day and write. So, this has been a great exercise in showing up and writing–not necessarily at the same time, but in the same place. I’m a work in progress.

1. I love Sunday mornings, so it is super easy to be grateful for: sweet sleeping children, a warm safe home, a wonderful husband who will bring me a cup of coffee in bed as soon as he hears me roll over. I cherish these quiet minutes of gratitude in the morning.

2. Again, I feel as if paying closer attention and trying to be present has made every interaction more special and meaningful. Right now, I’m surrounded by 3 of my 4 people, and our house is filled with the amazing aroma of sweet potato and black bean soup. We spent a fun-filled evening surrounded by great friends, and I came home to a sweet surprise gift from another lovely friend. My whole day was sprinkled with the most endearing little interactions. This morning, at church, we served in Mini Movement (little ones up to 4), and usually this wears me out, tries my patience and gives me a headache, but this morning, each little one seemed to offer some sweet blessing. From my friend’s tiny towhead who leaped into my arms repeatedly giggling, “Tickle, tickle, tickle,” to another little peanut who shyly climbed into my lap and sweetly whispered, “I really want my daddy,” these tinies touched my heart. Honestly, even the little boy whom I had to wrestle to keep him from crawling under the divider into the other side of the room made me smile later as he drove a matchbox car up and down my arm. Then his little brother took the same matchbox car and junk punched Brad Bell, and I might have rolled around laughing on the floor. He was fine, you guys, it was just a little boy, and I think boys/men instinctively flinch and protect that area if they sense something is headed that way. Besides, we’re from Warren; the baby thugs are our people.

3. I don’t know why I always forget to do this. Max Lucado says in a webcast promoting his latest book, Before Amen, that we could avoid so much worry and anguish if we would just remember to take our problems to God before our problems get to us. So I’m praying for God to bring me a person to thank. Amen.

With one week almost done, I feel a renewed commitment to see this through. I have seen small miracles taking place all around me, and I’m not sure if it’s due to the prayer and fasting or simply the increased mindfulness and attention to grace and goodness. It doesn’t matter either way. It just matters that there is good, so much good, so many people to love and so many people who love you back. So many opportunities to offer kindness, compassion and love. I’m grateful for the ever-increasing awareness.

Thank you so much for your comments, texts, emails and calls. You guys have encouraged me so much. This is just a 21 day journey, but isn’t this really what our every day journey is about? Sharing with others, reaching out to offer a kind word, a helping hand or just to pat a fellow traveler on the arm and say, “Me too.”

What are you cooking this week? I gotta get off the rice and quinoa, or my ass is gonna have its own zip code. For. Real.

xoxo

Give a little Grace

I have been reading lately about healing and focusing on deep hurts that cause angry, defensive reactions. Because, I’m really ashamed to admit, I have a bad temper and sometimes have really disproportionate angry reactions to silly things.

For example, I burned my finger on a glue gun while making a banner. I curbed my initial reaction to scream obscenities. However, inside me this huge angry reaction was brewing that had to go somewhere. I picked up the end of the kitchen table and let it slam down. When the table slammed down, the anger released, but the plate that was holding the glue gun broke, and my tiny girlfriend started to cry.

Cue the guilt and shame tape that goes like this, “You’re an asshole. You can’t control your temper. You don’t deserve to have these sweet little kids; you’re a lunatic. Way to go. You’re just like your dad.”

And in about 25 seconds, I had gone from pain to rage to feeling about an inch tall.

I apologized to Lily and explained to her that I had reacted inappropriately to pain with anger, and I was sorry for scaring (and probably scarring) her. We talked about some times that our reactions didn’t exactly match our feelings or the particular situation and then finished making our craft without further incident.

For the rest of the night, shame gripped me pretty tightly. I had to delve into my reaction and the motivation behind it. Once I did that and realized that my reaction was something that had been ingrained in me from childhood–when you get upset about something let your rage out on an inanimate object–I was able to deal with it and remind myself that having a bad reaction didn’t make me a bad person.

Guilt and shame always go together for me–the dynamic duo of damnation–so I was enlightened to read Brene Brown’s definition in The Gifts of Imperfection. She explains that guilt says “You did something bad,” and shame says, “You are bad.” I still think they’re a terrifying team, but now I see them more clearly.

Brown goes on to say that we can steal the power away from this team if we talk about the stuff that makes us feel this way and bring it to light. Just make sure that you share with someone you really trust.

She gives a list of people you don’t want to choose, such as:

• Anyone who makes you feel worse about yourself. They will look at you with shock and judgment and say things like, “Oh…my.”
• One-uppers. You know them. They respond to everything with, “Oh that’s nothing, let me tell you about the time…”
• Those with low self-esteem who will use this as an opportunity to feel superior–think, drowning victims who push others down to get themselves to the surface. “Oh, I never have inappropriate reactions in front of my kids, but that’s just me.”
• Condescending jerks. Pretty much the same as above with a heightened air of superiority.

***Please note that sometimes jerks look and sound and act like friends until you share something like this with them***

So, my week has been a lot of, “Yikes, where did that come from? Why does it bother me when people do a.b.c.d?” and more. This isn’t a huge change. I’m always analyzing and overthinking and trying to do better, but sometimes it’s not in the actual moment. I’m steadily trying to live the Four Agreements, but it’s a lot of trial and error.

I spent many years feeling broken and damaged because of things that happened to me, but I am realizing in this decade* that labeling myself is not only unnecessary but it is also unkind. Yes, bad things happened to me, but really great things have happened too. By reconciling that I can simultaneously grieve loss and embrace blessings, by realizing that my past doesn’t define me, and by reminding myself that every moment is an opportunity to embrace and extend grace, I’ve cleared my path from lots of tangled roots that tripped me up.

A few weeks ago the super-wise 20-year-old guru I’m blessed to call my daughter said that she felt fortunate that her dad and I hadn’t really f#$%ed her up. We keep it really real. She said she always felt loved and free to express herself. This was such an impactful statement, as I have questioned everything I did as a mother for 20 years. In fact, the only thing I knew for sure was that I loved these little people God let me hold for awhile more than I had ever known was possible.

I’m pretty convinced some days that I’m messing Peyton and Lily up in some significant way. The nasty shrew in my head tells me all the time that I am worthless and have no business raising these amazing kids. I question myself all the time. And then I shhhhhhh them, breathe and keep going. I’m not sharing this because I need reassurance, but because someone else might feel the same. Do you? Let me encourage you: If you worry this much about what kind of person or wife or parent you are, I’m pretty confident that you are already amazing.

Give yourself some grace. And give the people who make different choices grace too. Namaste.

*The jury is still out on 40 because the emotional and spiritual rewards seem to come at the expense of some crazy things like thinning hair and brain fog and achy joints.

Just Don’t be a Jerk

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. We are fresh off a month of giving thanks and the kids and I are headed for our annual pilgrimage to Camp Mowana to Make Room for Jesus. So, I’m gonna need to get this off my chest real quick.

I’m going to blame my sister-in-law–who posted this article and got me all stirred up–for my angst. It’s been simmering for a long time ready to boil over though … so … I have to let it out. And by the way, that list doesn’t mention the standard mom uniform: Uggs, Miss Me jeans, NorthFace and designer purse. Come on now; is that just Cortland?

What people wear isn’t my business or concern though. And lots of my friends wear that uniform. I love you girls; you’re fabulous!

Here’s what bothers me: drop off and pick up. This might be a universal issue, as certainly entitlement and lack of empathy are symptoms of the global selfishness epidemic, but I can only address the Lakeview schools.

Recently, I have adopted the mindset of talking to my problems rather than about them, and it is in that spirit that I have compiled a list of tips re: drop-off and pick up protocol. Since there is no suggestion box, here you go:

1. The speed limit in front of the school is 20. Even when you’re running late. If your kid is tardy, it isn’t the end of the world. By the way, it’s still 20 when you pull out of the parking lot. You don’t get to run someone else’s kid over just because yours is safely in the building, which leads me to #2.

2. Slow down in the parking lot. There are people everywhere. If you run someone over, that will be far worse than being late for work. Everyone has bad mornings sometimes, but reckless disregard for other people is unacceptable. Slow down. Pay attention. If you are going to just idle there by the entrance while your big kid walks in, at least look before you pull away. Lots of people are actually walking their little kids to the door. Don’t run them over, you jerk.

3. Park in a parking spot. Just one. 40 other people also need to park to pick up their children so be mindful. Driving a giant SUV does not give you the right to park wherever you want. Park in an actual space–they are indicated by lines. You and your children are not handicapped and do not deserve special privileges. Thank God for your healthy working legs and then use them to walk to your car. Jerk.

4. That line of people? They’re all waiting to pick their kids up too. So don’t walk past them all and then yank on the door handle. It’s not gonna open, bro. Did you think we were all just standing here because we like the cold? That’s right; go to the back of the line. Yes, we are all laughing at you. Jerk.

5. When the door opens and you push through to make sure your kid is the first one into class, remember that there are 20+ little kids coming right behind yours. Don’t let the door slam in their faces. That’s terrible. And guess what: Their parents think that they’re the most important kid in the world too. Also, if someone holds the door for you? Thank them and then hold the door for the next person. Don’t just leave that guy standing there holding the door for everyone. That’s not cool. He was trying to be nice. He has to go to work too. Next time he might let it slam on your kid. All because you were a jerk!

6. We’re all busily heading somewhere, but it literally takes 35 seconds for the buses to exit the parking lot. I timed it. Just be patient. Trust me: They will be out of the parking lot before you can tweet about how annoyed you are or how the jerk in front of you held up people exiting the parking lot to let the stupid buses go. I let the buses out. I see you flipping me off. It’s okay. I like your purse. Even if you think I’m a jerk.

7. Finally, let me reiterate: If someone is looking at their phone, it is probably because they don’t want to talk to anyone. It’s not rocket science. Leave them alone. Surely there is another dad somewhere…

Some days I leave the school feeling very sad for humanity, wondering if anyone is capable of empathy and compassion anymore. Fortunately, I quickly realize that for every person who lets the door slam on someone else’s kid, there are 5 who hold the door. For every person who parks where there isn’t a space, there are 5 who walk farther in the rain rather than inconvenience others. For every person who nearly runs you over to get out 3 seconds quicker, there are 2 or 3 who wave you on ahead of them.

It’s kind of like life, right? There are people who are just out for themselves, but there are others (hopefully more) who are concerned with humanity as a whole. I can’t change anyone, but I can be kind and thoughtful, and I can raise people who hold doors, say thank you, park in parking spots and think about others and not just themselves. I can try not to be a jerk or raise jerks.

Thanks for listening, friends. I feel way better.

Don’t Go Off Half-Cocked

For the first year that my sweet oldest child was away at school, I woke frequently in the middle of the night in a full blown panic. Is she okay? Where is she? What if something happened to her? Why didn’t she text me? And so on until my breath came in quick gasps, and my heart was ready to pound out of my chest. This only happened a few times before I realized I had a choice: Trust God or lose my mind. I relinquished control, and now when I wake in the night, instead of worrying, I pray.

A few months ago, after reading Seven Sacred Pauses, I felt drawn to the idea of praying at specific times during the day and night and began trying to practice in a more organized way. Unfortunately, the more I tried to make it a part of my schedule, the more it evaded my control. Again with control.

Why?

Frequently, an idea comes to me, and I run full speed ahead and sometimes into a wall. Looking back I realize that God is still there, the idea is still there, and the only one who moved was me…ninety miles an hour into a wall. My dad used to say, “Now don’t go off half-cocked,” which I never understood. I just googled it. It means “to go into action too early or without thinking.” Yes, that applies. Thanks, Dad 

By trying to schedule praying into my day, I realized that I consistently pray at regular times of the day. In other words, when I stopped to think about it, I realized I was already doing the task I was trying to implement. This led to considering all the books I read, all the studying and journaling and introspection. Then, last week in meditation, I heard very clearly, “You know enough.” Since I don’t often hear guidance quite that clearly, it struck me. I knew immediately what it meant: Stop using self-improvement as an excuse to avoid moving forward.

Mark Batterson observes that most people “…are educated way beyond the level of their obedience. We don’t need to KNOW MORE. We need to DO MORE with what we know.” Kind of leaps off Maya Angelou’s, “I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.” Many of us already know our purpose, but we put it off waiting to be better equipped or holding out for a big opportunity instead of just doing the little things. Much of our life is lived in the meantime as we wait for our big break.

For me this means: Send a text or make a phone call (I. Hate. Making. Phone. Calls.) Write something … anything. Send an encouraging Facebook message. Apologize. Forget perfectionist tendencies and handwrite a letter. Occasionally it means patiently listen to my tiny chatterbox when I want to tell her to hurry because we’re going to be late. I’m called to express mercy and compassion, not just in big ways but in every way.

So a whole lot of quotes and clichés and dead dad wisdom later, I think my point is: Don’t get so caught up in finding your purpose that you miss it altogether. You might one day write the great American novel, but today you can send an email to a lonely friend. Perhaps you will run a marathon next year; today you can run around the block. Someday you might be the voice of your generation, but in this moment you can speak kindly to the cashier at Walmart.

It’s okay to run ninety miles an hour in the direction of your dreams; just keep your eyes open so you don’t miss all the opportunities along the way. It’s great to want to save the world, but today it might be enough just to ignore the voices that say you can’t … even if those voices are only in your own head.

I’m Sorry If I _______

I spend a great deal of time thinking about why we are who we are. Some of us question everything we say, agonize over something that could have been misinterpreted, and worry that our words might have unintentionally offended or hurt someone. Others bumble through life completely oblivious that their words or behavior might make someone feel bad. And still others, when alerted that they hurt or offended someone scoff that the person was too sensitive, claim their words or actions were misinterpreted, or worse turn the situation around and blame the victim.

Some people pride themselves on speaking their mind, having no filter. That’s fine, live and let live. I believe that meme* that says how people treat others says more about who they are than who I am. I strive to speak kindly to everyone, but often that is easier outside of my home than inside.

Once, a friend at church said, “How do you always have it so together?” I love her. She is a gem. But, I love her too much to let her believe that I have anything together. So I told her ten minutes earlier I was screaming and swearing and threatening my children’s lives if they didn’t get their teeth brushed as my husband calmly tried to hustle everyone out the door. He has it pretty well together, thank goodness.

But even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t spend hours analyzing his behavior. He rolls through life without the burden of analyzing what people say to him or what he says to them. He does not give a second thought about who said what to whom or what so-and-so might have meant when she said such-and-such. Lots of people can do this. I don’t think it’s a male-female thing because I know super-aware men and completely oblivious women.

So what is it that makes some of us able to let stuff go while others are compelled to ruminate? While I haven’t found an answer, extensive research (and tons of overthinking) has lead me to the following principles that I try to follow:

1. Surround yourself with genuine people. Then you don’t have to worry about passive-aggressiveness and ulterior motives. I promise you I never wonder what any of my friends meant by what they said because they meant exactly what they said.
2. Think before you speak. If you have to preface something with, “I don’t mean this to be offensive,” it’s probably offensive, so just don’t say it. I practice this with my mom all the time: She says, “I don’t mean for you to take this the wrong way,” and I say, “If you are concerned about my taking it wrong, you probably shouldn’t say it.” She always says it anyway.
3. Apologize freely. Not in a submissive or “giving away your power” way, but in an honest-to-goodness you mean something to me and it hurts me that I inadvertently hurt you. I mostly apologize to my kids and my husband as they bear the brunt of my bad behavior. But now, instead of wondering if I’ve offended someone, if I think I did, I apologize.
4. Stand up for yourself. You don’t have to be confrontational to tell someone that their words or actions upset you. I’m not a super-huge Dr. Phil fan, but this line of his always sticks with me: We teach people how to treat us. Sometimes we need to remind them what is and isn’t okay.
5. Don’t offer unsolicited advice and opinions. They are rarely helpful and nearly always taken the wrong way; refer to #2. (I’m already thinking that you might be thinking this list is unsolicited advice. Touche. This is just what I do though, I’m not telling you what to do.)

I still overthink a lot of what I say and do, but I don’t read as much into others’ behaviors. This frees up an enormous amount of time and energy to criticize myself. Kidding. Mostly. What works for you?

* I wanted to insert an image, but I couldn’t find a grammatically correct one. I can’t support that.

Forgiveness and gossip and offense, Oh My!

When I’m struggling with a particular issue or better yet, when I think I am NOT struggling with a particular issue, I find myself confronted with multiple lessons on the issue. Perhaps, my heightened awareness makes me pay closer attention, or perhaps God, knowing that I require multiple examples from many different angles before I can get something, sends in the heavenly troops.

For example, just this past week: I read about forgiveness, kind of dismissed it thinking, “I’m a pretty forgiving person.” Immediately I was confronted with a host of past hurts that, guess what, I haven’t forgiven–strike one. Next, I read about gossip, and thought, “I don’t really say mean things about people.” Then I walked in on two people gossiping about me and my youngest child and said HORRIFICALLY unkind things about them–strike two. Finally, I read about offense, and I got scared. Hard as I try not to take things personally, I fall short most of the time. So, I prayed, “Lord, please…I all ready know that is an area where I need work,”–check swing.

The Revelation: Wow. I suuuuccccckkkkk.

It would have been easy to beat myself up for my reactions, agonize over how little progress I have made, and wallow in self-defeating guilt. Fortunately, I realized that the point of the lessons was not to drag me down, but to lift me up. The point was to realize that I can’t change the past–not what I did and not what anyone else did. But I can stop that cycle of bitterness and resentment when it gets to me. I can’t change what people think or say about me, my kids, or anyone else behind our backs, but I can stop that gossip right here. I can react with kindness, compassion, and forgiveness.

This is much easier said than done–obv (shoutout to Chloe), but I’m going to keep working at it. And every moment I’m breathing is an opportunity to do so.

As Lysa TerKeurst reminds me: “I was made for more than being stuck in a vicious cycle of defeat. I am not made to be a victim of my poor choices. I was made to be a victorious child of God.” Amen, sisters.