I’m Right Here

One and a half weeks ago, on a Friday afternoon that was of little consequence to many other people, my firstborn graduated from college.

We were so excited. Like the people you see celebrating the very first person in their family to graduate from college. So stupid excited. She made it. Consequently, we made it. We got pregnant, young, unmarried, naïve, and we beat a boatload of odds. To the naysayers who bet against us, we raised a girl who grew up to be a fucking bad ass. She did it. We did it.

Yeah, we’ve still got two more in process, but let me just bask in this moment…for a moment.

As the processional of graduates entered the gym, I slipped down onto the floor to take a picture of my baby girl. She walked in, and I watched her face light up as she saw her dad, her boyfriend, her siblings, and then I watched her face go blank as her mouth formed the words, “Where’s my mom?” I was literally 2 feet away from her, but she didn’t see me because she was looking up. I said, “I’m right here, Beebs!” She beamed. I took her picture, and she said, “Go! Go!” I wasn’t supposed to be on the floor.

It was another of those moments. Those physical representations of an emotional lesson I need to learn. It was my friend with her arms full of everyone else’s shit. It was my daughter not seeing what was right in front of her because she was looking up.

I spend a lot of my life looking up, overthinking, improving, seeking, reaching and a lot of times missing the beauty of what is right in front of me. I’ve spent too much time not realizing that everything I have ever wanted and more is right here.

For as long as we’ve been a family, I’ve tried to make lots of fun traditions that will turn into happy memories for my kids. While I have some treasured memories from my childhood, too many are unpleasant. One of our traditions, picking out a Christmas tree, has gotten to be rather hectic since Chloe moved out. This year, in fact, it resulted in dragging the children out of bed and into the rain, and some tears–mine–and it crossed my mind that the memory they would probably recall in adulthood was, “Remember how Mom used to freak out and drag us to get the damn Christmas tree every year?”

And I realized that the traditions were as much for me as they were for the kids. I needed to make happy memories to replace the unhappy ones. But I don’t need to force it, I just need to live. Our life is happy. Our kids are happy. It’s not perfect. It might appear to be perfect on Facebook, but for every picture where we are all smiling, there are 5 where Lily is scowling or my eyes are closed or Peyton is making a funny face. And many of the ones where we are all smiling is a result of my screaming, “CAN WE JUST TAKE ONE NICE PICTURE?”

Still…when I was a little girl dreaming of how my life would be when I grew up? I could never have conjured up a life that even compared to the glorious craziness that is our Bellville. So on today’s leg of the journey, I am reminding myself to look not up but at the blessed, silly, wonky-eyed imperfection that is right in front of me.

21 Days: Day 20 and TWENTY-ONE

It is with great relief that I’m writing this last installment. I honestly couldn’t bring myself to write yesterday after suffering from a serious bout of second guessing. It’s crazy how sometimes a little tiny bit of negative can infiltrate so much positive and make you question yourself.

Today, I went to the Niles campus of The Movement to hear my favorite Niles Campus pastor speak and was greeted with love, hugs, and several people thanked me for writing this blog and told me that reading about my struggles helped them. That mattered more than any criticism that had me kind of second-guessing if I was being self-indulgent or oversharing.

I strive for self-awareness, but I’m a work in progress. It is usually far easier to see flaws in others than it is to recognize them in ourselves. So I struggle on putting one foot in front of the other and praying for clarity and wisdom.

1. Each day that I woke focused on gratitude, my awareness of the goodness, grace and love around me was heightened, and I will continue to count my blessings day and night.

2. In the worship experience today, one of my favorite singers sang an amazing song. And as her beautiful voice singing the most powerful words sank into my heart, many of the experiences of the last 21 days washed over me, the good, the bad, the trying … they all choked up in my throat and finally spilled out of my eyes and down my cheeks. I wanted to run out of the building and curl up in my car and cry. I’m usually pretty private and choosy with my sharing, but I have opened up my heart, mind and life in this tiny little space and in return, I’ve gotten grace, commiseration and so much love. I’ve also gotten criticized and psychoanalyzed. Most importantly, I’ve gotten chased down by people who told me that my words made a difference to them. Thank you for chasing me down. You made a difference for me.

3. Thank you for reading this and encouraging me. Thank you, Brad Bell, for being patient and long-suffering as I put my neuroses and our life on blast. Thank you, my girlfriends, for being supportive and amazing superwomen. Thank you for every like, comment, text and email. Thank you, my church family for every hug. You all have no idea how much you touch my heart.

Putting all your crazy out there for public consumption sometimes blows up in your face, but all of your love, all of your me too’s, all of your hugs and winks and high fives matter. Thank you for being my people.

I’m feeling pretty raw and overexposed, so I’m gonna crawl into my shell and recover.

I realize listening to that song today that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about why or what I write. God sees my heart, and He knows my motivation.

“Through it all; my eyes are on You, and it is well with me.”*

*This isn’t my favorite Movement singer performing; still, the song, the performance, and the message are awesome.

Thank you!

xoxo

21 Days: Day 10

Mmmmm, two digits. Almost halfway. We are moving a sister this weekend, which reminded me that we moved another sister last year during the Daniel Fast, which reminded me that the best part of moving is the beer and pizza after. There’s not gonna be any beer and pizza, folks.

Today was a pretty normal day–a blessing as “normal” days have been the exception lately. Brad went to work, both kids went to school, and I did 47 loads of laundry and ran the errands I don’t like to think about when Brad and the kids are here.

1. A good night’s sleep makes for a good morning. I hit the snooze button and counted blessings for the whole snooze period. Bed, Brad, kids, friends, a whole day by myself … so many.

2. The extra time home pretty much depleted the kids’ snack cupboard, so after a meeting I headed to ALDI to fill it back up. If you didn’t already know, ALDI has their buggies chained together, so you need to deposit a quarter to get a buggy, then return and re-chain it to get your quarter back. You also have to bring your own bags or boxes. I’m often scatter-brained and have more than a few times found myself there with no quarter and no bags. It’s a great way to save money since you can only buy what you can carry. Unfortunately, if you were planning to do several weeks’ worth of shopping, it’s a downer.

Once, I got the bright idea of paying it forward by leaving my quarter in buggy in case someone came along and didn’t have one. I imagined how thrilled I would have been on one of those quarter-less trips to find an available buggy. So, I’ve been running this shopping buggy ministry for years. Only a few times have I spoken to anyone about it. A person would say, “Hey you forgot your quarter!” And I explained. Usually they smile. Some say it’s a good idea and leave their own quarter. Once, a lady pointed out my mistake. When I told her it was intentional, she looked at me like I had three heads. Then she took her quarter. And mine. I stared dumbfounded as she smugly walked to her car. I said some bad words. If I could have willed a comet to crash to earth right at that moment…

But I told you all this so that it would make sense why I was so ecstatic when I went to ALDI today, and there were FOUR buggies with quarters already in them! People are being kind and thoughtful even if it is in a small seemingly insignificant way. It’s important. That little bitty ripple of kindness you sent out into the world is meaningful. You might never know who you touched or how you impacted them, but if you are sending goodness and love out into the universe, it matters.

3. Well, I mailed the stack of Thank You notes that were on my microwave. Also, I bought some groovy Janis Joplin stamps which made me super happy because I love that little raspy-voiced legend.

Janis is also a member of the 27 Club — famous musicians including Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain and more who died at 27 — which is significant today because it’s my brother Chris’ birthday. He died just a few weeks after his 27th birthday, and he was a rock star to me. So those stamps made me happy even though writing about it now makes me cry. Even after almost 26 years.

Time doesn’t heal wounds, but it affords you space, perspective and opportunity for growth. Life isn’t always fair. It rarely works out how we plan it. Sometimes you have to carry all your groceries in your arms, but sometimes someone leaves a quarter in the buggy. Whatever we do, no matter how small, when we do it with love, it matters.

How are you guys doing today? What are you especially grateful for? Did you make anything remarkable to eat? I bought some cauliflower that I’m gonna try to make into something fabulous. Maybe tomorrow. I’m not feeling it today so I’m subsisting on apples and almonds. Speaking of: Where on earth were honey crisp apples for the first 30-something years of my life? No bother. They are here now. Thank Goodness!

21 Days: Day 8 — LET’S GO BUCKS!

I have to write early because there’s a pretty important football game tonight, and preparing physically and mentally takes a lot of energy. Additionally, my husband is home and bouncing around the house like a little kid on Christmas, and that makes it hard to write. And finally, I have to take my mom to the doctor, which also requires preparation…

Apparently, the snow plow drivers are Buckeyes fans and were already preparing this morning; at least they weren’t plowing the snowy, slushy roads. It was a crappy drive to school so I used the time to give Peyton lots of useful tips about driving in the snow. It sounded a lot like, “See how close this a-hole behind me is? Don’t do that.” He won’t drive for another year, was half asleep and not a bit interested in my monologue, but it soothed me.

1. After three lazy snow days and a weekend, when that alarm sang out at 5 a.m., gratitude wasn’t my initial reaction. Ugh. Bed, Brad, kids, house, car with good tires and 4-wheel drive. I realize, as I’ve been writing about the blessings that my bed is nearly always first. It’s a good bed. Everyone who sleeps in it agrees. The kids love it. Our Florida besties love it. Brad does too. Once, after an extended out-of-town stay for work, as we snuggled in, he whispered “I missed you so much…”

“Me or the bed?” I giggled.

“Both of you.”

2. The good thing about having a husband who travels a lot is that you learn to do lots of things by yourself. That is also the bad thing. You have to because if you don’t do those things no one else will. I used to complain more, but I have a friend whose husband travels a lot as well, and she never complains. She just does stuff, asks someone else to do it, or doesn’t do it. She is one of my many role models. This morning, I dragged 3 garbage cans through 4 inches of heavy, wet snow and then drove P to school without thinking twice about it. I’m not bragging, just stating the facts. When I came home and told Brad that the roads were bad, he said, “Why didn’t you wake me up to take him?” I didn’t think of it because it isn’t usually an option.

I’ve always wanted Brad to take charge of some certain traditional gender role tasks. Take the garbage out. Handle car maintenance. Clean the gutters. You know. But, a funny thing happens sometimes when you’re waiting for someone to take care of you: You learn to take care of yourself. But today, watching my husband who is a) home and b) not only fixing my leaky sink but also replacing the faucet which has been leaking for years, I am almost overwhelmed with glee. When he was home every day, I probably would have been worn out from asking him to fix that sink. My reaction would have been more, “It’s about damn time,” and less, “Look at him! He’s fixing the sink AND the faucet. He’s an angel boy!” Changing circumstances sure can shift your perspective; I see that today with amazing clarity. 

3. Writing daily Thank You notes is teaching me that there are always people to thank. The smallest act of kindness can shift your mood and change your whole outlook. It’s a good reminder that we can and do make a difference.

In Small Victories, Anne Lamott, in a quandary over political and military situations questions her friend, a Jesuit priest, how to help, and he advises: “You take care of the suffering,” reminding her that there are people suffering everywhere. Sometimes we get so caught up in our helplessness on a grand scale that we miss a million little opportunities right in front of us. We forget to smile and hold the door because we’re focused on our destination. We walk past a person picking up their dropped groceries caught up in fussing about what great things we could do instead of grocery shopping. (Or maybe it’s because we’re worried it’s a ploy to rob us because of that email we just read.) We can’t be bothered to pick up a frazzled mom’s change clanging on the dirty Walmart floor as she wrestles her wriggling toddler into the cart because we are waiting for our big break. We’re waiting for God to show us our purpose. That’s the thing though: These little things are our purpose. Slow down, look up, pay attention, love, serve…

Don’t miss out on the beauty of the life you have because you’re waiting for the life you want.

This is gonna be a rough Daniel Fast day. Buckeye parties mean beer, more beer and delicious food that is not fast-approved. I’m going to eat sweet potato and black bean soup, which is delicious even if it’s not pizza or 7-layer Mexican dip. I think I’ll also wear blinders and a nose plug. But I’m already telling you: I’m gonna drink beer.

How’s your Monday? Two of my fellow fasters text me to celebrate their 3 and 1 pound weight losses. I blocked their numbers. I’m kidding… I’ll celebrate with you when you rub my nose in your weight loss, you beeyotches. I’m currently +2. Wooo Hoo.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 5

Well, my friends, I might in fact be addicted to coffee. I had two cups this morning. But, I’m okay with that. Sick of me talking about coffee? I know, right? But I’m all freaking jacked up on the caffeine, man! This is a lot like when I quit smoking and then talked ad nauseum about quitting smoking. I was gonna link one post, but when I searched “quitting smoking” on my blog about 10 posts came up. Like I said, AD NAUSEUM. Interested in quitting smoking or reading about someone who quit/started/quit/started/quit…here you go. It has been almost 2 1/2 years since I quit the last time, by the way, so I consider myself an official ex-smoker, not that I’d ever get complacent with that.

1. Shockingly, school was canceled again today. My sweet fasting sister text me this morning and said, “How the heck are we supposed to make it through three snow days without coffee?” I took a deep inhalation of the creamy delicious cup of salvation in my hand and fessed up that I had raised my white flag. But I was up and at ’em today, counted the heck out of some blessings, did yoga, showered and dressed (WITH makeup on) by 9:30 a.m. I mention this simply because it is a huge feat for me to exercise, shower, and put real clothes on in the morning. Normally I rock gym clothes–whether or not I exercise–and no makeup til mid afternoon. This is a lot. I was super caffeinated–and grateful.

2. Mmmmm…so much today. So. Much. Stuff. I was happy, productive, so “Oh what a beautiful morning, Oh what a beautiful day! I’ve got a beautiful feeeeeeeling Everything’s going my way!” You know, from Oklahoma? Show tunes. Caffeine. Rehab, might be next. Anyhooooo, I have this awesome angel friend who just happens to be a psychiatrist–and a pretty good one according to my gut and also his freaking world-class credentials. We don’t know each other except through one meeting, some mutual friend/relatives and correspondence via writing–by hand and email. He is a very dear kind person. Also probably a good guy to have on your side should you need an expert witness… not that I would. This morning he sent me an article about the benefits of coffee with a sweet note; the subject line read: “Be Kind to Yourself.” You know, in a great big world of people and places and random inner-connectedness, the universe brought me this kind person, who happens to be a mental health professional. Add to that: In two days, two different friends shared with me some pretty freaking soul-crushing shit that was going on in their lives. I love these women like they’re part of me, so to listen to them, hear the aching and questioning in their quavering voices. And you know what I do? Nothing. Listen. Love them. Cry with them. Hold their hands. But that’s enough. That helps. But I feel like, What More Can I Do??? And today, in the midst of my secretly kinda beating myself up for drinking coffee … I mean, a little bit, in a trying-too-hard-to-seem-okay way that trained mental health professionals see through and send you a little note that says, “Be Kind to Yourself.” Phew. Okay. Thank. YOU. That’s really it though; isn’t it? Be kind to yourself. Be kind to other people.  Namaste.

3. I have a really perfect note to write today. To a person I have never ever thanked for how much a person she gave birth to changed my life.

Today was my absolute best day this week. Being around people who really love you…being encouraged by people who really love you…being able to encourage and love people…it’s just so amazing. How are you guys doing? If you need encouraged, email me, call me, text me. Thanks for being with me on this journey!! I love you all.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 3

Today started out wonderfully. Last night, we prayed that school would be canceled today, and lo and behold at 5:45 a.m. it was. We (or I) were super excited for a day of doing nothing but watching movies and snuggling. That is a pipe dream because my little dynamo girl wants an itinerary and a social director, not her actual mom who prefers to sit curled up in a chair trying to cajole her into watching a movie or reading or just snuggling. Anyway, this morning my own mom quickly snapped me out of that daydream by sending me on a drug store errand. I won’t go into detail about said errand, but suffice it to say: It was unsavory. The kind of purchase that might send someone to Walgreens incognito. Fortunately, in my advancing age, I’ve reached a level of self-awareness that no longer lets my self-image get wrapped up in cashiers’ opinions of me and my purchases. Still. The only snuggling was with the cat.

1. I woke up easily because I was anticipating that I’d be able to go back to bed as soon as the superintendent called. So, I drank my hot water with lemon and ginger, counted lots of blessings and was supremely grateful to crawl back into bed at 6:15 a.m. and count a few more.

2. My goal is always to be real and genuine and truthful, so describing today’s meaningful experience also involves divulging that I was nasty today. I was short-tempered with my mom, impatient with Lily, irritated with the geriatric dog and just an all-around bitch. P was wise enough to stay in his room so he didn’t face my wrath. Then, this afternoon, I spent a blissful hour and a half talking to one of my dearest friends on the phone. We laughed until my sides ached and then talked about some serious stuff too. It was like a therapy session and coffee date combined. She is also my best coffee friend. When we worked together, we hit every Starbucks in northeast Ohio and western PA. Although we live states apart now, we still manage to have coffee dates a couple times a year, even if they are only on the phone. So, while I was talking to her, I had a cup of coffee. Yes, I cheated on the fast. I put cream in it too. I’m not feeling horrible about it though as my little perfectionist self would have in the past because you know what? I have been a lot nicer since then. I’m not sure if it was the delicious caffeinated delight or just laughing and chatting with a dear friend, but my soul got some much-needed nourishing.

3. I did better today with my Thank You note. It’s the coffee. I am admittedly smarter when I drink coffee.

Last year, “cheating” on the fast would have filled me with guilt and shame. This year, I realize: There’s no shame in knowing and admitting that I chose to drink a cup of coffee. I didn’t smoke a cigarette or use any illegal drugs. It’s coffee. And God still loves me. And it was soooooo good. I’m not sure if I’ll drink it tomorrow or not. School’s already been cancelled so I might. I’ll be a way better social director if I do; That. Is. For. Sure.

Oh, I forgot to mention: I gained 2.5 pounds. Isn’t that awesome? Not even sure how that happens? I stayed away from nuts today. Stupid. Freaking. Scale.

Despite some shortcomings, it was a pretty good day. I made spaghetti squash with peanut sauce that was absolutely phenomenal–I don’t know how I could be gaining weight :). How are you guys doing? I have talked to several friends who are doing way better than I am. Good for you, you bunch of overachieving show-offs 😉 I still love you. And thankfully, I’ve also heard from some people who, like me, are struggling. I’m praying for you, my sisters. And by the way, I’m super grateful for all of you who are with me on this fast, cheering from the sidelines, and even those of you who are reading this simply to fuel your loathing. Keep on keeping on, my lovelies!

xoxo

21 days of water, twigs, berries and thanks

Last year, along with our church family, we participated in the Daniel Fast. I wrote some about it here, here, and even a little bit here. This year, we are fasting again, but I feel better prepared and ready for the challenge. In addition to abstaining from caffeine, alcohol, bread and more, I’ve decided to add in a gratitude element.

Every morning, I spend my first few moments of consciousness thanking God for all He has given me…an amazing husband with whom I get to raise three healthy, beautiful, brilliant children…my own health…and every opportunity to use the unique gifts He placed within me to spread a little love and compassion.

Recently Rob Bell appeared on Super Soul Sunday–have you watched? It’s an awesome show where Oprah talks to inspirational people and has completely replaced my Real Housewives addiction–and spoke about a 21-day gratitude challenge which includes the following daily tasks:

1. Spend 2 minutes counting blessings
2. Write out one meaningful experience
3. Send a thank you note to one person

This seemed to complement a spiritually enriching food fast, and since I have this perfect place to keep me accountable, I thought I would drop out of some of my traditional social media scrolling for the 21 days and just post here.

If you are interested in joining me, please share your experiences or links to your own posts in the comments. And if you want to reach me in the meantime, you can email me at maryswanbell@gmail.com.

Love and prayers for a healthy and happy start to 2015!

xoxo

Losing my mind in 4,3,2,1…

I rarely take things for granted. Kindness, goodness, blessings, and the people attached to those sentiments overwhelm me with gratitude. You know that picture circulating on social media, “What if you woke up tomorrow with only what you thanked God for last night”? I’d be solid. I thank Him constantly for the wonderful miracles in my life.

As you’ve probably guessed, that intro is leading up to what I do take for granted. Well, it’s not a what. It’s a who. Ugh…I hate admitting this, but I take my husband for granted sometimes.

Usually when I realize I am doing or have done so, I apologize immediately, write him long, appreciative letters, and make him feel extra loved. And honestly, he’s stereotypically guyish and not super in touch with his emotions, so he doesn’t sitting around whining that he’s not appreciated.

And, he asks for very little. Mostly. Last week, he started a new job and text me 37 million times as I’m the keeper of all important personal information–even his. But as far as emotional support, the scale is definitely shifted in my favor.

I’m a basket case 25-95% of the time depending on what’s going on in our life. A messy house, squabbling kids, writer’s block, or any variety of issues might send me spiraling into a panic. He talks me off proverbial ledges. Unless the ledges are work related, then my boss/friend talks me down–she is my work husband. Also, occasionally, he puts me on the ledge, and for those instances I am fortunate to have the most amazing girlfriends who pull me back in. I don’t spend as much of my life on the edge of sanity as this implies, but there are moments…or weeks.

This is of one of those weeks. I’m very excited for our daughter who will be leaving for an adventure in Brazil on Friday. I’m also a little nervous that our daughter will be leaving for an adventure in Brazil on Friday because I won’t be able to talk to her for two weeks. I have immense faith and am beyond thrilled that she will have this amazing experience, but I’m also her mama. To outsiders, a beautiful, accomplished, bright and eager 20-year-old will be boarding a plane with her professor and classmates, but in my eyes, that person is a tiny blonde baby who was sleeping on my shoulder with my hair twisted around her finger…just a minute ago.

Consequently, I’m a little anxious and when I’m anxious, my person is always next to me, holding my hand, rubbing his thumb along my thumb, twirling my hair, patting my back, and catching me (figuratively and literally on occasion). When we put this same child on the bus to kindergarten 15 years ago, he stood behind me waving and whispering into my hair, “Don’t cry, baby,” until this bus was down the road and our baby girl was out of sight and then caught me up in his arms laughing, “Okay, you can cry now.”

When I put her on this plane, he will be in another state, so I can’t fall apart. He’ll listen to me cry the whole way home, but it won’t be the same as depositing mascara all over the front of his shirt.

So, I’m anxious, and I would appreciate if you guys could (as my dear friend said one time,) “say a prayer or light a candle or do whatever it is you do” for us on Friday as my heart is scattered all over the world.

I’ll Do Better Next Time.

We got a hot tub a few weeks ago. It is perhaps my most favorite thing we have ever owned. Mostly because one of my most favorite things to do is nothing, as evidenced by my repeated pleas, “Can we just sit and BE?” My babies are antsy, though, so that is usually met with, “That’s BORING! Can’t we do something fun?”

There is not much you actually can do in a hot tub. Granted the kids manage to kick each other, splash, steal seats, turn off all the jets, make amazing light shows, play charades (the only mom-approved hot tub game), turn water bottles into guns and projectiles, and so forth. Occasionally, though, they sit and look at the stars or try to catch snowflakes on their tongues. Occasionally, they are able just to sit and be.

I treasure those rare moments.

When we were young and naive and had Chloe, every experience was new and fun. Parenthood was like being a kid in a candy store. Again with Peyton, even though we were older and more experienced, trucks and dirt and boy stuff was delightful in a whole new way. Now, I’ve mentioned a million times that Lily was a surprise baby. And despite my love for babies, I planned to love them from afar.

A funny thing happened though. Chloe grew up and moved away and taught me how fleeting childhood is. I am so grateful to have another little one. A couple more years of school parties, tooth fairies and Christmas magic. Chloe taught me how to be a mom. She was my guinea pig. I did so many things wrong and made so many mistakes, but she didn’t know because I was her only mom. One time I read somewhere that if you just love them enough…if you just love them enough it makes up for those mistakes. I think that’s true because she’s all grown up and she’s my best friend.

Course it could be that she’s super-forgiving, having secret intensive therapy, or writing a Mommie Dearest kind of tell-all. That’s cool too.

Anyway, I still make too many mistakes, but I believe that Peyton and Lily are blessed for the mistakes I made with Chloe. I believe all my kids are blessed for the mistakes my parents made. I believe that mistakes aren’t for making you feel guilty and inferior but for helping you learn. I believe in owning your mistakes–not just saying you’re sorry but meaning it and doing better.

It’s interesting when I consider how God answers my prayers. If I pray for patience, He gives me strife so I can learn…what? Patience. If I pray for strength, He guides me through difficult times and reminds me of the source of strength. When I pray for forgiveness, God shows me so many opportunities to give it.

As long as we are on this planet, we will make mistakes. People we love will make mistakes. Each time we have choices. Guilt or grace. Forgiveness or resentment. During this month of gratitude, I’m grateful for millions of mistakes and the opportunities they bring to do better.