The Evolving Homemaker

Yesterday I attempted to begin a cleanse.  Yet again.  The first time I ever tried the Crazy, Sexy, Diet 21 day adventure cleanse I lasted one, count em’, one day.  The next time?  Two days.  In December, SEVEN days.

Yesterday?

I had coffee at 5:30 PM.

Here is the thing, and for once I could really feel it yesterday, I am an emotional eater.  I know we have talked about this before, but it bears repeating because it is something I deal with on a daily basis.  It is like an alcoholic who can no longer be around booze, unfortunately we have to eat to survive.  Food will always be there, always around, always the temptress dressed in sugar.

And trying to cleanse while also feeding small children who don’t have to cleanse their grilled cheese sandwiches is a disaster. You are constantly making two meals, for every meal, everyday.  And I wondered why I was still working on school with the kids at 5 PM last night.

The kicker is when things start to get hard emotionally.  As soon as I begin to get frustrated with my kids, excessive whining yesterday morning, and interrupting when I was on the phone with my Mommy, and crying, and not paying attention during school, and dilly dallying, and frustration over the state of the house…I want to grab a cookie. Go get a coffee.  Have chocolate.  Eat some crunchy chips.

Anything to mask the feeling that I am really having.

By 5 PM yesterday I was c.RAZY and as I headed to the grocery store I realized, that there is some serious work that needs to be done dealing with those feelings probably before I go crazy and drop all of my vices at once.  The reality is I don’t drink, I don’t smoke…anything, I don’t eat meat, I eat mostly organic food, I don’t drink soda ever, I love my juicer, so I am seemingly basically pretty healthy.

I just eat sugar…when I am sad, frustrated, tired, lonely, happy, overwhelmed, anxious, excited, or celebrating.  Which really, one or more of these emotions come every.single.day.

What is a girl to do?I made a list.  I am a list-er.  I like me a list.  It helps clarify what needs to be done, where I want to be going, what I need to do to get there.  For my journey to overall wellness, my list looks like this:

1. daily meditation
2. vitamins everyday
3. exercise 6x week (Sunday’s off)
4. juice daily
5. brush 2x floss 1x daily (Some days I get to dinner and wonder if I even brushed)
6. wash face in evening, sunscreen lotion in AM
7. neti pot daily (yes, it feels weird)
8. eat mostly vegan
9. lose the white sugar
10. increase flexibility
11. yoga
12. body work (massage, reiki, etc.)
13. daily spiritual reading
14. 70 oz. of water/day
15. mindful eating (tasting the food as you eat)
16. dropping acid inducing coffee (for the thousandth time or keep it and do everything else well)
17. add daily gratitude
18. live whimsy
19. time in nature as often as possible
20. weights
21. add prayer
22. walk dogs WAY more often
23. random acts of kindness
24. dress to feel good
25. read 1 of the 5 Mindfulness Trainings in the morning
26. more sex (I am not an addict, we’re just busy)
27. dry brush before showering
28. off my anxiety medication

To get to number 28 I need to incorporate most of the others.  Some things like random acts of kindness don’t seem like they help with wellness off the bat, but I think spreading joy to others makes us more joyful.

To get started I am going to type these up on a Word file and use it as a checklist at the end of everyday.  That way instead of doing everything at once, I can pick some today and slowly add the others.  By looking at the list every night, it will remind me of what I am trying to change, and allow me to be cognizant of where I still need to work on things. I wrote it in my journal, but everyone knows how once that page is turned it is all but forgotten.

Yup, I will be busy, and I will keep you updated.  But a well Mommy makes for a well family.  It is true.  You are what you eat, sleep, read, think about, and spread.  And those around you are too, because they are in your space.  For better or for worse.

Ugh.  Rough day.  I am writing this post at 11:30 on Wednesday night because I have to switch up my schedule somehow.  I have to get more organized.  I have to do something other than what I am doing now.

What I am doing currently is evidently not working.

A few months ago I quit blogging.  After a few weeks I was bored.

I tried for awhile to bust ass to keep the house clean…er.  Then I gave up cause, what the hell?  It NEVER stayed that way.  EVER.

I try to stay present with my kids, but there is so much always that needs to be done.  Always.  Between trying to create a successful blog, cause if one is not trying to be successful to some degree than why is one here, trying to home school creatively, trying to just. keep. up.  Presence is not happening.

I try to be a good friend and say, “Yes” while also remembering to say, “No” sometimes too.  When saying “Yes” usually wins out cause I don’t want to be an ass. And I want friends.  I love my friends.  They are awesome.

I try to exercise and honor myself enough to care what I am putting in and on my body.  But I am just tired.  There is no time to fit it in too.

And then people post to Facebook about author signings to books like, “Cinderella Ate My Daughter” and now I have to be paranoid that letting my precious babe like princesses is somehow going to ruin her making me a totally irresponsible, not crunchy enough, crunchy Mom.

I feel incredibly blessed so often.  But today it was one thing after another.  One failure after another.  I was a shitty Mom, a shitty housewife, a shitty teacher, a shitty wife, a shitty exerciser, a shitty eater, a shitty customer, just plain shitty.  I could get on top of nothing.  At this point, I usually would play this tape in my head for the next few days, making myself feel a whole lot worse.

Not this time.

This time I am going to adjust where I can.  And then I am going to let the rest go.

I cannot make everyone happy.  I cannot even make my own self happy all the time.  I will allow myself to feel bad, sleep on it, and tomorrow I will awake with a renewed sense that everyday is an opportunity.  There is no room for perfection.   I will know I love my kids more than anything else in this world, and that will have to carry them through the days when we don’t get along that great.  I will understand that I really do try my almost best.  And that never won me any gold stars in the past, and it probably isn’t now, so I can cut myself a break already.  I will remember that learning to love myself is a journey, not a moment.

And then I will enjoy my birthday present to myself this year, which I happen to be getting tomorrow.

Come back on Friday to find out what it is…and in the mean time, cut yourself a break.  You are worth it.  I am gonna. And right at this moment, I am gonna do this too, make a list for yourself of 10 things that you are fantastic at.  Then savor them.  And feel the goodness that comes from appreciating what you really are.

Cause you are amazing. There is only one you.  And you have a million gifts to share with us.

If you remember my guest post over at Get Born on New Year’s Eve, you’ll recall that there were so many things about this year that had me yearning to delve deeply into my own life to extract that which would allow me to live fully, with zest, with fervor, with whimsy.  2012 and I were going to go head to head over the best me, and I was going to win.

This from a woman who has spent most of her adult life with anxiety.  Self doubt is the favorite form of self loathing.  It comes in many forms over many days.  I often questioned whether I was loved, cared about, valuable, important, worth it, putting on too much weight, was I forever too chatty in group gatherings or not chatty enough, I could wake up with headaches wondering if I offended anyone, I could lay down to sleep with worried mind that I didn’t get enough done in a day to make myself happy, my children happy, and my husband happy.  Am I living a full, FUN life?  Could I be approaching everyday with more awareness, more creativity, more engagement?  THIS life is enough, but what if I could live it with with more zest, more playfulness, more joy?  I eat to fill the void that every one of those questions left behind…a truth I no longer want to live with.

Where on earth was I going to begin finding this spiced up version of myself I like to hide?  Oh, yes, I was going to begin finding her playing along with Tiffani over at freeplaylife.  This is a gal whose adventures I have followed on Facebook for a couple of years all the while yearning to understand how I could get a little more of her spunk into my frump.

She is doing a 52 week challenge this year to create a better you, so to speak.  A few weeks ago her challenge was to put a picture of ones ASS onto Facebook, instagram, or some other form of expression where you were willing to show that fantASStic, fabulASS, bombASStic, part of yourself that most of us spend our days trying desperately to hide.

What did I think when I first read her challenge? Yeah, right.  There is no way on God’s green beautiful earth I was going to put a picture of my boot-ay out there for all the world to see.  Except then I starting thinking that maybe I could.  That maybe, it wasn’t that big of a deal.  And that maybe the journey to learning to love myself would be full of discomfort, but a little bit of excitement too.  And what if I could be artsy about it, and reflect a part of myself?

And then last week at my women’s circle gathering we talked about death. A lot.  Near death.  And the looming  journey of one very brave young lady, and the possibility of many young ladies I know.  There is no one here to stop time for us to finally figure out that there is nothing to be afraid of inside of our own divine selves.

So damn it, I did it.

And yesterday I posted it to Facebook.  Not without any fear mind you.  I actually started enjoying my homemade photo shoot, but when it was time to press the ‘share’ button I was sweating like a stuck pig on a 110 degree day in Texas.  At the last minute I thought against it.  And then shared my ass anyway.

Cause here is the kicker, I am tired of caring about what people think, I am tired of worrying if I said the right thing, did the right thing, am the right thing.  I am tired of hiding who I want to be behind fear and the stories I tell myself of why I am not good enough.  And lord knows I am tired of eating my way through all of my self depreciating bullshit lies.

I am amazing.  And so is my ass.  And so is yours.  And so are you.

Don’t ever forget it.  Or doubt it.  Or let anyone else tell you otherwise.

If you want to play along this year, join the freeplaylife Facebook page or rss feed to her blog.

I leave you today with one of her other assignments, to find your super hero song for the year.  My year?  Self love.  My super hero song? Nothing but Michael, press play, and then yes, you can totally get up and shake your ass along.

I typed up a schedule for the new school year.  It is color coded and everything.  Light green for things Mommy has to do, light pink for the classes my little gal takes, light blue for my husbands commitments, blue for my little boys, black for just the general to-do’s, bright pink for school, green for cello…you get the idea.

It is filled.  The only thing left off the schedule was the poor dogs and walks.  Unless my husband is going to do it, they will be relegated to the weekend probably, or in the dark; AM or PM.

While it was helpful to do the schedule and see exactly how hard it is to fit everything in, allowing me some realization that there is no way to do it all.  Just no way.  This morning it also gave me a great deal of anxiety.

My son woke up at 6 with screaming nightmares.  He wanted to come sleep in the bed and I said alright in my early morning haze.  Except what I didn’t know was that it was 6 at the time and my alarm was going to go off at 6:30 to start my ‘new’ and ‘improved’ life with said schedule.  He didn’t go back to sleep until like 6:20.  I hit the alarm button, with the glum feeling that I was not going to be successful in my first scheduling day.

From the moment I hit the alarm button on, I started playing in my head all the things that were on the list that I probably wasn’t going to get to today seeing as how I had a little boy in my bed that needed to go back to sleep and my new morning rituals were probably not going to be possible in the situation.  I started thinking about the day, all of the stuff that had to get done, how I was going to get my son to the volunteer fair he needed to go to and me to a town an hour away at virtually the same time that I needed to go to.  I worried if I was going to have time to get on the treadmill now as my health has been put to the bottom of the list lately, my meditation was totally out, and can’t really be moved to another time, what we were going to do for our first day of school to ease into the fall, I wondered if I would have time to blog, time to get to the grocery store to get the family something to eat for dinner before I left for my evening of co-working, whether I would get time to clean at all today, and finally as I was feeling so anxious by now I thought about whether I would ever be able to go off the tiny bit of anxiety medication I take because I evidently am still anxious.

And I really want to…

This all leads me to wonder if I am being mindful about my own expectations of myself.  Am I letting others expectations of me cloud my perspective?  I am trying to be some sort of crazy super Mom when I thought I had let those pressures go?  Am I remembering what is important while filling our lives with things to-do?  Like…not having things to do?  Am I able to bring myself back to the present moment with mindfulness and not think about the things farther down on the schedule while I am in the midst of working on a different thing?

Ahhhh, mindfulness about our own expectations of ourselves.  This is maybe something we don’t think about that often, but maybe we should.  After all, we are our own worst critics right?  When we have expectations of ourselves and we don’t meet them, there is but one in our heads that will remind us over and over how we failed.  And I for one fall into the trap of beating myself up when I don’t meet others expectations as well.

I am not giving up on my schedule.  I am just going to be aware of it.  Aware of how it makes me feel.  I am just practicing this week to see if we can even stick to it, it is hopeless, or it will be great and helpful.  But I am also going to be more mindful about my own expectations of myself.  Are they achievable without getting only 4 hours of sleep a night?  Am I just being too lazy and not working fast enough?  What?

And then I am going to be gentle with myself, with whatever information I find out…

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Getting back into the rhythm of life has been a bit more difficult then I imagined.  I feel out of place everywhere.  I have found too that I have a hard time finding direction in my days.  I stand there not knowing what to do next, even though there is so much to do to get ready for our home school days, store from the garden, cook from the garden, harvesting and managing, organizing our chaos of a house, getting the kids to everything they need to get too, getting rid of everything that now feels so unnecessary, and dealing with the normal daily tasks of birthday parties, play dates, and the like.

It is so weird.

One of the big things I discovered on retreat, was that I actually like myself in silence better.  Those who know me personally will find that entertaining seeing as how I talk a lot.  But I talk a lot most of the time because I am nervous.  It is a mechanism my brain has found to deal with anxiety in situations that I otherwise might avoid.

Most of the time after parties, play times, gatherings, situations in which I don’t know people well, or at all, shoot, even sometimes after doing my normal errands I spend some time in great angst over whether I talked too much, shared too much, was too ‘know it all-ish’, didn’t talk enough so as to seem snobbish, said the wrong thing, offended anyone, wasn’t p.c. in one way or another, or otherwise had done anything with my mouth that may have caused people to wonder why they are friends with me.

Seriously.

I know it is a game of the ego.  I have been working hard the last few years making myself follow through with things I otherwise would have avoided like the plague.  I still get nervous sometimes and I can’t shut up.  I still say things I wish I could take back the moment they escape from my lips.  I still wish I didn’t have anxiety to begin with.

But, the gift of noble silence for most of my waking hours for five days?  In a situation which normally would cause me to joke profusely, or apologize profusely, or to talk profusely uncontrolled? I didn’t have to talk.  At all.  And when I did talk, I found that the same habits would come forth.  ‘Look at me!  I know a lot!’ or ‘Look at me!  I am funny!’ or ‘Listen to me!  Maybe you won’t notice how terribly nervous and hard it is for me to just be myself with you’.

Now, at home, in my normal routine, I find I don’t want to talk.  It is just easier.  Less exhausting. But I suppose that is the practice, not so much in the not talking, but becoming more aware of what you are saying when you are talking.  This awareness in turn inviting loving and mindful speech instead of nervous ramblings.

So I am trying.  Trying to regain my footing in my life, while weaving in the changes that a five day retreat with such a peaceful tone and wise beings would create.  I have already shown up to one place that now completely feels foreign to me, as if I no longer belong there.  I want to clean out the clutter in my home, as I do feel as if it is a reflection of how I feel in my mind, which isn’t so cluttered any more.  I need space to simplify our schedules and time to just ‘be’, time to breathe, time to allow the children to just find themselves on their own journey life will lay before them.

Change is unavoidable, it already happened.  How to re-enter after retreat?  Well, I am not sure I have that one figured out yet…or if there is even anything to figure out.

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I am full of anxiety this morning.  Truth be told.  I really want to burst into tears right now.  I am on the second day of my cleanse, which makes it extra hard at the moment.  I usually deal with all kinds of uncomfortable feelings by going to Starbucks and/or having some sugar laden delicacy.

Not today. So I have to deal.

My son is getting his tonsillectomy tomorrow, and of course I am sitting here wondering if we HAVE to do it.  If he really does need it. You know, the normal second guessing stage before a child undergoes even such a ‘normal’ procedure.   Also tomorrow, my step brother is receiving his stem cell transplant which will hopefully breathe new life into his body and kick this leukemia thing out of it for good.  Please keep him and his family in your thoughts if you are so inclined.

So today instead of coming up with some grand plan of blog posts, I am going to share my vision board that I put together this past Sunday.  It sounds so cheesy, ‘vision board’, but it really has given me something to focus on, those things that I really want.  So often in the chaos of days that motherhood provides I get so focused on the mundane that I lose sight of the big picture, my goals, my hopes, my dreams.  All of which I don’t want to leave somewhere off in the distance, forever unattainable, left as only dreams,  but I want to make them happen.   This is my way to stay focused, and out of the bookstore spending money, to bring these little seed to fruit.

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There you have it, my dreams in a picture.  From the Tibetan Mastiff and Old English Sheepdog, to the Arabian horse, the Cliff’s of Moher and Africa, to writing a book and practicing yoga, to building community and a strong marriage.  Today is a day I need to remember the big picture, to be reminded of how fantastic life can be, even in the midst of the bumpy road.

*I am forever being humbled by the way people show up in my world.  I finished this post and went to catch up on my favorite blogs, what I found at Becoming Super Mommy blew me away.  Check it out HERE. WOW.*

Mindfulness and parenting.  Wow, it can be tough to be mindful enough to stay present with your children, but also mindful enough to be aware of the mantras you are saying in your own head.

Last week was especially hard for me and the kids.  I get way crazy when my children are hurt, might be hurt, or sick.  Anxiety I can handle.  Anxiety around my children, their health, and their safety?  That is when I head off my rocker.  I get crazy.  I get panicky.  My stress levels get out of control until my babes are safe and sound and/or healthy again.

It is the truth.  Ask any of my friends.  They have seem me wig out as my children sit playing by a raging river. Or yell at my people more than they deserve if they run away in the grocery store because I can’t see them with my own eyes to make sure they are not being stolen.

My heart never loved something so.  Or two somethings so.  I am learning to balance, but it is my nature, the nature of a Mama grizzly, and don’t get in between me and the safety of my cubs.

Needless to say the first few weeks of summer, with a concussion, an ear infection, speech and reading evaluations, and the raging river, my nervous system was on high alert.  I was cranky and tired and worn out too, which doesn’t pair very well with worry.

Not like chocolate and orange.

The kids and I had a few fights.  We didn’t get along.  We had ice cream.  Then argued again.  My boy was cranky since he could partake in not a single activity, and taking it out on me.  And they were hating every single thing I made them to eat.  I was feeling like a pretty shitty Mom by the end of the week.

And the tapes that play in my head at those times?  “God, they deserve better than me.”  “Was I crazy and completely wrong to choose motherhood?”  “I totally suck at this.”  “Man, I wish I was better.” “Why don’t I do better?”

This banter only makes me do worse in reality. You do what you think right? So during mediation last week I am thinking, “What should me my mantra today? Om? Peace? Cause lordy knows I need a little peace…hmmm…I am a good Mom.  That should be my mantra.”

And so it was.  For that meditation session.  And for the following week into today.  I AM A GOOD MOM.  If I was being mindful about my mothering mantras I would have realized long ago, so I think, so I am.  I AM A GOOD MOM.  I AM A GOOD MOM.  I AM A GOOD MOM.  And I was a better Mom.  I engaged more, I was more present, I did fun activities with them, we laughed, we joked, we had more ice cream.

I am a good Mom.  Period.  And so are you.  Be mindful this week of that which you are telling yourself, that which only you hear, it just might change everything.

I am not going to lie today…I am givin’ it to you straight…

I am completely overwhelmed at the moment.  I have SO stinkin’ much to do and not nearly enough time to do it in.  I just got done writing a list of things that needs to get done today, and a list of things that needs to get done over the next few days.

And Oh. My. God.  I thought the list would be helpful, a way to organize my thoughts as I see that it really isn’t that much to do, that if I break it up over the next few days it can all get done.  Except the list for today, is too long for the hours that are actually available within this day.

Seriously, as I write this my children just came running into my closet/office to tell me there is dog puke in one of the dogs kennels and all over the carpet.  THERE IS NO ROOM ON MY LIST FOR DOG VOMIT!

I awoke too this morning at 12:45 AM with a sudden jolt.  I am not sure why, but it was at that moment that my mind and body decided to fully comprehend that tomorrow my dear friend, an epitome of strength, would be undergoing a double mastectomy.  The gravity and the reality came rushing into my awareness in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.

I think over the last few days my brain has been completely asleep.  My husband was away for five days, riding his new motorcycle across the country by himself over 2,000 miles.  An anxiety prone Mama like myself had to detach.  Instead of becoming a nervous wreck I separated myself from it.  I took the attitude that, “Oh yeah, he is doing this thing, riding his motorcycle across the country.” I was surely nonchalant.  But it was just a safety stance.  I didn’t realize this until he got home and it felt like a weight had been lifted and I could go ahead and breathe and get on with life.

After he was safe and sound, I suppose my brain and my body were finally in a place again that they could take in the reality of what was happening closer to home.  That which I wish I could make go away.  That which blew into my awareness like a tornado and has moved at top notch speed since.  Cancer is like that.  When it swoops in, it takes no prisoners, and everyone must move and make decisions and get on with taking action.

There is no time for absorption.  Cancer doesn’t offer up time as an ally.

Today I am overwhelmed.  I tried to smudge with sage, I tried to breathe, so then I sit to write.  It is how I work  out my shit the best.  Life is a fucking roller coaster, there is just no way around that.  And in reality, even with a full, carefully crafted list of to-do’s, there is really nothing I can do except get on and ride.

It is funny this morning, I thought I didn’t really have much to say today, maybe I would skip a post.  I checked on some of my favorite blogs and Farmama had a post about time.   She gets a lot of things I am completely jealous of done.  A few days ago she was spinning her own yarn from her own sheep.

I am still trying to finish a sewing pattern I started last Thursday.  Of course I discovered after I cut it out, that I needed a button foot on my sewing machine, which I don’t have, at least I don’t think I have…no laughing people.  I claim to be EVOLVING.

I have been noticing how I spend my time lately, and while reading the soon to be disclosed book this past weekend, I came across a passage that referred to the pile of books that might be on ones nightstand.  Still waiting to be read.  The anxiety that might cause.

Hello?  Do these people have a camera on my nightstand?

To alleviate the pressure to read everything, and everything that I checked out of the library recently too, I went through my stack yesterday and returned everything to the library I didn’t need to read right now.  I kept a few books on homeschooling I still need to peruse, one on needle felting even though I am not sure I will get to it by the due date, the one I am reading now, and one a friend suggested I read based on my son and his schooling. A couple other random ones stayed in the mix, but everything else went back.

All the kids books we weren’t using, all the books I would never find time to read without feeling a time crunch, all the ones I just wouldn’t get to, the ones I would peruse instead of actually read.  I felt lighter and less anxious right away.  It was freeing to make that choice.

Ok I would be lying if I didn’t also say I did BUY three books yesterday after I dropped the said ones off at the library.  I bought three Thich Nhat Hanh books.  I like to underline important books to me and go back, can’t do that with library books.  I really wanted to begin my mindful journey long before the retreat in August.  I really also felt the need, personal necessity, to begin living more peacefully and mindfully. To do that, I need serious constant reminders.

These are the only three books I have purchased since my decision not to buy any in a year that were not on a gift card.  It was a mindful purchase that I really thought through and just didn’t go buy on a whim.  For me, these are readings I would like to have and refer to over and over.  And will probably NEED to refer to them over and over, I have a thick skull.

So there.  Time can be made in so many places.  It is up to us to decide how and where we spend it!

Spill it: What do you spend a lot of time doing that you could skip to get to other things you have only dreamed about getting to?  Do you ever consciously choose to stop doing one thing so you can do something else instead?

A couple of weeks ago, I got a tip from a friend on Facebook that there were owl pellets to be found at a local park.  As a homeschool Mom, I got all excited about the cool everyday opportunities to educate our children.  I then proceeded to the park to collect the specimens.

We found them exactly where she said we would, and then spent some time reading a book about fairy houses and collecting a bunch of stuff to make a fairy house of our own in the backyard.  We headed home to dissect our gross, yet fascinating, treasure.

All fun and good right?

Except, did you notice the kids didn’t have any gloves on or anything?  They began to use their hands directly due to the fact that it was easier than the tweezers.  I did too.

When we were finished and the photo op complete, I came inside to check email and Facebook, otherwise known as ‘waste precious life moments with a ridiculously bad habit’.

I started to wonder about us using our bare hands to feel our way through owl vomit.  And so began the 24 hours of utter fear and panic.  Of course I Googled.  That is what I do when I have any sort of question.  I Google.  And of course what did I find?

Endless articles about how owl pellets carry Salmonella and Campylobacter an more lovely things like that.  You know, all kinds of things that could make me and my babies very sick. Articles about school kids getting sick after the same experiment we had just completed.

Oh God.  Oh God. Oh God.  What did I do?

(I’ll have you know I am getting many of the same feelings in this moment as I write about it, that is what anxiety can do for you)

So, I did what any crazy, high anxiety, worry wort about her children’s safety, of a Mom would do.  I bathed the children, washing their entire bodies with soap and even finished the bath with a nice hand dousing in All-Terrain anti-bacterial hand gel.  I went out to the back porch and threw EVERYTHING in the trash, including all of the fairy house things we had gotten at the park after we had collected our vomit, and the bag they were in.

I showered too and doused multiple times in the anti-bacterial hand goo.  Then told my husband to go get dinner out, so I wasn’t making food with said hands, and added that while he was out he should stop at the store and pick up some Clorox anti-bacterial wipes, cause lord knows we don’t have that kind of stuff in our house.

He returned with dinner and as everyone else ate, I backtracked through the house with wipes in hand.  I wiped down door handles, faucet handles, doors and door knobs, tables and chairs, light switches, and the table we did the grand experiment with our lives on.  I got crazy.  And then I wiped the kids hands with more hand slime.  And mine too.  I even painstakingly wiped every page of the fairy house book we had read.

I couldn’t sleep that night.  I kept thinking to myself over and over how I wanted to be the cool homeschooling Mom who took her kids and did awesome things with them but didn’t take the time to research first.  My ego was too big.  I would never forgive myself if anything happened to my babies due to my insatiable need for approval.

At 3 AM I climbed out of bed to go watch TV.  I knew that if I didn’t distract myself I it was going to be a very long day.  A dear friend popped up on Facebook, when I attempted to waste more life energy there, and reminded me about perspective.  After all, she was up at 3 AM for her own reasons too.

We never got sick.  But I may just pass over the next owl pellet I have the opportunity to see, unless we are protected with gloves, masks, and/or bubble suits.

So that is my ode to science.  And ego.  And the need for dear friends.

Spill it: Have you ever done anything to or with your kids, or let your kids do, that you were just sick over later?

Once a month I go to a woman’s house who lives in my hood that leads all those there through Spirit Journeys.  It is somewhat like meditation, except you call in animal guides and ask them for help or clarity understanding some aspect of your life you are questioning.

This week left a strong message deep within me, and it had nothing to do with my actual journey.

At the end of the evening we were talking about unhealthy behaviors and addictions, or how community dis-ease manifests in things such as depression, addiction, hoarding, etc.

Our faithful leader, mentioned that native peoples all over the world believe that treatment for people with any sort of these issues begins with community.  She started to mention things such as depression and then looked right at me and probably really wanted to say anxiety, but since I had set my intention on grounding my anxiety for my journey, she proceeded to say, “and other things” but didn’t take her gaze away until I began to chuckle uncomfortably.

‘And other things.’

I started to think about how much I have want a strong sense of community since I can remember, but my anxiety gets in the way of it!  I get terribly nervous in new situations with new people.  At most events with more than five people, I hope to blend into the wall as much as possible.  I don’t often call my friends to get together, because I continually am surprised that they actually DO want to hang out with ME when THEY call.  After most hang outs or play dates, I just hope that I haven’t said anything offensive or rude.  I second guess everything, and am riddled with past incidences that haunt me about my many inadequacies as a friend in the past.

Funny thing, when I started this blog I really wanted to have a group of ladies that got together to do some of these activities that I was wanting to learn and build sense of community in my own little urban way.  It was really hard to get dates that worked for everyone, there seemed to always be a conflict.  So I started the blog instead, to keep my focus on those things I wanted to try; a simple life, knitting, canning, gardening, etc. Yet what I have been hearing recently is that lots of people are feeling the same need for some strong community ties!

A sense of community.

I left the circle with the commitment to myself to work on community in my life.  To building stronger relationships that I can initiate and help continue, instead of using my fear as a way to wait for others to make the investment first.  Maybe I will start that group again of those that may be interested in cultivating a simpler life, crafting, cooking, and such.  I will certainly try and call my friends and plan time together.  I will probably join a Divine Feminine group at church that meets twice a month.

So many opportunities to create community that I have been too afraid to attempt because of my anxiety and shyness.  But maybe the native cultures are on to something, that community can make all the difference for so many of us, that often we feel like we are out there in this enormous world all by ourselves.  That no one understands, that everyone else has it so together and we are the only lonely ones stuck in a catch-22 between wanting community and terror at all things unfamiliar.

Community.  Yes.  Community.

That will be my mantra for the next month.

Spill it: Do you feel like you have a strong support community around you?  Do you live near family and they are mostly your community?  Or do you live far away from family and have successfully cultivated a sense of community on your own?

Yes, I am well aware that it is Tuesday 9-28, not Monday any longer.  My Mom Swiss cheese brain is pretty bad sometimes, but not THAT bad!  I missed yesterday, due to extenuating circumstances, but thought it was pretty important to explain and pass on how a few mindful moments really changed my attitude about it.

My son has been attending a one day a week homeschool enrichment program.  Needless to say, it hasn’t been an easy transition for him.  The first week, he was in tears and hugging my legs every time I tried to leave.  Unfortunately I had my daughter with me and two dogs at home who hadn’t eaten breakfast or peed yet that morning.  By lunchtime, I had to just leave and take him with me.

Last week, I went with him, with the full intention of staying the whole day; my daughter stayed home with Daddy.  Unfortunately I didn’t pack any food for me so I was exhausted and cranky toward the end.  Yesterday, I went with the hopes of him getting to the point in which he didn’t need me there and letting me go run some errands that I was feeling great anxiety about getting done.

When am I going to ever learn that it is fine for me to have expectations, as long as I keep the knowledge close at hand that at any moment, there is a good chance my expectations will need to be let go of?

I experienced a constant ebb and flow of emotions yesterday.  First frustration.  Then sheer sadness for him, I know all too well how he feels and what his fears might keep him from doing in life.  Then frustration again.  Then anger.  Then confusion as to how to help him.  Of course, helplessness wrapped herself around me like a fog as well.

Finally, after I came to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going anywhere evidently and somehow I had to come up with a way to let go of the myriad of things on my to-do list for the moment.  As a last ditch effort, I grabbed a book at the bottom of my bag I had thrown in at the last minute by Louise Hay called You Can Heal Your Life.

From the book, “What is important in this moment is what you are choosing to think and believe and say right now.”  Later, “We often add to that, “And I don’t do enough,” or “I don’t deserve.” Does this sound like you? Often saying or implying or feeling that you “are not good enough?” But for whom?  And according to whose standards?”

I began to find my breath again.

What did I believe and think right in that moment of anxiety and frustration with my son who needed me?

“I need to get things done.  A dress for the upcoming wedding…to clean our house cause it is annoyingly messy and has been the last couple weeks…to plant the raspberry bushes that are dying on my porch…to get and be with my daughter who was having to entertain herself at home while Daddy was working…to store or plan usage for the food that is coming out of our garden…to exercise…”

And for who?

Who’s expectations am I filling with all of those to-do’s that must all get done RIGHT NOW?

My husbands?

Mine?

Anyone who might actually find out that I am not perfect and can’t keep up with it all, all the time?

The bride and groom who might think I didn’t dress the way they wanted for their wedding?

My daughter who would most certainly be holding a grudge against me when I didn’t come home until 3:30?

In those few moments between reading those pages and trying not to fall asleep in the hallway, I changed my thoughts.  I let go of that to-do list.  I really wondered whose expectations I was trying to live up to.  I began to relax and actually entered into deep conversation with another Mom who is also in the same boat.  Then we were joined by two more Mom’s and we conversed about homeschooling, ideas, cool discoveries we were making, how to help each individual child, how each child produced their own unique hurdles.

I was there for my son when he needed me.

Not perfectly, on the way home I was upset and wondering whether my husband was going to be mad and how I could hurry up this adjustment process per what I assumed where going to be HIS expectations.

Except, when I got home, he wasn’t mad that I was gone all day again.  He was fine with it.  I had made up expectations I thought would be his.  Actually, after we chatted for a few moments, he said, “You have to read Janine’s email, it might help you.”

She quoted Viktor Frankl, a Nazi camp survivor, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms- to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way”.

She thought maybe I needed to hear that…

I’ll say.

Spill it: How do you keep your patience with your kids when they are going through a difficult adjustment you think should be easier for them?  Hmmm….or how do you keep your expectations in check so as to remain flexible in the moments of motherhood that test those expectations?

My, my, the headache has arrived.

I have been a decaf coffee drinker for like ten years now, but even decaf has caffeine and when that is what you are used to, you still get a boost from a decaf non-fat latte, or mocha, or caramel sauce latte.

I do at least.

I am officially on my third day without coffee at all.  And can I just say, next to ice cream, coffee is my favorite thing that goes into my mouth on a given day.  Seriously.

I LOVE my coffee.

As my anxiety increased, I new that coffee and sugar, my two favorite things, were on the no-no list for my blood sugar.  In fact, my rise in anxiety could be attributed to my rise in coffee and sugar intake SOLELY. It could be without either of them, my anxiety would be non-existent.

I know this.  I have known this since a battery of tests showed I have low blood sugar, and my favorite book on the subject, Low Blood Sugar, said that if one was to go back to their old eating habits all of the symptoms would return within three months.

Wahlah.

Old eating habits for eight months, not eating five meals a day with protein in each, eating all the sugar I want=jitters, dizziness, fatigue, nightmares, breathlessness, migraine, food cravings, fainting and blackouts, lack of libido, panic feelings, anxiety, forgetfulness, depression, irritability, thirst…the list goes on.  I am my own self saboteur; it was a long, hard journey to get to where I was and I threw it away for some birthday cake.

I just got finished reading Food Mood Solution by Jack Challem, and he said that sugar is an addiction for many people, and those people just can’t have ‘some’.  Some turns into everyday all day, and welcome to my current world.  I can tell you without a doubt, that when I was sugar free for 6 months I had never felt better in my life and didn’t believe I even had anxiety anymore, I actually took offense when people would mention it.

I felt good…so I took a few liberties…and few turned into a lot of liberties…and now I sit here on the third day of no coffee with a splitting headache and dizziness to boot.  By tomorrow or the next day I should be good.  Then it will be time to get off sugar.  REALLY painful for a few days, really dizzy, really cranky, really, really tired cause of course sugar is my pick-me-up, but the end result is worth it.

I just really like ice cream and coffee dang it.

Spill it: Have you ever had to quit something you really liked cause you knew you would feel better?  (For me smoking cigarettes…I still miss it after 15 years!) What helped you through it?

Probably not a politically correct way of titling a blog post, but it is my reality at the moment.

For the past two days I have been living on the edge of a life that I spent three or four months living amongst over a year ago.  A constant state of panic.

My body feels like it has been physically hit by a Mack truck.  My mind is spinning, in a kind of haze of course since I have taken a bit of my generic Xanax to get ahead of this thing.

My shrink, or ex-shrink, would have my head right now.  On a platter.  With roasted veggies and potatoes around it, if she new how I had been pushing myself the last month or so.  She would say I asked for it probably.  Or that I know better.  Or that I had ignored everything I had learned in the last year about myself.

I went too hard.  I acted as if I was normal.  I ate like shit.  I lived in the ice cream and cookie jar.  I slept like shit too.  I didn’t meditate or go to any church services.  I didn’t read boatloads of inspiring words.  I was immersed in loud, fast, constant noise, that was busy, busy, busy.

I took not a moment to myself unless it was on a treadmill.  I didn’t rest.  I didn’t eat high protein.  I didn’t spend time on spiritual endeavors.  I didn’t write.

And now I have to pay.

And hate that my life ever has to be like this.

And cry because it is.

It started on Friday morning when I went out for a run with my sisters Garmin.  I don’t really know how to pace myself yet.  I am a sucky treadmill runner who paces herself by machine.  I guess I ran too fast.  I did a 3 mile run 7 1/2 minutes faster than I normally do.  Which is still slow for most people, but I guess not for me.  I thought I might die or vomit a few times, but assumed it was because I wasn’t enough in shape yet, not because I was actually running too fast for me.  I am not smart enough to figure that out I suppose. And it was too humid, and friggin’ hot to boot.

I felt like crudolla afterward.  My heart was racing, my body was sweating in places like my hands, that don’t usually sweat.  I couldn’t breathe very well.  And I still have cotton mouth two days later.

Dehydrated?  Maybe.  Out to fast?  Definitely.

But then I got to spend the next two days bordering panic.  Taking Xanax plus my daily anxiety meds trying to give my body and brain a break.  I begin to panic, when I think I might have a panic attack.

Nice huh.

Am I aloud to cry? To yell and scream and kick things and be SO angry and resentful and cuss like a fucking sailor and  be pissed and cranky and just SO sad?  Because this is my life?  Because I don’t know if it will ever end?  Because who wants to live like this?  Because who wants to live a life not full of fun and interesting new experiences cause they might have a panic attack if they try something new?

Because I have to play it safe.  Because I need to plan ahead.  Because I need to have meds on hand just in case.  Because I need to eat healthy all the time.  I can’t take breaks.  I will need to remain in my comfort zone.  I will need to take it easy.  I will need to be diligent.

And people who don’t experience this ever, won’t understand.

And I will wonder, “Why me?”

And I will wish it was different.

And I get it.  There are lots of people around the world wondering everyday, “Why me?” about a gazillion different scenarios in their lives.

But today this is what I feel.

Today this is what I fear.

Today this sucks.

Spill it: Are there any things in your life you deal with on a daily basis that people around you don’t understand?  Is there anything you wish were different in your life right now?

…you make bath time lots of fun!

Except I didn’t have a rubber ducky.  Darn.

Yesterday I was told by my wise shrink, to ‘treat’ myself all night.  After the run on Sunday, I needed some emotional and physical pampering.  Time to breathe, relax, re-coop, and find my balance again; my nervous system screams at me when I am doing too much.  So, I am learning to take recovery seriously.

Her suggestion?

First, get the Venti decaf, non-fat, light ice, caramel sauce (not syrup) latte, I had been craving all day. And yes, I realize how ridiculously high maintenance my summer drink of choice is.  You don’t have to tell me.  And then, take a bath.

A bath?

I haven’t taken a bath since my son was born…6 years ago.  And what is even sadder about that?  We have the greatest tub for taking a bath in.  It is this over-sized monstrosity that seriously drains the entire water tank full of hot water to fill only 2/3 of the way.  Not the most environmental tub, but we bought the house and it was here, and we have never used it as a tub for anyone over 5.

Until last night.  And it was heavenly.  I stopped by our local natural grocers to get dinner and picked up a packet of Aura Cacia ‘Tranquility’ aromatherapy mineral bath.  I cleaned the tub, probably the real reason it has never been used by a grown up, gathered some yummy smelling beeswax candles, and filled the crater up.

And breathed. And rested.  And floated.

And proceeded to smell the skin on my arms all night, even in my sleep, cause they smelled so dang good.

Spill it: What do you do to refill your cup?  I am not very good at it, but realize the time has come to take it a lot more seriously…  Share your pampering ideas so the rest of us, who are learning to pamper, can follow your lead!

I am going to be more truthful than ever here today by saying that the past few weeks have sucked.

Soon after my ‘circle of life’ trip to Florida to watch my uncle’s ashes float away into the Gulf of Mexico, and my realization that any day that could be my Mom, a sister, or me, I returned home to the news that one of my nephews was going through a really difficult time.  I don’t think it is my place to share it, but know that I have been wracked by worry for both him and my sister for a few weeks.

My son’s school also wanted to inform us, with two weeks left in the year, that he would probably be better off repeating Kindergarten.  Wow.  OK.  The whole year everything was great and fine, he would be ready to move on until a week and a half ago.

Then we had his first t-ball practice on Sunday.  Which he refused to participate in due to his intense fear.  This Mom was more than upset and feeling powerless, proceeding to take it out on my husband that afternoon for an hour before our daughter’s fourth birthday party.

On Monday I got a call from my sister that our step brother was diagnosed with Leukemia just a few days before, and he was already in the hospital getting bombarded with chemo treatments.  He has two little adorable girls that sandwich my son in age.  He was healthy as a horse before this diagnosis, strong, and will put all his efforts into fighting this huge bump in the road of his life journey. I know it.  But if you are a spiritual being, please do put him in your thoughts and prayers…every little bit helps, and boy if you have ever seen What the Bleep Do We Know, then you know the truth in that.

What is my reaction to all of this?

I eat chocolate and ice cream first.

Then I go into hyper-overdrive sending my brain into a tizzy about what I can do, what are the options, and then I Google everything to make sure I have all the information I need to make any decisions that might need making.  I become obsessed with thoughts about what action needs to be taken, how I can help, what is the best thing for each person in need of support at this exact moment.

After taking the tiniest bit of anti-anxiety medication, so tiny my sister calls it a placebo, and getting on the treadmill to continue training for that crazy 10 miler, I stood in the shower last evening and one thought broke through all the others.  “Stop trying to control everything and feel the pain instead.  Feel. The.  Pain.”

Hmm…in that moment I realized I throw myself into ‘do’ mode right away and not ‘feel’ mode.  Evidently I like to try everything in my power to keep myself distracted from the pain in my heart, the fear in my mind, the worry about the future none of us can control anyway, by busying myself in hopes I can somehow save the day and the pain will go away.

WOW.

My shrink is going to be so proud.  Even if my heart feels painful, yet hopeful in this moment, and I feel less burdened now that I have released a few of the hammers that I carry in a satchel over my shoulder. All of these things pile into our lives so that we are blessed with lessons such as these.

Even if we are left with the burden to just feel.

Spill it: What is your typical reaction to news that pains your heart?  Do you move into action or sit in your shock?

* FYI I have posted at Reality Writes today too…and it ain’t this one!

My husband found this little diddy last week while he was working on his own new website Adventure Socket.

I have to be honest and share that I have mixed emotions about revisiting this time in my life that took place exactly ten years ago…

The scariest part is how fast the ten years have gone, because it really just seems like yesterday.

The amazing part is that I knew at that moment, on the edge of that airplane, that there was no place on earth I was supposed to be instead of exactly where I was.  And God I was happy.

The part that has me feeling depressed and crappy is that I have anxiety.

I had it then too, but it wasn’t debilitating.  It was more something I was just discovering.  I had some symptoms that were curious and I went to find out what they were.  My back would go completely numb when I first went back to college at 24, in sheer worry that I wouldn’t be able to ‘perform’.  My hands would go tingly and my mouth too in certain situations.  I had tests for MS to make sure the numbness in my back wasn’t caused by that.  An hour in an MRI tube…yeah, that won’t cause panic in anyone…

Now, I find this ghost ‘anxiety’ haunting me in ways I couldn’t have imagined back then.

It.  Gets.  In the way.  Of.  The life.  I want.

I am not even sure I could jump out of an airplane right now.  I have such anticipatory anxiety, that on my recent trip to Epcot in Florida I barely found joy in it.  I was so tightly wrapped in the cloak of  my secret that the entire time there  I worried that I ‘might’ have a panic attack or one of the rides ‘might’ bring back the vertigo I experienced a year and a half ago that sent life as I knew it into a tailspin.  My body spent the entire day on heightened alert.

Right now, I want to cry watching that video…knowing in my heart that that moment was one of the best in my life.  Knowing that a life full of adventure is the life I always dream of…yet there is this monkey on my back that refuses to let go.  And this fuzzy ringtail lemur of mine is not a fan of adventure and living in the moment.  She is a fan of the mundane, of monotony, of schedules, of worry, and of predictability.  I am not sure where I end and where she begins anymore…we are one for now.

Damn her.

Damn me.

Damn ‘it’.

Spill it: Do share anything you find familiar in this post.  This Mama needs some mother nurture in this moment.