The Evolving Homemaker

One improbable housewife's odyssey into the realm of mothering, cooking, crafting, gardening, and more…

 

Archive for the ‘Mothering’ Category

Can You Make Everyone Happy?

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.

Recipe For A Perfect Spa Night

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Last Saturday my husband took my son on a date.  They went to a monster truck show.  As fun as that sounded, not, a spa night at home with my little girl sounded like just the date I was after.

I sorta had another motive too, other than just planning a perfect spa night with my little gal.  I wanted to teach her something, something it has taken me almost 39 years to learn.  You’re worth it.  You’re worth it.  You’re worth it.

I have spent my whole life undervaluing my worth.  One of the lessons I am intent on teaching my kids is that they are valuable beyond belief, and they should never doubt it.  My daughter constantly asks for back scratches.  99% of the time I oblige and  scratch away.  The lesson I want her to take away is that she is worth it, that if it feels good to her she should ask for it, and that when she is looking for her life mate, if they are willing to scratch her back when she asks then she just might have found her diamond in the rough.

So in light of teaching lessons, and having really great skin, we set off on a night of rest, relaxation, and rejuvenation.  Enjoy the recipes below, they all worked fantastic!

face mask recipe the evolving homemaker

First up?  Our face mask:

1/2 an avocado

1 T. crushed oatmeal (I crushed it with a mortar and pestle)

1 T. organic plain yogurt

1 tsp. honey

face cleanser recipe the evolving homemaker

Next up?  Our face cleanser:

1 tsp. honey

2 T. cream

One mushed up kiwi

Can I just tell you my face was SO soft the next day!  We used regular face lotion that I already had, making lotion is a little more labor intensive than we had time for!

foot scrub recipe the evolving homemaker

The recipe for our foot scrub:

1 C. sugar

2 to 3 drops of Jasmine essential oil

2 T. coconut oil (I warmed this up in the microwave, just a teeny bit, not enough to melt, just enough to soften it)

Then mix it all together. This by far was my favorite of the recipes, and my feet never looked so good the next day. And let me tell you my feet take a beating in flip flops and bare feet all summer long, usually I hide them under socks all winter!

homeamade spa recipes the evolving homemaker

Our little tray of yummies to begin our spa night.  A neck warmer, nail polish for manicures and pedicures with glitter (my daughter is teaching me a lot about glitter these days and I am eating it up), night cream, lotion, and heel scrub.  I also set up a basin of warm water in the living room and towels to wipe our faces after each step.

foot soak recipe the evolving homemaker

We started with a foot soak in warm water and Himalayan Rose Mineral Salts.  Then we applied our foot scrub and rinsed our feet in the soak.

spa night at home the evolving homemaker

What was surprising to me, and quite endearing, was that my daughter wanted to do everything I did to her to me.  So sweet.

at home spa treatments the evolving homemaker

Mama with the mask and cucumbers.  For the sake of your face I just thought I should share that it is helpful if you bring the cucumbers to room temperature first…brrr….

So there it is.  A glimpse into our spa evening.  We listened to meditation music, had tea, and finished up the evening watching a movie that I could barely stay awake during since I had become so relaxed.

I encourage you to try this at home with your little princesses or for yourself!  Remind yourself how worth it you are to take some time away to give yourself a pedicure, a manicure, a real facial.  Your spirit will love you for it.

Cooking And Mothering

I just got done watching The Next Iron Chef: Super Chefs, there is something about food I seem to not be able to get away from.  Maybe it is the fact that we need to eat to live.  But it is more than that I think.

I started watching Food Network for some reason when I was pregnant with my son.  I was SO sick, I could barely eat a thing.  A bagel.  That is what I could eat.  For like 7 months.  After those first seven months I was still nauseous a lot, but I could eat a bit more than a bagel.  So instead of eating I watched others make food.

Strange but true.

Fast forward a year, and I was sick again.  This time pregnant with my daughter and oh so ill that the emergency room doctor said it was the worst case of dehydration he had ever seen, after they tried drawing blood but what they got was more like sludge.  After my return home from spending three months at my sisters house because I could not take care of myself or my son, we spent a lot of time in the house alone, with Food Network.

In fact every afternoon we both fell asleep together on the couch to Giada, Ina, and the lady with all the butter Paula Dean.  By age two my son had his favorite food network shows of his own; Jamie At Home and now Guy Fieri.  I don’t have as much time to watch T.V. these days, and really the only reason we have Dish Network is so we can keep Food Network for me when one of those days comes along in which I actually have a moment to enjoy a show about food.

I am religious about watching The Next Food Network Star and The Next Iron Chef  though.  Others like Chopped and Cupcake Wars I catch when I am sick and in bed all day on a Saturday and they are doing a marathon.

Maybe, just maybe, I watch because I cannot cook like that.  Because I am a mess in the kitchen with a few hits here and there and a whole bunch of misses everywhere.  Some part of me would love to go to culinary school right now at this moment. But what is a stay at home Mom going to do with that except cook for her family, which would be great for them, but not really realistic for financial reasons?

Maybe as a philosopher and an artist, I am inspired when the two come together in such a magnificent way you feel blessed somehow watching it.  That is how I felt about Chef Zakarian and his battle to become the Next Iron Chef this season.  I know, I know it sounds ridiculously cheesy.  But somehow watching the finale yesterday I got the sense of an artist putting his passion for food and life together with his values and philosophical leanings in a way that screams “This is what I was meant to do”, and not in a prideful, egotistical way, but in a way in which only magic comes forth.

Maybe I am even a little jealous because I still don’t know ‘what I am supposed to do’, and with that knowledge I will probably not hit a moment in my life where it all comes together in such a way that I sit back and say to myself, “Of course, of course this is where I would be right now at this moment.”  I sorta feel lucky enough if the kids eat in a given day and don’t kill each other.  I am grateful for the time spent with them, with a bit of time to read, a bit of time to indulge my respect for food well prepared, a teeny bit of time to write, and a slew of moments to ponder my spiritual growth thrown in as icing on the cake.

Will that a pinnacle in my life create?  Probably not.  But that is O.K. too.

Of course, one should never say never…

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Modern Homemakers

A few weeks ago I got contacted by Emily Matchar for a book she is working on based on what she calls “The New Domesticity”.  You can read all of her blog posts on the subject and chime in with your views on her blog here.  At first I thought she would eat me alive, for the lifestyle I have chosen for the moment, but the more I read her blog the more genuinely interested she sounded in what is causing women to sort of reclaim lost domestic skills over the past few years.  A trend that doesn’t look like it is fading, but actually may be growing.

Why do we want to homestead, grow our own food, learn to knit, can, stay home with the kids, and even home school?

Since she first approached me, I really started to think about WHY.  Why had I chosen this life over one outside the home rocketing to the top of a career in the non-profit world?  Why had I chosen differently than my own Mom?  Why DO I want to learn to knit?  Why DO I want to grow my own food?  What has led me to these choices.

It has been fascinating to think about.  From the fact that I was a latch key kid, to not having any financial independence of my own if I ever needed it.  From how I didn’t really want to get married and have kids, to having kids and homeschooling to boot!  From being an outspoken activist, to returning home with my activism instead.

How did I get here?

Emily asked about my Mom and her feelings of my choices and whether they reflected on her.  I asked her, her response was, “Of course, and we were the generation who discovered that we actually can’t have it all.”  After all, the home was still her realm when she was in it. I often think about that too, some of my friends seem to balance it fine, I think I would be a nut case.  But then again, many of us who stay home and are reclaiming domesticity also have careers we are creating from that.  There are bloggers, published writers, crafters who make side money on Etsy, women who work part time at nights, women who are trying to create a ‘job’ that works more with their chosen lifestyles and not having their lifestyles be dictated by their jobs.

As I said to Emily, whenever we make one choice, another choice is not being made.  That is all.  I chose to stay home with my kids, so  I am not rising up the corporate ladder.  I am trying to create a job of my own as the kids grow with writing, but if I have knit something…a load of laundry hasn’t gotten done.  If I have planted seeds, the kids have played on their own for a few hours.  If I have gotten a blog post up successfully in the morning, the kids have made a mess out of my living room and the dishes from breakfast are still in the sink. I have chosen to home school, so I don’t get a plethora of ‘mommy time’.  These are just choices.  If I decide to go to work, it just means I will lose some time with my children.  We all make choices based on our own experiences, and our own values as to what we deem most important at the moment.

We all choose.  We all choose differently.

I love this new wave of domesticity.  Whether it is for environmental reasons, political statement reasons, reclaiming our finances away form a purely corporate sustained society, just for fun, hobbies to remain sane, to creating jobs that fit more into the life we want to live, I find it fascinating and will be looking forward to reading Emily’s book to see what she finds.

The reason I post this is I am curious, as I am in a circle of people that have mostly made similar choices, what are your reasoning’s? Why do you knit, can, plant a garden with some semblance of success each year, are interested in beekeeping, sustainable living, homeschooling, blogging, etc. etc. etc.?  What on your path led you to this sort of living?  Or, what on your path led you to abhor this sort of homemaking?  What on your path said, “No way I can have it all” and led you to keeping your position in the workforce while raising your children? And does your husband do equal housework while you both work?

Let’s open this dialogue cause one thing that drives me absolutely nutty in the mothering community is why one choice is better than another.  They aren’t.  Organic vs. non/Vaccinate vs. non/Homeschool vs. public/Stay at hom vs. go to work/Co-bed vs. cry it out…blah, blah, blah.  They are just different choices, and I wish we could just support each other more and think we have the answers a little less.

What are your two cents here?

And afterthought: And what is with that, “having it all” we need to drop that like a ton of bricks as mothers.  I think I have it all by staying home, others think they are having it all by doing both, I think this term needs to be put to rest.

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Disciplining Children The Argument Continues

the evolving homemaker discipline children

So here I was today, about to review a lovely little gem of a book I read last week, when instead I came across a blog post that piqued my interest.  This gal is fabulously confident in who she is, and I love it.  Her post today got me thinking about my own discipline memories as a child and how it is hands down the one thing my husband and I disagree on most often.

FreePlayLife’s post today was Bullies Are Bullied First Usually By People Trying To Be Good Parents, go read it.  I then headed over to the CNN article she was discussing called Permissive Parents:  Curb Your Brats, read that too. Yikes.  I think the title says it all.

Coming from a household in which I got the ‘look’, I can tell you I never felt good about it.  It never said just, “Stop doing that” but it also subtly added in, “You are evidently a moron for even thinking that, doing that, or saying that”, whatever ‘that’ was at the given time. It also added in “What the hell is wrong with you”.

And you must also know, that the ‘look’ doesn’t work unless you have done something they should be afraid of, hauled off and spanked your kids, brought the belt out on your kids, or done some other humiliating form of corporal punishment.  They change their behavior with the ‘look’ cause they don’t want to be humiliated, have their space invaded, or be physically hurt, again.

Now my parents did the best they could with the tools they had.  They did what they knew.  They did what most parents in that generation did.   Judging by conversations I have had with others of that era and articles that shed such light as the CNN one does.  HOWEVER, if you can look around at the world and tell me that it is so fabulous, perfect, that many, not all, people are not selfish, completely insecure, on lots of anxiety and depression meds, power hungry, basically unhappy, narcissistic, blind consumers, or cranky, over eaters or under eaters, or oblivious, lack compassion, or some other of the myriad of issues people have, then you just continue on living in the bubble that you are perfect, you are raising/raised perfect children, that the ‘look’ works and is supportive to a child’s well being, after all, it happened to us and we turned out ok…cough, cough, cough…hack.

For the rest of us who are more sensitive to the subtleties in peoples behavior, we will move on and discuss how important it is to let children express themselves.  That obviously we don’t want our kids to be assholes around you, but that we also are purposely NOT raising them to always tow the line blindly.  That we want them to explore themselves, create passionate lives, have opinions that are valid and not discounted, feel that they matter and are not second class citizens, understand that they have feelings that are important to deal with just not make go away cause they come up at inopportune times.  I like to think of it as purposely NOT trying to raise stormtroopers, robotic people that move to the same drummer, but instead dance to their own music, even if the social norm is different. For crying out loud, kids spend more time reading text messages than books, does that mean I want my kids to do that too just cause it is the social norm?

I think the reflection of society in this argument is that many actually still harbor the idea that children are second class.  Is it somehow part of the whole idea that they are ‘interrupting’ how we would otherwise live our lives?  I know as a Mom, I get frustrated with my own people when I am trying to do something and they are arguing, making a mess, what have you.  But I am genuinely trying to work on this completely self absorbed aspect of myself.  If you are out to dinner and some kids are being loud, is it disturbing you because now your dinner isn’t living up to your ‘expectations’ and you are too inflexible to change them?

Are we blaming kids because we are too busy to practice patience?  That we are too stressed to remember how it was to travel on an airplane when we were five?  Are we so plugged in and checked out that we forget that kids are actually…kids? Children?  Little human beings that need love and guidance not boot camp? Would we seriously give our own friends the ‘look’ and expect them to change their behavior that we don’t happen to agree with?  What about our boss?

Ah…no easy answer.  I could spend all day thinking about why kids are less than human beings in so many peoples eyes.  Instead I am going to continue to surround myself with other parents who are just trying the best that they can.  That are honest about their zillions of mistakes.  That look at children with eyes of compassion and love, not contempt.  Yes, yes, our future lies in the hands of these little people, I will do anything not to let them watch life pass them by because they are too afraid and insecure they are not good enough to grab their dreams because my form of discipline was  the ‘look’.

A poem that might shed some light:

ANGELA’S WORD

When Angela was very young,
Age two or three or so,
Her mother and her father
Taught her never to say NO.
They taught her that she must agree
With everything they said,
And if she didn’t, she was spanked
And sent upstairs to bed.

So Angela grew up to be
A most agreeable child;
She was never angry
And she was never wild;
She always shared, she always cared,
She never picked a fight,
And no matter what her parents said,
She thought that they were right.

Angela the Angel did very well in school
And, as you might imagine, she followed every rule;
Her teachers said she was so well-bred,
So quiet and so good,
But how Angela felt inside
They never understood.

Angela had lots of friends
Who liked her for her smile;
They knew she was the kind of gal
Who’d go the extra mile;
And even when she had a cold
And really needed rest,
When someone asked her if she’d help
She always answered “Yes”.

When Angela was thirty-three, she was a lawyer’s wife.
She had a home and family, and a nice suburban life.
She had a little girl of four
And a little boy of nine,
And if someone asked her how she felt
She always answered, “Fine.”
But one cold night near Christmas time
When her family was in bed,
She lay awake as awful thoughts went spinning through her head;

She didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how,
But she wanted her life to end;
So she begged Whoever put her here
To take her back again.

And then she heard, from deep inside,
A voice that was soft and low;
It only said a single word
And the word it said was… NO!

From that moment on, Angela knew
Exactly what she had to do.
Her life depended on that word,
So this is what her loved ones heard:

NO, I just don’t want to;
NO, I don’t agree;
NO, that’s yours to handle;
NO, that’s wrong for me;
NO, I wanted something else;
NO, that hurt a lot!
NO, I’m tired, and NO, I’m busy,
And NO, I’d rather not!

Well, her family found it shocking,
Her friends reacted with surprise;
But Angela was different, you could see it in her eyes;
For they’ve held no meek submission
Since that night three years ago
When Angela the Angel
Got permission to say NO.

Today Angela’s a person first, then a mother and a wife.
She knows where she begins and ends,
She has a separate life.
She has talents and ambitions,
She has feelings, needs and goals.
She has money in the bank and
An opinion at the polls.

And to her boy and girl she says,
“It’s nice when we agree;
But if you can’t say NO, you’ll never grow
To be all you’re meant to be.
Because I know I’m sometimes wrong
And because I love you so,
You’ll always be my angels
Even when you tell me NO.”

~Barbara K. Bassett

Having Faith In My Own Mothering Choices

Last night, as I was up late online trying to figure out why my pesky Facebook widget isn’t working, yes, that one over there in the sidebar, you see it?  That big pink box? Anyway, a friend posted that they may be changing their mind on their decision to home school, and sending their daughter to school.

I was incredibly disappointed.  My kids totally love this little gal, and other kids my friends have loved stopped hanging out with us when we decided to home school.  My daughter cried on a few occasions about it.  I panicked with this news as I feared my children would loose yet another friend they enjoyed.

Then I began to question my own decision making regarding homeschooling.  Was I doing the right thing?  Am I crazy?  Would they be better somewhere else?  All of my past self doubts came creeping back, gnawing at my mind, creating a headache over night in my body.

This morning, as I was reading a book on Buddhist practices at swim lessons, I was gently reminded that dang, life is so much bigger than where my people get educated.  I am a believer that our work on this earth is more than a physical one, that there are deeper lessons to learn, different practices required of us than our busy western culture dictates.  When I stop.  And I breathe.  In an instant I can become aware of the myriad of ways in which I let self doubt and other peoples choices cloud my own internal leanings.

I love homeschooling.  Not everyday.  I am not going to lie.  That would be unfair to you.  But I really do enjoy giving my little people hugs and kisses all day, watching them grow,  watching them succeed at something.  I enjoy finding other ways for them to learn, ways outside of our schoolroom, ways that include others teaching them.  I have greatly enjoyed watching my little boy come out of his shell, begin talking to those he trusts, and trying so many new things this year, as we worked with him at his own pace.

Do I wish I was better at it?  Hell yes.  Everyday.  But I wish I was a better Mom in general too.  I wish I was better at organization, and exercising, and patience, and wife-dom, and writing, and friendships, and website design…what irks me is how quickly I waffled, even if just for a moment.

As mothers, we must learn how to make decisions for our own families, and stand firmly in them without wavering, until it is time to make a new decision.  I feel sometimes the pressure is enormous to raise perfect children, from the home birth to organic food, to vaccinate or not to, to stay at home or to go to work, to alternative schools, to not too many activities, but just enough activities, to whether they get outside enough, or whether they free play enough, to college selection.  Oy vey.  Stop already.

Trust myself.  Trust myself.  Trust myself.  If I can teach that one lesson to my children because they learn it from me by observing my actions, they will be much better for it.  Trust ourselves.  Trust ourselves.  There is no perfect way.  There are just ideas.   And no judgement.  No judgement.  No judgement.  We are each doing the best we can.

Mindfulness About What We Say In Front Of Kids

baby_monkey

I sat in the parking lot of swim class last week, having my kids dry out in the sun.  Yes, we were out there because I had forgotten to bring them clean clothes to put on after their class.  Another mother oops.

Anyway, as I sat there I was watching all the other Mom’s racing to their kiddos classes, I overheard one Mom say hastily, “I don’t have time for this.”  It stood out to me, as I often am saying that to my own little people.

“Hurry up, we are going to be late.”  “Quickly. Quickly.” Or, “We don’t have time for _______  today.” Feel free to fill in the blank with all the things you tell your kids you don’t have time to do too.  Park play, bike time, etc.

Then at a party last week one Mom, stunned that I homeschool, said, “No, no, I can’t wait for my kids to go to school.”  And I cannot tell you how many times I have heard people say that, “I can’t wait for my kids to be gone for the day.”

I fully understand the sentiment.  There are days I think that too!

Or how often Mom’s, and even myself, have said, “They are driving me NUTS today!”

The thing is, all of these thoughts are shared aloud…in front of children.  Sometimes their own, oftentimes mine as my kiddos are always with me.  And I am not an angel.  I fully admit to saying things in front of my people that I wish I could erase.  Sometimes I am oblivious to give it even a second thought.

I just wonder, what our kids are thinking when they hear these things.  “I don’t want you around?”  “You’re not worth the frustration to me?” “I can’t wait for you to leave most of the day?” “I don’t have time for you?”  “You annoy people?” Wow.  We all know that kids pay more attention than we give them credit for and are much more aware of what is being said than we would like to admit.

I am taking this mindful Monday to try and go as long as I can without saying such things to my babes.  And to also have conversation with them when we hear other people say things about their kids and why those people might feel frustrated just in the moment, but that they really do love their kids.  Mindfulness goes beyond ourselves and takes into account that which we put out to the world.

I know we all want our kids to feel good about themselves, and about their relationships with us.  I am left wondering how often we discount being mindful about our words about them…in front of them.  I am dedicated to becoming mindful about this and trying my darndest to only say positive things about them!  Especially in front of people!

After all, if I don’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all.

*What are your thoughts here?  How often have you caught yourself saying something that if you took time to reflect you might realize your kids probably felt pretty poopy about?  What are your tricks to stopping yourself before complaining about lack of sleep, picky eaters, fighting, etc. at your play dates?

Mothering Mantra

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.

Mothering And Activism

On this Mother’s Day, the Mama’s at Mother’s Acting Up asked me to add my two cents to the boiling pot of what mothering and activism looks like, this on a day that began not as a reason to give flowers to our mother’s but as a call for mother’s to rise up and take action with the Mother’s Day Proclamation in 1870 by Julia Ward Howe.

She begins, “Arise then … women of this day!
  Arise, all women who have hearts…” and ends with the powerful, “That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
 May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
 And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
 To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
 The amicable settlement of international questions,
 The great and general interests of peace.”

Now there is something to celebrate! (You can read the entire proclamation here)

Mothering and activism.  Mamavism I like to call it, has been quite a journey for me.

It has had it’s ups and downs, twists and turns, always begging for me to stay on my toes and ask difficult questions of myself.  Am I showing up where I can?  Am I showing up at all?  Am I showing up too much?

One thing was for certain when I became a mother, in an instant I understood how universal the feelings of motherhood were.  One instant is all it took.  My son was six weeks early, he spent 21 days in the NICU after delivery.  I was terrified.  And he had the best of modern medicine around him.

What of the mothers who aren’t so lucky?  Who are terrified for their children, and there is no way they can give them to the best of their ability a chance to grow up, a chance to live out their dreams, a chance to eat today?  Those mother’s feel the same way I do about their children, our hearts are the same but our circumstances are entirely different.

I had always been passionate about so many issues, but once the motivation to get off the couch and actually take action shook me at my core, I spent a lot of time outer focused.  I got angry at every, what I deemed, injustice.  I took it personally.  I got frustrated. I carried the burdens emotionally.  I got fired up and put myself in the public arena.

I got burnt out too.

Then I began to take something my minister had said over and over to heart, “If you want peace in the world, start with yourself.”  Ahh…so often I argued over that simple statement.  I pushed against it.  I ignored it.  I disagreed with it wholeheartedly, I surmised that if you see injustice and sit on your meditation pillow you have checked out.  I always said to myself, “If you ain’t helpin’ to paddle the boat, get the heck outta the boat.”

But I started to realize I had room for improvement.  I yelled at my kids more often than I would have liked, I began to wonder if I can’t keep a peaceful heart towards my children, those whom I love most in the world, how do I expect the Israelis and Palestinians to come to an agreement? If I could so easily get angry over water spilled across my table, into workbooks and papers, why am I surprised that people become angry and take matters into their own hands when they feel that they have been suppressed for decades? If I claimed to care so much for the environment and the plight of workers around the world, how did I happen to end up at Target so often buying ‘stuff’ because I was bored, or lonely, or both?

For now, my mamavism starts closer to home.  Where I can cultivate my own compassion for those in my immediate world, and practice radiating that out instead of frustration.  How can I be an example to my children?  What changes can I make in my own life that support my beliefs instead of pointing to the outside world to change?  Can I bike more? How much food can we grow in our own yard?  Can we get almost to sustainability?  Can we live more simply? How is it we can build a sense of community in our cities and towns so that we all feel more engaged, more capable, more accountable, more supported? Can I be more present and connected with all who I interact with, instead of my head down on my keyboard or sending a text message instead of deep listening in the moment?

The world could use some more deep listening.  Luckily I don’t even know how to text…

Yes, mamavism takes many different forms, many different paths, and is forever changing based on our own life circumstances and what our mothering is itself demanding of us at the moment.  That doesn’t mean we don’t jump in when we can, it means that we show up mindfully, aware of what we are giving up to be there, who is gaining that we be there, what it is that lights our hearts on fire and when we need to kindly say ‘no’ and take care of ourselves and those closest to us instead.

Mothering and mamavism, each a delicate balance.  Every day, every moment, begs us to balance what we need, what our families need, what the planet needs, what humanity needs.  And there is no map to help us navigate, just our own inner being to let us know when it is time for action, time for rest, time for nurturing, time for rallying.  Let us learn to listen to our own voices, but ARISE none the less, wherever and whenever and however that may look.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!


Mindful About The Toys Our Kids Play With

I have no answer to this one.  It is a continual struggle for me.  Today I would like YOUR input, if anything to start a conversation. How mindful do we need to be about the toys that are brought into our homes?

Dilemma:  Your child wants Star Wars Lego sets, figures, etc. all which contain guns in them.  You don’t want to get him these things for Christmas etc, because you can’t understand why the toy sets must come with them, the kids would think they were awesome even without the guns.  He can’t understand why guns are an issue.  They just look cool.  To you, you know there are children his age around the world carrying guns and will kill people today because they are child soldiers.  To you, guns are not toys.  They are weapons.  You say he can have all the toys if he promises to give you the guns.

I have friends that don’t do any plastic toys.  I have friends that don’t allow princesses, while we have a little girl obsessed with them.  I have friends that allow toy guns and don’t have the same hang-ups as I.  I know people who barely have any toys for their kids and people who have whole rooms dedicated to toys.

I think while I may constantly feel judged about our toys-ok…princesses…that we allow in to our family, because truthfully most of the conversations I hear at parties and within my own community is that princesses suck, especially if they are of the corporate kind-there is no easy way to finagle the world of kids and their wants and interests and still not shove down their throats our wants and interests.

Do I want my daughter to grow up thinking that a prince will come one day and sweep her off her feet and they will live happily ever after without any notion of hard work?

NO.

Do I want my son to grow up thinking guns are toys and they are fun to play with?

NO.

One thing my daughter will learn in her first relationship as she grows up?  Hearts are broken.  People are flawed.  That is a reality that is learned if you are listening.  And should be pretty easy to realize if you pay attention to the undercurrents of your own parents marriage.  The great ones take hard work, kids should know that.

Where do our standards end and our kids interests begin?  Where are we allowed to draw a line in the sand and say, ‘No’ and not be judged by our community?  Or where can we say, ‘Yes’ and hope to not feel the same judgment?  Please know in this discussion, I am not judging the decisions every other parent makes with their kids and what toys come into their homes.  Do I feel bad sometimes when someone says, “Oh, well, we don’t allow princesses in our house” as they walk down the hallway to my daughters room to find it covered in pink and stickers of princesses all over the wall with dresses and shoes in the closet?

Yes.  But that is my own insecurity.

Do I feel bad when I start a conversation yesterday about guns and the toys  my child wants because half of the group wouldn’t allow it and the other half of the group totally does…and everyone gets quiet and doesn’t want to offer their opinion?

Yes.  But that is my own insecurity too.  Because the truth is I feel bad that I won’t allow him to have what he wants.  And I feel bad that my inner being and my connection to the Divine, doesn’t think that guns are toys.  I feel bad that my hearts has to break daily when children are killed in other countries wars thanks to the illegal gun trade in those areas.

When I became a Mom, there was going to be no princesses, no T.V., no sugar, only smart toys, natural toys, cloth diapers-which lasted like two days, I would spend all my time taking them amazing places, only nature walks and not indoor pizza plastic germ infested places, there wouldn’t be clothes from low paid workers overseas…yes, pre-parenting ideals are so lovely aren’t they? But I have planted my feet firmly in the mud on this gun one and am not moving.  But I think it is interesting to go through the steps of really articulating and feeling why I have stuck to my ‘guns’ this time.  I have read no research on the subject of kids, behavior, and guns.  I am just going with my heart on this one and, oh so many other things motherhood begs of us.

So lay it out there for us?  Are you really mindful and careful of the toys that come into your home?  No plastic?  No China?  No princesses?  No guns?  All guns?  All plastic?  Whatever Walmart has on sale?  Only Waldorf natural toys?  Only toys that will make them ‘smart’?  Second hand toys?  No toys? What is your mindfulness strategy when approaching your children’s wants and balancing your own beliefs?

Checking Out…Mindfully

I had an interesting thing happen this weekend.  Well, interesting is relative I suppose, another may have found this ‘thing’ completely fantastic.  Still another might have thought this ‘thing’ was a complete and utter disaster.  I myself found it…a bit in the middle…

My computer has gone completely wonky.  I am not sure what is going on, but for a good 48-72 hours it wouldn’t connect online.  And then when it did, I could get some email, but not all.  I had a hell of a time actually getting to my Google homepage, or dear God Facebook, but for just a moment Saturday morning all was wine and roses.  For like an hour.  Then I was shut out again until this morning.

What I noticed in this absence from mindless, numbing, computer dribble?  Is that I will find other mindless, numbing, dribble to fill that void, and pretty much right away.  In fact, as soon as I realized there was no motion on my desktop at all, except that little arrow that would happily move around, but wouldn’t actually launch anything, a slight flutter of anxiety ensued.

It wasn’t long after complete computer meltdown, that I ate ice cream.  And chocolate.  Nor did it take long before I caught up on my gazillion Oprah shows that have been sitting in my DVR since, yes, September.  I got to take in a bit of Hugh Jackman at midnight, knitting, so thank you Oprah.  I watched actual movies on Netflix and one that actually came in the mail too.  Huh, even Food Network made it in there for an hour or so.  I made lots of progress in the garden.  I ran errands.  Oh and cleaned the house multiple times.

Basically I spent every moment of this weekend doing everything EXCEPT remaining present.

It came to my attention this evening that I feel like I didn’t even have a weekend really.  That I didn’t spend any quality time with my children.  That I spent the time running, at top speed, away from that which is my life.

And that makes me sad.

I had a moment this evening, when I really LOOKED at my son.  The one who so often looks like such a big boy, especially always compared to his younger sister.  The one I ask so much more of because he is ‘older’.  The one I think must be O.K., only because he isn’t screaming at the top of his lungs; that just ain’t his style.  In that moment of presence on my part, I was able to see the truth.  He is just a little boy.  A boy that just desperately wants love and  mindful attention, like each of us.

I was also able to see a more painful truth, that in just this weekend alone, I had successfully pissed thousands of fleeting, beautiful moments away, by not being fully present with him and his sister.  There are no second chances in parenthood, no re-do’s.  This moment is it.

And I repeatedly blow it.  I checked out of mindful parenting.  Of being WITH them.  Of showing up in ways that parenthood asks of us, without running away.  I let myself make excuses that they don’t need me to entertain them ALL the time.  I fool myself to think they don’t need me to BE with them, to listen deeply, to look them in the eye with everything I say, to look them in the eye and hear everything they say, at every second.  A few moments can slide by  here and there and no one would be the wiser…

Except that is not true.  They are the wiser.

As I sit here this evening, trying my darndest not to cry, I am grateful that I was at least mindful enough to realize my habits.  Mindful enough to watch how I would react to not having this handy laptop distraction in my life constantly too.  I take solace in my awareness of checking out from time to time with my kids, only because it begs me to be better.  It reminds me to come home to my mindfulness practice, which I am learning is the gift my babes have to give me.

“Don’t run away to your computer Mama, nor to your food, or your ‘busy’ work.  We are life, we are the moments, we are the marrow, and yes, this. is. it.”  That is what they whisper to me, completely unaware they are doing it, they whisper to me…

So I Took The Kids For Ice Cream.

Sigh.  I took one day off from blogging, and that seemed alright.  I had spent way too much time crafting and way to much time blogging and the kids were feeling the pinch.  Cranky and fighting was our daily grind.  Yesterday I decided to just get homeschooling done early, take them for a walk with friends, which ended up hella windy, and go to and afternoon romp at a local rope gym.

Sometimes, when we have the best of intentions, we think we are the badass Mom of the world that we have it all mostly going smoothly just for that one day, the house isn’t exactly clean, but it would pass the EcoLab inspector, the kids are happy, and mostly not complaining or fighting…but you just know it can’t last…as soon as that wave of confidence finds a soft spot in your ego, something rips it out of your grasp.

Usually such times come crashing down because of a temper tantrum unexpectedly.  There is some shocking outburst from your child at the grocery store and your mothering badassness is brought into perspective. Or a skinned knee and tears follow that can only be helped by homemade cookies.  Maybe you get in a fender bender at Target, to bring that latte you just got onto your lap.  Scalding you as you scold the other driver in ways your children shouldn’t be privy too.

Or maybe a dear, dear, dear friend breaks the news that she has breast cancer.

And the wind goes out of your sails abruptly.

And your heart sinks, as it so often has when the phone rings, an email comes, an instant message brings the least expected news.

Then you move on with your day, only because you don’t know what else to do.

And after the days plans are over.  You take your kids for ice cream.  Because life just took on a new momentary shock of magnitude.  And it seems only appropriate that we enjoy the moment of indulgence not caring if it is 5:30 and dinner is right around the corner.  And you hope the ice cream will numb something…even though you already are surprisingly numb, you just don’t know it until later.

And then you cook dinner, shower, eat, all the while wondering, “Why?” “How?” And you obsessively question when the world is going to get pissed enough to end this cancer crisis that is taking away our sisters, our friends, or mothers and fathers.

Your mind might go into hyper-overdrive speculating on how you can help your friend, wanting to just make it go away, wishing beyond wishing there was something magical that would take away the fear that a mother would be feeling with this news.  You get so angry, because she doesn’t deserve this.  No one who gets breast cancer deserves this.

And you might cuss in your head.   A lot.  Things you don’t want your kids to repeat, like, “Shit!” and “Fuck!”  To just have a moment to be alone and scream it at the sky, as we often want to do in such times, with fighting words, arms raised in frustration.  Only to have them fall to our sides wondering if we have even been heard.

You might suddenly get scared too.  After all, your own mortality has now been presented to you too.  No one is immune.

At some point you might sit down to write a blog post.  And you recognize, that you have nothing to say. Looking over your notes for the next few posts, you become aware that it is all so painfully…trivial.

So you don’t post.

And you go through your day wondering what you could possibly say to explain.

Knowing all the while, that nothing you can say or write or think will matter, everyone who reads this will have sat in this same spot at some point in their lives and understand.  They will remember.  They will know.

Which leads you to realize, there really is…nothing to say…

Rhythm

Rhythm.

“Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm, and harmony.” ~Thomas Merton

It is so elusive to me.

During the equinox, rhythm was on my mind a lot.  One is supposed to set their intention in the spring around balance.  I was needing balance alright, balance in my mothering.  So much of my days were spent reacting.  Reacting to what needed to be done, who needed to be where, who expected what, who needed what.  It was a constant state of ‘automatic pilot’ yearning for more intentioned living.

It came to a head on Wednesday night when my six year old announced gleefully that, “You can’t make me.”

My less mindful self would have announced back with a sassy attitude and nasty look that, “Oh yes I can little buddy” with a glare that could have burned a hole right through him.  But instead I went into silence.  For like an hour.  And instead of loosing my shit, I mulled the whole thing over. I realized that my intention for spring, to bring more rhythm to my mothering, was now in need of implementation.

I have a plan.  And that is, to…make a plan.

First, we switched all of the kids activities to the afternoon.  Second, we began to do school in the morning.

And that is as far as I have gotten yet.

My dream?  A schedule that allowed for more time with community, less t.v., more time in nature, meditation circles in the mornings to smudge, chant, sing, call in God, learn how our bodies feel in silence, create an awareness in the house of deep listening to each other, time for ritual, daily quiet time, less fighting, more mindfulness, more efficiency.

What we actually have is, reaction to this fire.  Reaction to that chaos. Trying to manage by dealing with what has just taken place or what we have to be doing in the next moment.  Not a lot of living in THIS moment.

Today, tonight, and this weekend, I will be mulling over that which I want to bring more of into our daily experiences, and that which is not nurturing to those dreams of mindful moments with my children.  And I intend to work it all out on an Excel spreadsheet.  So romantic.  From waking up, to brushing teeth, to nature walks, it will all be on there.

Why the detailed spreadsheet? I do this for the actualization goal of creating rhythm.  I tend to be a pretty scattered gal, wanting to launch into whatever bee pops into my bonnet on any given day.  If I just attempt to ‘wing it’ through this rhythmic adventure, I will get sidetracked and loose steam.  I know myself at least that well.

Happiness=balance, order, rhythm, and harmony.  I can second that Mr. Merton.  I second that.

Stay tuned, I will update how this dance with rhythm pans out in our home.  What worked and what was not so good.  What the kids loved, and what they could do without.  Those parts that I loved, and those that just didn’t end up as intended.  And what we will hopefully have in a few weeks, a few months, and over the years, is a home that listens to what is going on and is aware and responsive when change is needed.

And rhythm.

NA97WSUAUCZV

Mindful Space

One thing about motherhood, life probably, but I have only my perspective which is that of a mother, is that it seems like there is not a lot of space.

By space I don’t mean physical space, more rooms, more yard, more of anything.  I am referring to the space in which one can think.  One can be.  One can contemplate, or one can expand a thought for more than 3 seconds without interruption.

I feel sometimes there is a constant sense of overwhelm.  It is so subtle, one could totally miss it.  It isn’t stress per se, but really the sense that I cannot even have thoughts of my own, time of my own, space to be.

My husband gave me the bestest birthday present ever, a night in a hotel suite with a jacuzzi tub, followed by an afternoon massage the next day.  After a relaxing lavender soak, I decided to take a hike on one of my favorite trails between the hotel and the massage.  To smell the earth.  To enjoy one of my favorite past times which I have only done twice since my eldest grew out of the toddler carrier.  To be in nature, smell her, listen to what enlightenment she had to pass on to me that day.  Listen, without needing to respond.

The daily grind is great if you are one that thrives on it, that gets sense of achievement from the to-do checklist being complete.  While I enjoy those little checks too, my mind needs time to just explore, to listen deeply to what my spirit is saying.  My spirit has messages it wants and needs to share which I find hard to hear in between refereeing children fighting, getting snacks for the hungry, bathing, educating, listening to, answering their never ending questions, while they are making music on the bottoms of the dogs bowls with my wooden cooking spoons…

Mindfulness about space.  It is such a theme to my life as of late, I came home from my mini get away, to find this blog post about pilgrimage and motherhood, which you can read here. One of the things which stood out most was this, “Not wanting to vacate or retreat from my daily life, instead I wish for holiness imbibed into my days like the most divine tea leaves seeping their essence into hot water for the perfect cup of tea.  So how to live each day as a sacred journey, a holy day?  How to live each day as a pilgrimage?  Holy.  Beautiful.  Not just functional. Here is the guiding question of my days that are so full of the practical routine of sustaining life and home.”

Eckhart Tolle says, “Inner space consciousness and who you are in your essence are one and the same.  In other words, the form of little things leaves room for inner space.  And it is from inner space, the unconditioned consciousness itself, that true happiness, the joy of Being emanates.  To be aware of little, quiet things, however, you need to be quiet inside.  A high degree of alertness is required.  Be still. Look. Listen. Be present.”

How to do that with constant interruptions of even ones thoughts?

Later, he says, “I am not saying here that helping others, caring for your children, or striving for excellence, in whatever field are not worthwhile things to do.  For many people, they are an important part of their outer purpose, but outer purpose alone is always relative, unstable, and impermanent.  This does not mean that you should not be engaged in those activities.  It means you should connect them to your inner, primary purpose [awakening], so that deeper meaning flows into what you do.”

I want to be a Mom leaving deeper imprints of love on my children than I am now.  A quality of presence which I lack at present in so many incidences.  They are the motivation for which I move toward awakening.  And they are also the daily practice and daily meditation in which that purpose can be explored.

Mothering is not who I am, it is what I do.  As I focus on that primary purpose of presence and sacredness amongst the chaos, space is something I have yet to grasp, if it is even graspable.

Self Care And Motherhood

I had to pass this post on to everyone today.  This is a dear friend of mine who, damn, inspires me every time I see her.  When she was pregnant with her son, I was in awe of her personality, her calming presence in a room, her sweet demeanor, her honesty.  I often thought to myself, “This is going to be one lucky boy, he has a FANTASTIC Mom, I wish I could be like that for my own kids.”

All of those things, sweet, calm, honest.

But her post on self care, hitting the wall, knowing there is no other place to be but in ones motherhood, yet knowing there is no perfection in it really strikes a cord with me today.

I woke up sick at 330 this morning.  Not sick like vomiting or a cold or the runs or the like, but with vertigo.  Ugh.  My nemesis has returned.

Is it a reflection of not enough self care?  Of constantly giving, and even when I am ‘away’ having ‘my’ time, the nagging sense of ‘not good enough’, ‘not good enough Mama’ hangs over it all, the to-do list a constant tornado in my mind.  My brain can do quite a fair amount of beatings in and of itself.  Is it a sign of endless guilt?  A symptom of not caring for my body in my hurry to care for everyone else and punish myself for being completely inadequate at it?  A reminder that I matter in this world, and it is time to get that deeply, not just intellectually?  A signal that the wall my friend mentions is quickly approaching and I am going to need to decide if I am going to hit it or avert disaster?

Compassion.  Understanding.  Forgiveness.  Empathy.  Strength.  Gentleness.

Why are those so easy to give away to others, and yet so hard to turn on ourselves?  The mothers?

My prayer is this, “May they at least know how much I really do love them, to the depth of my being, with every ounce of my spirit.  And may I learn to love myself, with an ounce of that which I reserve for them.”

E-Readers Or Print?

This morning I was laying in bed thinking about e-readers.  Not for fun and because I couldn’t think about anything else, but because I bought a book my friend is currently reading on her e-reader.

What I laid in bed thinking, was that for all those people that claim there isn’t really a difference, there IS.  There actually is a HUGE difference and this particular book shows why.

But then I get on Facebook to check on ‘happenings’ with my folks, and find that Mothering Magazine is officially closing it’s doors as a print magazine and will be closing it’s online publication in just a month.  It made my personal discovery this morning in bed all the more necessary to share.

And yes, I see the irony in that I am a blogger but like to mostly read in print.  I get it.  I am a blogger because there are less places to sell articles, as they go out of business, and to get my foot in the door.  In this day and age, it is that much harder even with a blog, you need a blog with tons of followers to be able to claim your book is worthy, or some other ‘specialness’ about you per this blog post from a literary agent, Rachelle Gardner, and I quote:

“→ Does your topic typically require credentials or degrees to be credible? If so, do you have them? If not, ask yourself what you DO have (besides personal experience) that overcomes your lack of credentials. Are you really funny? Do you have a blog that gets 5,000 hits a day? Have you won awards or major accolades in your subject area? Make sure you have something special to recommend you to a book-buying audience. If you don’t have it, go create it, or give up the idea of traditional publication.”

I have to be special to an worldwide audience that finds the likes of Paris Hilton special?  Huh.  Stumps me every time.

But I also read books.  And lots of them.  And lots of magazines that I LOVE.  I just subscribed to Urban Farm, well the hubby did for me for Valentine’s Day, and couldn’t imagine reading it online all the time.  I for one don’t like to sit at my computer for more than 45 minutes MAX.  E-mail checking, Facebook checking, blogging all in that time frame.

So here it is, the book I bought yesterday out of complete desperation to get my eating habits back in order Crazy, Sexy, Diet by Kris Carr:

the evolving homemaker crazy sexy diet

So far I am all about this book.  It is a lot of what I already know, but just can’t seem to make happen in my food/health life, but she is sassy and I love it.  Also, the whole book is just beautiful.

the evolving homemaker case for books

There are stunning pictures on so many pages, and incredible print layouts that add to the funky, vibrant, meditative, sassy vibe.

the evolving homemaker e-readers or books

I just don’t think reading a screen and looking at photos on the screen has the same overall effect.  We are going to miss something if anything and everything goes to computer only.  I am sad that such a popular magazine with myself and my friends has shut its doors.  I am not sure, as we all get giddy over our new phones that do everything, and new mini-computers that we can watch movies at during swim classes instead of watch or be bored at like in the old fashioned days, or how much more excited we get over a text message we just MUST send out rather than actually speaking to our friends and loved ones in person anymore, we won’t one day be sad.

Will we care that we have lost the ability to turn some pages, to underline those sentences that move us, to see beautiful colored photos next to the texts they pertain to begging us to live a better and more full life, to hear from the mouths of authors at book signings hilarious anecdotes or personal tragedies that make them as human as any one of us?  With no bookstores where will all the signings be?  If publishers no longer have reasons to publish actual books, what will our libraries look like?  What will I read my kids in bed? A computer?  That just doesn’t have the same snuggly, heartwarming ring to it.  “Here kids!  Snuggle around!  I am going to read The Lorax today on my laptop to you!  I hope you are excited and really get the gist of the story as I hit buttons to turn the pages for you!”

I guess it will work for so many people I know, it just isn’t going to work for me.  I will be that lady in town everyone will point and laugh at as I go into the last remaining used book store that exists and stock up on everything I can find.  I will do my part to keep them open, can we all try to as well?  For me?  For all the other book junkies out there who just can’t imagine having an e-reader signed by my dearest and most favorite muses of inspiration?

Pretty please?

Not to mention the meditative practice it is to go to an actual bookstore, on a Sunday afternoon, while the kids are home with Daddy, a latte in hand, to peruse the isles, pick up things that look interesting to you even if a friend hasn’t actually recommended it, or it hasn’t shown up on some ‘list’.  It can be a great act of faith to judge a book by its actual cover, by a photo that moves you, or a subtitle that speaks to something you have experienced.  It can get you out of your typical genre when you see a book laying out on display that you had never even heard of, pick it up and feel the weight of that authors efforts in your hand.

Ok, I will jump of my high in the sky soapbox for today, but my heart wants to explain what books mean to me to everyone who may not feel the same way. But P.S.  I would need documentation for someone to argue it is better for the environment.  Where do you think all the minerals come from that go into all these said gadgets?  Ask the women in Congo if all those techie gadgets we are using has made it better for them.

Spill it: Ok, let’s have it out.  What are your thoughts on all the techie gadgets that exist to read a book? Are you all for them? (And I will still love you, maybe) Or are you all against them?  Or somewhere in the middle? Do you think there will be effects we have yet to think about?

A Gift For You

I have decided to do something a little crazy today.  I am giving a little gift away.  The idea is to copy this post link to your bookmarks, so that every single time you feel like the biggest slacker, or completely unorganized, or like you must be the worst Mom, most inept home manager, seriously procrastinating goober, like you are stuck in the middle of the tornado that motherhood and running a home is, whether you work or not, you can show yourself this page and remember that YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

This was in my living room yesterday:

the evolving homemaker christmas tree

Notice how only half the tree is actually decorated.  That is because the tree finally died or dried out like two weeks ago and all of the ornaments had slowly fallen off.  That, and my kids were playing ‘fishing’ in the middle of it last week, throwing their fishing lines of string with rocks tied to one end into the tree to see what they could catch.  They only broke one ornament, but many were relegated to the floor during that exercise as well.

I pulled the plug on the lights sometime in the middle of the night two weeks ago.  For some reason, they were coming on from like 11 PM to 6 AM.  Assuming the children moved the timer, we hadn’t actually gotten any enjoyment from the tree in a week or so before that.  Unless you count fishing in a Christmas tree as enjoyable.

This is what it looks like today:

Chirstmas Tree The Evolving Homemaker

This Mom is doing the clasped hands shaking above the shoulders, including roars from the crowd in her head, for this achievement.   The thing still looks surprisingly good, but I can promise the needles are a tad on the dry side.  I think it was January 2nd the last time I watered it.

So there you have it people.  You are not as lame as you think you are.  And whenever you think that you are, you can come back here and see for a fact that there is a lamer person on the planet than you.  Take pride in that.  It is my gift to you, because on January 27, 2011 there is still a Christmas tree standing in the corner of my living room.

And as a bonus, our lights are outside still on the house too.  We finally unplugged them from the timer last week too.  So now you can only see them during the day, hence avoiding the bright neon nighttime display of slackdom.

Now don’t you feel better?

Spill it: What gifts would you like to share with others who may be struggling at this moment with distinct feelings of incompetence?  Do you have any gems to share with someone who may need a boost today?

Can We Just Quit With The Opinions? Please?

First, you must watch this video here. Then, only then, can you read on.

Amy Chau’s book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is all the rage on the internet today.  Curious, I watched the above video and all I could think about was how irritated I continue to be about people having opinions about parenting.

I have not read the book, and I don’t intend to now.  I think what caught my attention was this Mom being slammed about her parenting style, then another Mom in the video also being slammed because she had said in an article that she loved her husband more than her kids.

Here is the problem.  There is too much parenting information.  I feel tremendous pressure constantly due to the fact there is an abundance of opinions and ‘must do’ ideas in books, on the internet, by well intentioned mothers at gymnastics class, myself sometimes included in that irritating bunch.  Am I being nice enough, strict enough, loving enough, feeding enough health food, not restricted too much junk food, are they getting educated enough, having enough quality time, am I too lenient, not lenient enough, I yell too much, I am too much a softy, do they take too many classes, or not enough, is there self esteem good or waivering….on and on and on and on.

Because of it I spend much of my parenting life guilt ridden.  Constantly reminding myself how and why I don’t hold up to some ideal parenting image.

It is time to put an end to parenting opinions.

I don’t need your opinion. I am doing the best I can.

I am sure you don’t need my opinion.  You are doing the best you can.

Let’s stop slamming each other based on slight information and start supporting each other instead.  I am actually certain that if parents in this age had more support, we could all be better.  Instead what we get are emotional opinions and ‘experts’ thrown at us from every angle.  Can’t I just be free to share my experience without judgment?

Can’t these Mom’s be free to share their experience without the wrath of the rest of us and our own insecurities about our own methods crashing down on them?  Read all the parenting stuff you want with a grain of salt.  Here is the reality:

THERE IS NO PERFECT PARENT.  THERE IS NO PERFECT PARENTING STYLE.  SAVE PERFECTION FOR HOW YOU LOVE YOUR CHILDREN, PERFECTLY.

We are all on a journey, none of us have this parenting thing down pat.  Dear God, does not ONE of us have this thing down pat.  So let’s stop.  Stop judging.  Stop the snide remarks.  Stop the superiority complexes.  Stop hate comments on websites because the parenting style of someone doesn’t jive with yours.  Culturally you probably have no idea.

Death threats?  Please.  Is that how you show what a good parent you are?  Leading by example?  You are wanting your children to grow up with THAT as their methods for dealing with something they don’t agree with.

Wow.

Spill it: Have you heard about this controversy yet?  How do you feel?  What about too much information?  Does it affect your parenting?  Do you feel like it is hard to trust your own instincts because of what you read or societies opinion of what you ‘should’ do?

Good Enough

What is good enough anyway? Who gets to decide?

This has obviously been a busy week for me (the absence of blog posts being the first clue), the Outcry for Congo campaign is taking a bit of my time, as are all the normal things that are expected of a mother to complete, and be, and do. But last night it began to get the best of me.

I was on the treadmill, slogging my way through yet another injury, but swearing I wouldn’t let myself give up over it yet again.  As you begin to pack on miles to your out of shape self, your mind can tend to wander just to get away from what your body is feeling.

I realized I was profusely beating myself up for not being everything my husband wishes I was.  I was also running the tape recorder over how I can’t seem to eat healthy enough to fuel my treadmill escapades.  I was feeling guilty over not practicing my drum the whole week, with class in less than 45 minutes.  Oh, and guilty still about not getting to the little pant ‘repair’ my friend had asked of me, who would be at said drum class.  I still haven’t ordered Christmas presents and shipped the ones that need to travel.  I was definitely feeling the pain of letting myself down for my entire life of NOT following an exercise routine.  I questioned repeatedly why I couldn’t be better at so many things.  Why I couldn’t organize my time better.  Why I couldn’t get to everything in a day.  Why does it feel so much like I am constantly NOT living up to everyone’s expectations…including my own?

Then I was reminded of a moment in line at the Starbucks drive-thru on Monday morning.  There I was, hating myself for being there cause I know the frustration it causes the hubby.  He had just bought himself an espresso machine for Christmas for goodness sake, and it was sitting on our counter.  (Of course, if I am in the drive-thru of Starbucks it usually means I am completely out of time and making an espresso at home was out of the question) I was wishing I could be more organized to get up earlier, get the kids ready on time, BE on time anywhere, have healthy prepared muffins in the tiny ass freezer we have so that at a moments notice we would always have delicious healthy breakfasts that the kids would devour and praise me for the delicious creation, even on the ONE day a week we have to get up early and out of the house and to ‘school’.

Except here I was, buying non-organic coffee and hormone laden milk, which causes me worries.  I was buying food that was not a nutritious start for my kiddos.  I was feeling guilty for my husband.  I was feeling guilty for the environment that such mass produced concoctions deplete in cups alone.  I just wanted to be doing better all around, I wanted to be perfect, so the nagging feeling of complete incompetence would just go away.

Then I laughed.

Loud.

A good belly chuckle.  It just came out, with the drive-thru window wide open I said, “Oh Mama” and in a moment realized all the things that I get right.  In all the ways I try to do the best that I can.  The many days in which my best is toatally good enough.  And for that moment, the realization that I do the best that I can given my circumstances on most days regardless of the beating I try to give myself was a ray of hope.

Hope that one day I will give myself the credit I deserve, instead of giving a hill a beans about what the world around me is thinking.

I am good enough today. And so are you.

Spill it: How often do you find yourself feeling like you are NOT good enough?  Good enough wife?  Good enough employee?  Good enough Mom?  Good enough Dad?  How do you get out of the rut those feelings create?

Keeping It Real

My knee hurts.

My mind is in Washington, DC this week.

My kids need to be schooled still today.

I need to post my photos for today to the Facebook page Outcry for Congo.

I need to meet a friend who is going to help that painful knee go away.

I need to read a book due at the library in three days, I am on page like 60.

I need to clean the house.

I need to declutter the house.

I need to order Christmas presents I swore would be done the day after Thanksgiving.

I should be making some $$ for our house.

I want to be playing with the kids. Coloring. Reading books.

I need to get a blog post up.

I feel like Gumby really.  Like every item here has an arm, a leg, a head, my body, and is pulling, pulling, pulling.  I can’t do anything exactly well, because everything is pleading for my attention at once.  This is the one crazy downfall of the way my brain works.  I HATE unfinished items on the to-do list.

Reality?  There are always unfinished items on the to-do list.

I am never going to finish the list.  There will be more tomorrow:

Post pictures to Outcry for Congo-day 3.

Educate the children.

Prepare for Christmas and relatives.

Figure out what the hell the hubby will be getting in his stocking this year.

Clean again.

Start a new round of laundry.

Read.

Excercise.

Plan next years garden.

Start on that greenhouse.

Oh yeah, sew that project that has been sitting on your sewing table for like a month now.

And while your at it, sew up your friends pant holes who asked if you wouldn’t mind.

Practice djembe, cause you stunk last week.

Begin planning Run for Congo Women.

Don’t forget the book you are working on, get to that too.

Play. Be Present.  Relish the little people.

Oy. I always have loved the color green. I just don’t like the guilt that goes with it.

I will get to every item in it’s own time.  I just have to remember that some are more pressing than others.  Some more serious.  Some can wait indefinitely.  Deep breath.  Feel my feet.  Come back into my body and out of my brain. Don’t panic.

I feel much better, thanks for listening.

Spill it: Who else is overwhelmed right now with so very seemingly non-crisis things?  Is it just the holidays? Or is it just me?

Mother: Caring Our Way Out Of the Population Problem

It Is Present Time…Oh Dear God…

Except, not this year.

Every year, I make the intention that I am going to be creative for Christmas and everyone I know will receive some lovely, handmade, crafted, cooked, off the beaten path wonder.  Yet, every single year I put the actual ‘making’ of said items off until the last moment, and then race around doing the store dash along with everyone else.

To make matters worse, I spend countless hours deciding on what to get for my kids.  I search high and low for things I think they will like, some plastic crudola, some from the Montessori catalog, and some that come highly ‘recommended’.  And guess what?  The kids spend all year letting dust gather on those things I was sure they would spend days playing with, while they pull blankets out of our closet and boxes out of the recycle bin and play with THOSE.

It can all drive a Momma friggin’ crazy.

So due to the circumstance surrounding my year, here is the post on such, and the reality of children, my expectations, their expectations, time available etc, I have decided to make my life a lot easier this year.

I AM MAKING NOTHING.

Hear that everyone!?

I AM NOT STRESSING MYSELF OUT WITH GREEN AND RESPONSIBLE ONLY PURCHASES!

They don’t always exist.

I HAVE RELEASED MYSELF FROM KID-KID EXCHANGES!

And planned a quality time gathering instead.

INSTEAD OF TOYS, OR SMART GAMES, OR THINGS I THINK WILL MAKE THEM SMARTER, THE KIDS ARE GETTING THINGS THEY NEED FOR THEIR NEW ROOMS!

I won’t hate myself for buying stuff they will never use…a desk, they will.  A chair, they will sit their butt in too…

SANTA WILL BRING THINGS MADE IN CHINA!

Lego’s and pink will abound.

I AM DOING SIMPLE GIFTS OF PHOTOS FOR ALL THOSE TEENS ON MY LIST AND FAMILY MEMBERS!

No electronic gadgets or gift cards.

I AM GOING TO BE DONE WITH ALL OF IT BY THIS WEEKEND!

I don’t want it to drag throughout the entire season.

INSTEAD OF ALL THE STRESS OF PAST HOLIDAYS, I AM GOING TO SPEND THE SEASON WITH MY BABIES.

And I am going to enjoy all the small moments with them.  I am going to watch the magic of the holiday reflected to me in their faces, the wonder of it all in their eyes. We are going to have lots of hot chocolate and candy canes.  We are going to go to parades and lighting ceremonies and The Nutcracker all dressed to the nines.  We are going to read Christmas stories and snuggle under blankets.  We are going to do crafts I always want to do, but never have the time or energy to add to the holiday.

I am going to cry at the beauty of it all, cause I always do.

I am going to remember time with them isn’t infinite.

I am going to remember I am blessed.

This year, I am going to give my kids the gift of their Mom.

Spill it: Do you find present purchasing frustrating?  After so much time planning the gifts for your kids, do they actually play with the stuff?  Do you ever wish you could get moments back once the holidays are over? How much do you love watching holiday joy in the eyes of your babes?

Can You Say R.U.T?

Lately I have been feeling a bit, blah.

Blah might be an understatement, I have lacked motivation for anything really, feel totally zoned, I go through my days with the kids sort of ‘checked out’ instead of checked in.  I start to feel this way and run to the ice cream and cookies and Starbucks, as if  my booty is on fire and I can’t get away from it. I feel bored, melancholy, and frustrated over the whole thing, cause really, what in the hell do I have to complain about anyway?

Sometimes though why do dishes when there is just going to be more?  Why clean AGAIN, when the kids will just mess up the room I am not in?  Why do laundry while the piles seem to grow larger while I swear I am actually making progress?  Why write on a blog that not many people seem to find entertaining…or have just not found yet?  (That is a whole other line of work) Why get dressed if we aren’t even going anywhere today?  Why try to sew?  Cause lord knows I won’t be able to fit the whole project in in one sitting.  Same goes for knitting.  Why cook?  The food is gone after, and guess what?  I just have to do it all over again in three hours, with snacks in between. Why exercise, when I know full well that any new regiment won’t last long, and I will probably eat some sugar laden delicacy later that will never lead me to looking like those 12 year old models they use in women’s magazines these days anyway.  (OK, maybe they are 15, but they are not much older than that)

What is so funny is that just last night a friend of mine and I were talking about getting kids to do things they don’t want to do.  She was saying how she was reading that using a chart with a reward when they get a certain number seems to work really well.  I was saying how I read that rewarding kids with M & M’s or toys or any other means in which they might get excited about, takes away the internal motivation from getting a task done. They come to expect a reward for everything they do instead of understanding that it just IS what we do.

Now, this morning, as I began to write my dreary post about being in a rut, I realized that maybe, just maybe, it was I that needed to find some internal motivation.  How on earth am I supposed to teach my kids about doing what is right if I completely lack the motivation to do it myself?

I literally did not realize how poignant that discussion was for ME, until I sat down to type this.  So today, I am going to find some internal motivation.  We are going to ditch sitting in the house most of the day, and go for a bike ride I have been promising instead.  I will motivate myself with the knowledge that I know I will feel better after we are done.

And then I will motivate myself to make school much more exciting and interesting than it has been, teaching out of textbooks is so…boring for all.  And then I will clean the house, not because it is dirty, but because I FEEL so much better when it is clean.  And then I will start that sewing project I have been wanting to get to, not because I have to, cause I don’t, but because it will give my creativity an outlet.  I will in the next few days get to actually complete something that won’t have to be done again, every single day, I will have a personal sense of accomplishment that no one can take away.

Internal motivation.

Hmmm.

Maybe us grown-ups need that just as often as our kids.  It seems as if we like to pretend like we are grown-ups and all, having everything in order and getting to all we need to, cause we know that kids learn by watching more than by what we say.  Except when we don’t have it all together, and we too need to reach deep inside and find out for ourselves what and why we need to keep on going, one foot in front of another, day after day.

Spill it: Do you find that you spend a lot of time teaching your kids lessons you need to learn yourself?  Do you think internal motivation is sometimes hard to come by?  Or is it easy peasy for you?

Who? Who?

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.

the evolving homemaker dissecting owl pellets

dissecting owl pellets the evolving homemaker

inside an owl pellet image

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?

Mindful Monday 9.28

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?

The Lighting Of A Fire

Whether you homeschool or not, we are all teachers to our own children in countless ways everyday, this video made me want to do better.  Raising our children shouldn’t be with the aim of getting them a good job when they leave us, but giving them the opportunity for an amazingly rewarding life that is deeply lived.

Take a look.

Spill it: What stood out most to you in this video?  Do you often think about the values your kids are learning from you in so many subtle ways?  I can promise, that type of learning slips under my radar often!

I’m Late, I’m Late, I’m Late

And not that kind of late either people.  No more early babies in this house!

But, I got a few chuckles at Dancenastics this morning…without even actually fishing for them.  Just tellin’ it like it is.

We were five minutes late to my four year old’s class again this morning.  I set my purse down on the chair and said to my daughter, “Hurry up inside, we are late a.g.a.i.n.”

The other Mom’s gave a little reassuring nod, like they got it and so have been there.  But then I grabbed my hair and said, “At least I showered.”  The grandma sitting in the chair laughed, while another Mom chimed that, “Isn’t it a shame we have to decide between being late and showering?”

But isn’t that often the choice?

I let them know that the shower so was not optional seeing as how I am not sure I would be allowed to stay at gymnastics without having taken the shower.  After all, yesterday I noticed I really needed one, but threw a headband in my hair to try and cover up that need from the rest of the world.

I am a Mom, only the perfect Mom’s who have time to shower and exercise and clean house and educate their babies and go through all the clutter in the house, had even noticed my dreadful state.  Oh wait, there are no such things as those Moms!  I am in luck.  No one noticed.  And my husband was home late, fairly certain he didn’t notice either, I was already in pj’s reading a magazine bedspread pulled up as high as it would go.

I then let everyone know I was headed out to look for the dance ‘skirt’ that the little girl insisted I try to find in the car.  Yes, my car was that bad, that if a little girls pink dance skirt was in it, I actually needed to look under other items to even find it.

More giggles of amusement sounded throughout the building.

As I left the gym, there was another Mom with one little gal in tow heading out too.  I said, “And here I go, trying to find a tiny skirt in what is my car.”

She laughed replying, “I only have one and I so get it.”

Maybe we should all be more honest at such events? Maybe if we shared the actual realities of our days we would feel so much less like a failure!  After all, my disorganized morning self gave a bunch of ladies and a grandma a really good early morning laugh.  We all were nodding in a secret understanding, an understanding only mother’s could share.  Truly.

Husbands get showers.

I am so not afraid of people seeing me anymore.  This is my life.  I like my life, even if sometimes I don’t get a shower and we are five minutes late when I am aware that it can’t be put off any longer, and sometimes seem completely crazed and anxious and in a hurry.  I may look like a tornado, but  I get to sit and watch my daughter as she explores who she is and how strong of a girl she is; her confidence growing with every leap.  I wouldn’t change a thing.

And tomorrow I will be rushing off to Pre-engineering Lego Building to watch the little boy do the same…

I can promise I won’t have showered before that either.

Spill it: What moments of all knowing have you shared with other Mom’s?  Was it a day you pulled one of your kids out of their car seat only to have a avalanche of Starbucks cups follow them out?  Or was it the day you spent in the library with peanut butter filling from a Lindor Ball on your shirt, trying to cover the spot with a book the whole time as you talked to all of your kids friends parents?  PLEASE do share…I am almost peeing my pants typing these stories from my own life, so I want to pee over yours!

Parental Judgment

Is it parental judgment or parental frustration that we get so annoyed with other peoples kids?

When I came across this article this morning titled Message to Parents Getting Louder:  No Screaming Babies Allowed, I was sorta flabbergasted and laughing.  Yes, kids can be challenging to be around when you don’t have any, but most people will one day.  And I would like to see any company financially survive a ban on kids.

People in the comments section of the article were blaming parents for being too checked out and ignoring their obnoxious little people.  As if these people were perfect little angels all the time when they were children.  It is shocking how many people are for such things as banning kids, can’t wait for them to be in the nursing home circuit while the kids they were annoyed by are running things.

Are we just getting awfully grumpy in society today?  Do we have little patience for the people in our lives and especially little patience for the people not in our immediate lives?

I thought I was above these sort of judgments of course.  We often all think we aren’t like that.

Then I went to an party.  That had lots and lots and lots of kiddos in attendance.

I got frustrated I tell you.   And I might seem like an overprotective nincompoop.  I am not,  I will fight for your kids too if I see injustice. (Well I am overprotective, but because I love my babies and you can’t fault me for loving my babies)

But here is what gets my goat, a group of kids, whether at a party a park a play date are left to their own devices.  Everyone seems to stop paying attention to their kids and lets them run willy-nilly when other kids appear.

I get it.  Many times on play dates I will let my kids know that I am talking to the grown up now and I will be with them in a minute.  Play dates are for Mom’s as much as they are for kids, no matter what anyone says otherwise.  But it is usually me and one Mom.  I can hear or see any crisis or extreme misbehavior as it happens.

So often at outings, or groups, kids are rude.  They push in front of each other, they find one kid to pick on and start doing just that in very subtle ways, sometimes not so subtle and there is an all out fight.  But there is nobody there as far as the eye can see to look at these little people and let them know that that treatment of their friends is entirely unacceptable.

Um…if we aren’t letting our kids know that what they are doing is wrong…who are we hoping is going to do that?

Are we hoping that their peers will say, “Hey, don’t push that kid out of the way!  It is his turn!”

I may have been judging for a moment, but I am not dumb, parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done and assume that is the case with every parent.  I think more it is sheer frustration.  It does take a village to raise kids, and not just directly to help us raise our own kids, like a babysitter or two that you might have available, but to be examples to our kids.  One kid to another.

I don’t want my kids to be bullies, the world has enough grown-up bullies in it running the joint.  Our kids will one day be the ones running the world.  Shouldn’t we help them to understand how we treat people?  Or should we leave them on their own to learn from other little kids who hit and push and bully how they should behave?

The way they will run the world starts with what they learn on the playground.

Trust me, I am no way near to being a perfect Mom.  I wouldn’t bother making such a ludicrous and far from the truth statement.  My kids annoy me some days.  Mostly it is the fighting between them that really gets under my skin, which includes hitting and pushing, which for some reason they never seem to bring to play with friends.  And don’t get me started on the status of their room, a tornado would actually help it out a little.

Am I judgmental?  Often, yet I am trying to work on that.

Am I frustrated? Yes.  I am tired of being the one standing there responding to your kids behavior while you relax and enjoy yourself.

Spill it: So am I a bitch?  Don’t tell me, I am very sensitive to such things.  What are your thoughts?  (Besides my bitchy-ness)

It Will Get Easier

It will get easier.

That is what my Mom kept saying as I went through the trials and tribulations of having small children.

It will get easier.

It sounds so good, that I truly expected it would happen at any time.  One morning I would wake up and motherhood would just be easier.  I wouldn’t worry about my decisions.  (As if my own mother doesn’t still have doubts) My kids would be constant joys to be around. (As if I am a joy to be around every single day)  One day they would stop fighting incessantly.  (Yet, when I was six, I have the distinct memory of my teen sisters having food fights up and down the hallway of my mother’s house after the divorce.  Eggs, butter, anything and everything would be unloaded from the refrigerator and hurled down the hallway toward the bathroom and speeds which might have broken the sound barrier)

It doesn’t happen.

It doesn’t become easier.

My Mom totally lied.

This vacation I am spending with a tween and two teens.

It is harder.

The worries for them more serious, with longer lasting consequences.

The mood swings even more unexpected.

The sassiness, even more sharp.

Don’t get me wrong, they are good kids.  Great kids in fact.

But easier?

No.

Maybe as Mom’s we, by that I mean me, need to learn to love the moment we are in.  Wherever that is.  It will never get easier…just different.  Parenting is already a rip your heart out every single day experience.  Why would we, I mean me, expect that to change when diapers are no longer, or sleep comes easier, or tantrums go from withering, crying, whining, heaps on the floor to full out games of Risk with food involved?

In all reality, parenting just ‘is’.  It is up to us to make it easier on ourselves, not them.  Maybe it becomes easier when we stop taking it so seriously.  Maybe it becomes easier when we begin to trust ourselves instead of the voices of the outer world.  Maybe it becomes easier when we are expecting less of ourselves and realize it isn’t a crisis if a load of laundry doesn’t get in, dinner is take out, we need a rest and actually take one, or that one hour of T.V. won’t actually fry their brain.  Whoa.  And the world isn’t actually going to end if the days blog post doesn’t make it up.

Maybe I am the one that makes it hard on myself.   Maybe, just maybe, they don’t really have anything to do with it.

Spill it: Do you make it hard on yourself sometimes or am I alone here?  Where do you hold yourself to way to high of standards?  Do you find parenting getting easier?  Or is it just less hands on?

What’s Your Intention?

Do you remember the dude in Pretty Woman who walked around L.A. saying “What’s your dream?”   For some reason that line goes through my head often.  Today though, I ask “What’s your intention?”

I was struck last week by the editor’s letter in Get Born MagazineGet Born is a locally produced, mother run, uncensored voice of motherhood.  I love this magazine.  Why?  Because I am tired of lying.  And I am tired of parenting and mothering magazines that promote unachievable perfectionism.  They are full of articles with advice on how to organize a play date or buy the perfect natural toys to satisfy your Christmas list.

What they don’t talk about is why I often feel completely inadequate as a mother.  Why if I yell at my kids out of frustration, I am riddled by guilt for the rest of the day wondering how on earth they chose me as a mother.  They never discuss whether other Mom’s are feeling the exact same way as me, whether they are insecure, frustrated, angry, or question themselves at all.

Get Born has all that and more.  It is motherhood in the raw.  I need that.

Heather Janssen, editor in chief, wrote her intro piece to the summer issue titled Finding Your Voice on intention.  As I read it, I was struck at how another Mom could articulate me so well, when her aim was to articulate herself.  Instead of selling coiffed kids, she sold me truth, truth that finding ourselves and staying there once we have found her is plain hard:

“My antidote to this is intention.  When I take time to meditate, to sit still, to take care of myself, I’m much more centered and whole, able to access my voice and let her speak.  I fail miserably at this.  I check my stupid smart phone incessantly, work feverishly and thus inefficiently, and trade peace for frenetic activity far to often.  My writing suffers if it exists at all.  And my voice gets shoved aside in the pursuit of recognition, approval and an escape from the craziness.  During our summer vacation, I listed all my priorities and the barriers standing in the way of living within those priorities.  It was very Franklin-Covey of me.  Nearly all of the barriers involved my addiction to busy-ness.  I suppose there are two voices in my head-the strong one that leads me to calm, cool waters that is only accessed with intention, and the weak, terrified one that screams at me encessantly, listing the never-ending “shoulds” that I fail to fulfill, spewing guilt-ridden messages that exhaust me.  One would think that figuring out how to silence the screamer and allow the fierce but kind voice to prevail would be the best priority.  And it is.  So simple, but never easy.”

Is this woman in my head?  Cause it is sort of creepy I tell you.

The last couple months I have been evaluating whether I am living a life that coincides with my values, or a life that rubs up against them like sandpaper, it works, but it doesn’t feel good.   I have made some big decisions, listening to my inner voice rather than the one that rattles around in my head, or listens to others, or stays busy too, just to stay distracted from her truth, or checks email religiously just to find out if she even exists in anyone’s world but her own.

This morning I woke up guilt ridden due to the fact I had said “NO” to a dear friends celebratory party last week so I could go to that retreat at church instead.  The “shoulds” are evidently winning today.

But then I got mad.  Why isn’t it OK to take care of myself?  Why isn’t it OK to find time to be quiet and meditate and find grounding, my voice again, my connection to something bigger than myself, a space to remember who I want to be?  Why do I need to beat myself up because instead of showing up for everyone else, as I do, I showed up for myself?

Two days after my retreat, my shrink cut me loose.  Something had changed.  I knew where I wanted to be going, if not how to get there.  I had stood before my minister, pastor, preacher, whatever the hell he is called, and stated that my intention was, “To learn to remain present and follow my path to inner peace”, as Tibetan bowls were vibrating my entire being.

I am reminded by Heather:

“To hear authentic voices reminds me that I am worth the hard work of intention.  As it turns out, so are you.”

And I wholeheartedly agree, even if I have to train myself to think so.

P.S. If you want raw, unfiltered, uncensored, real, not bullshit motherhood, SUBSCRIBE to Get Born.  You will be glad you did and you will be supporting real Mom’s from all over the U.S. share their voices in a way that actually benefits the motherhood collective with the truth.

Spill It: Are you tired of perfection motherhood?  How do you fall into that trap?  And where have you not listened, and followed, your truth as of late?


Such A Dad

Last Friday was my son’s first ever end of school year picnic.  It started off as any end of school year picnic might.

It was total chaos.

There were so many kids and parents, I could barely keep track of my own amidst the crowd.  We chatted with a few parents, met the new teacher for next year, ate.  We watched the kids sing, play with their friends, and sneak treats from the desert table.

At one point, I headed to the top of an enormous play structure after my 4 year old darling girl.  She headed straight to the top of a two story slide in which a tiny 18 month old creature, she may have been like barely over a year, in a brown and pink dress was standing on the steps.

I said to my daughter, “Be careful of that little girl!” as any good parent would do as their child was pushing their way around another child to slide.  As if the slide were to disappear any moment and this could be their last chance ever on this particular adventure.

The little girls father was standing at the bottom of the stairs and said, “Oh it’s OK, she is just playing.”  My daughter proceeds to plop herself on her bottom and slide down this monstrosity with two full turns and two half turns and heads on down.

The following moments took place in extreme slow motion.  The toddler decides to follow my daughters lead, waddling herself to the top of the stairs, sits herself down and pushes off.

The Dad just stands there.

My eyes are as big as baseballs as I watch this little angel flip around backwards as she came out of the first bend.  She is head, first eyes to the sky, in a mildly frightened stare as she continues down, down, down.  “What if she falls off the end?” I screech to him.

His reply? “There is nothing I can do now.”

Really?

I would have followed her down at first sign that she was headed that way in reverse…really as soon as she left the starting gate, regardless of whether she was feet first, butt first, or head first.  Otherwise I would have scrambled down the side twisty stairs surely breaking my ankle along the way, but in my mind that is one you just take for the team.  If all else was to fail, one could certainly fling themselves over the edge of the playground palooza certain that yes, something big will break, but hey better me than my child.

She made it to the bottom safe and sound.  A bit stunned is not an understatement.  She eventually flipped herself around and toddled off the lip of the slide.

I turned to the Dad and said, “You are SUCH a Dad.  I am standing here having a heart attack and she is not even mine as you stand here calmly!”  I said this all with a smile of course, but I was clutching my shirt in the heart region.

He chuckled mumbling something vague about not being anything else and headed down the side stairs slowly, breaking nothing.

I myself headed back down the ramp from which I came to find my own two rascals off playing in the vast space that is the beginning of a world in which I will never be able to ensure their safety…no matter how much I try.

Spill it: How different have you and your husband handled such things?  Or are you the laid back one and he the worry wort?  

Weekends Stink – For This Mom At Least

I am sitting here after a lunch brought home from Noodles and Co., that I obviously didn’t have to make.  Good right?

I am also sitting on our newly built deck in the back yard, under the shade of an umbrella, on an 85 degree day.  Phenomenal huh?

Then why are my legs shaking, my mind and body full of nervous energy, and my need for a ‘treat’ so heightened?

Because weekends are hard for me.

My whole life I lived for the weekends.  The days off from work that I would sit snuggled in a comfy chair at a coffee shop on a snowy day book in hand, filling my mind with the adventures ‘other’ people were having.  Long lazy summer days I would grab the dog and go for a hike in the hills, the smell of dirt rising off the baking earth mixed with decomposing pine needles the sun had been warming since dawn.

I think today I officially figured out why I fill our weekends with things to do.  I fill them with all kinds of things I need to get done on my own, things the kids would have fun doing, endless birthday parties we reply ‘yes’ to on Evite.

If I don’t fill my weekends with ‘busy’ items…my weekends are exactly like my weekdays.

The same dressing of the little people.  Brushing of their teeth.  Being the referee to every fight that is just waiting around the corner to ensue.  The constant trying to keep them happy so I can get something done.  Corrections of their behavior at every turn, like the dog bowl on the dogs head trick my magician daughter just preformed.  The ever nagging pull of the T.V. that will just take care of it, but I don’t want to use, my son’s behavior is 100 times better when he isn’t watching the tube.  I fix breakfast, I fix lunch (except today), I will fix dinner,do laundry, and clean again and again. Of course , I will inevitable end up sleeping in my daughters bed at midnight if I actually want to get any sleep.

And vacation doesn’t help people, I know what you are thinking.  But on vacation, MY work comes with me.

I love my babies.  More than life itself.  I love my life.  Most of the time. I am fully aware of how incredibly lucky I am.

I just loved my weekends too.

Spill it: Am I totally alone here?  Or are there other Mama’s who feel the same way?  How do you find a moment of peace and quiet in a hectic, kids always into something, life?

We Must Have Known This Time Would Come…

It is here!  Officially launched this past Tuesday!  Here it is parents, the thing you have been demanding for your smaller children.  The thing that will make them more competitive in a technological world.  Are you ready for it?

Social networking for kids.

Take a gander at the article that got my attention on Yahoo here.

Yup.  You read correctly.  There is a new site called Togetherville that is being aimed at the 6-10 age group and now your little angels will be able to join online networking with their other kindergartner friends.  It is being tagged as a safer place for kids to be than on Facebook.  Which although has a minimum age of 13, plenty of kids on there have lied or the grown-up in charge has, to get them accounts.

Aren’t you lucky. And aren’t your children even luckier.

Social networking!

Truthfully, every time technology comes up in my house my husband and I fall at opposite ends of the couch.  He is of the opinion that kids should be monitored yet exposed to computers and technology.  I, the hippie that I am, am of the opinion that they shouldn’t be exposed to working on the computer or God forbid video games until later in childhood.  Ah well, the debate will continue in my world.

Seriously though, social networking?  Do our kindergartner’s really need to know how to social network with other 5 and 6 year olds?  Is that going to give them that leap into the future that will secure them a job?  When did children lose the opportunity to be children in a future obsessed, get ahead society?

In Simplicity Parenting, Kim John Payne quotes psychologist Jane Healy stating that “kids who don’t start using computers until adolescence gain competency within months equal to that of children who’ve used them since they were toddlers.”

“In simplifying screens, you give children time to conjure their own worlds-not just through reading, but in terms of active and imaginary play-before they become passive consumers of entertainment “worlds” and their ancillary products.”  ~Simplicity Parenting

From the end of the article, this is the quote of a woman doing research for Kaiser Family Foundation on children and media:

“From the child’s perspective, I’m not sure what the benefit is,” she wrote in an e-mail message. “Believe me, kids will learn how to use technology and media when the time comes.”  ~Vicky Rideout

From  a TG Daily article Mandeep Singh Dhillon, founder of Togetherville was quoted saying:

“We built Togetherville  using the spirit of the neighborhoods most of us remember when we were kids, where everyone knows everyone else and watches out for each other.”  ~Mandeep Singh Dhillon

Oh yeah, because that is much better than actually playing in the neighborhood like outside in the fresh air and sunshine, while playing with their friends and having  face to face interactions.  God forbid our kids should actually learn how to interact with other kids.   Or pick up roly-polys with their bare hands, or get skinned knees from learning to ride their bikes, or learn to talk to the neighborhood adults like they will need to learn to do.

Maybe we should bring back the ‘old fashion’ neighborhood instead.

Spill it: So, would you have your kids join a social networking site geared to 6-10 year olds?  Why or why not?

Princesses Should Slay Dragons Too

Last weekend, we had my four year old daughters birthday party.  What kind of party did she want?

A princess tea party.

I am by far the last mother on the planet that should be organizing a princess tea party.  Pony ride party?  Much more my speed.  Camping party, I am all about it.  Princesses?

We have a love/hate relationship.

I love that my daughter has something that she enjoys, some quasi imaginative play once in awhile.  She is allowed to live in fantasy for a time, due to the fact reality creeps up on you and slaps you in the face when you are least expecting it.

But I hate that she wants a prince.  I can’t stand that Cinderella had to wait for prince charming to change her life.  She seems to me to be of age in which she could do such.  And Snow White.  Same thing…not to mention some guy comes up behind her with a knife to murder her and bring her heart to the nasty queen.  Huh?  My kiddos are not allowed to watch that one anymore.  By far my favorite is Mulan, but she still has to lie to get into an army that doesn’t allow WOMEN in the first place.

Even Tinkerbell.  You would think Peter Pan was safe for a girls self esteem…but hello, first Tinkerbell gestures that her hips are too wide in a mirror.  Then, Peter Pan is laughing and carrying on while the mermaids fight and douse Wendy with water due to jealousy and Tink tries everything in her power to knock off Wendy!

Again, love/hate here for me.

What is a feminist SAHM of a half princess, half t-ball daughter to do?

We slayed a dragon.

I got a dragon pinata and proceeded to fill it with Hershey Kisses.  I then purchased plastic swords and decorated them with purple ribbons.  Then I let all the little princesses at the damn thing.

While a few people thought I was crazy and silly, a few more laughed and thought it was awesome, “going against the archetypes” as one put it.  I did over hear at the party, “Aren’t the boys supposed to slay the dragon?”

I yelled.

“No, that is the point of this excercise!”

Girls deserve to know that they don’t need a prince to slay their dragon.  They deserve to understand they can do anything that their brothers do.  They are equally entitled to camp trips with Dad as sons are.  They can get muddy, and do math, and be a pitcher on the baseball team.  My daughter wants to be an astronaut this week…and so she shall be.

We, as mothers, can certainly not continue to perpetuate sexist ideals at the expense of our daughters.  So Mama’s get out and slay those dragons, so your daughter will know that she can too.

Spill it: Are you ever surprised at the never ending, underlying, messages to our daughters?  What is the worst message you got as a little girl?  (Mine:  Women were DUMB BROADS)

Will She Be Pretty?

This amazing video was shared by a friend on Facebook last week, and I knew instantly I would spread it here.  Be forewarned, she drops a version of the F*bomb once.  And it is so dang worth it.  I get goosebumps every time I watch it and so will you.

Please view it.  Your daughters will thank you for it…I am sure my little princess will…

Spill it: Are you pretty?  Or are you pretty talented?  Pretty graceful?  Pretty compassionate?  How does all this pretty propaganda in a obsessive culture make you feel?

Becoming A Mother Is Like…

Becoming a mother is like…being in a sailboat race, and you’re in first place, your boat cutting through the wake with ease, heeling on it’s side, white capped wake spreading out behind you, carrying you ever closer to the finish line…until all of a sudden the wind spills out of your sails…

And the momentum is gone…for a moment.

The wind will find you again, but this time you might be in second place.

Motherhood is like that.

First you think you are going to be the best Mom ever.  The entire time you are pregnant.  And you spend countless hours talking with your husband about how great it is going to be, how your lifestyle won’t really be changing at all.  How other parents just must not ‘get it’.  All those adventures you dreamed of, you would just get on with it and bring baby too! Ahhhh, yes.  You are cruising along here, breaking away from the rest of the sailing pack.

Then the early labor leads to three weeks in the NICU, and four months of crying every evening from 6-10.  Your sails slack.  You realize you don’t actually want to go camping with a two month old cause how good could sitting by the fire for three hours really be for your angels lungs, even if the s’mores are so tasty?  And you also grasp reality, that as you have chosen to be a SAHM…the bank account no longer agrees that Paris sounds great for your 35th birthday…

But you adjust your direction a tad, and the wind again is at your back, urging you forward. You come to understand that you love your baby so much, that all those other dreams pale in comparison.  You are so going to win this race after all.

Then you realize, when your first baby is now five, that after a few days of being a pretty good Mom, no yelling, no fighting, no wanting to rip your hair out, and no dreams of moving to a far away exotic locale, you start finding yourself becoming a bit judgmental.  Cocky is more like it.  You see another Mom leaving the grocery store yelling at her child practically in tears and you think to yourself, so self righteously, that it has been quite some time since you behaved in that manner.  You must have finally mastered this thing called Motherhood.

Until the next day of course.  When you will be sucking the wind out of your own sails due to the fact that your kids did something so illogical, to you at least, that you over react in the same tear filled manner your fellow Mom did just the day before.  Then you proceed to berate and guilt yourself into thinking you haven’t mastered shit and you just might be the worst Mom on the planet.

From conception until your death, it never ends.

It is a constant correction, this parenting game…a consistent manning of the helm as you try to do what is best for your kids on any given day.  Even those days you are so not at your best.

There is no chance of actually winning this race.  There are way too many variables, and your boat might actually sink on more than one occasion.  Straight to the bottom of the sea.  But as any captain will do, you won’t let this baby go without a fight.  You will steer your craft with more control and confidence each and every time, guiding your ship into swifter tides.

Again, and again, and again…

P.S. On Mother’s Day, go to www.getbornmag.com/blog for a special message about becoming a mother from editor Heather Janssen AND be entered for FREE, FABULOUS schwag to splurge your fabulous self from participating get born advertisers.  (Sneak peak here, here, and here.)

Mamavism Monday: Mother’s Acting Up

Every Monday I will have information to share about events coming up, groups and non-profits you might be interested in, green ideas to implement, people that are amazing me in their efforts; basically any actions I think will show off  the true range and magnificence of MAMAVISM! It is so important for us to remember small changes make a big difference when done collectively.  Our wallets, our choices, companies we support, ways we reduce at home, all make an impact in the future world our children will inherit from us.

So giddy up!  Let’s take mamavism on the road!

MAMAVISM MONDAY:  MOTHER’S ACTING UP

Mother’s Acting Up.

I can’t think of a better organization to highlight the week of Mother’s Day.

If this is your first introduction into the world of Mother’s Acting Up (MAU), get ready to be inspired.  This is an amazing group of passionate Mama’s started by four ladies who decided that they had a legacy to leave to their children;  a better world.  This legacy would support mother’s in becoming vital players in the future we would collectively be creating for our children and the millions of children around the world.

Juliana Forbes, Joellen Raderstorf, Beth Osnes, and Erica Shafroth noted what was happening in the world around them and took to task a plan to engage mothers, encourage mothers, educate mothers, inspire mothers, and energize mothers to find their voices and take their place in the conversations and decisions that are being made daily on behalf of the world’s children.

I heart Mother’s Acting Up.

Mother’s Acting Up has truly changed my life, and if you let them, they will change yours too.  These passionate, engaged, lovely Mama’s took me on a journey in finding my voice for others who do not have one.  They taught me that what I think does matter, and should be heard and considered by my faithful leaders.  They showed me how to use my voice effectively for change, and remind me often that we are in this together.

Luckily the journey to a better future is not a lonely one.  And Mother’s Acting Up is just the group to pass on to you, that this new world in which the health, well being, education, and joy of children is considered a top priority, is not a path trudged by one, but a trail blazed by many. Many who will bless your spirit with their devotion.

Start ACTING UP today and find out more about Mother’s Acting Up with this little to-do list.  We Mama’s so love to-do lists…

~ Make sure your RSS feed to their daily actions!  Or sign up to get them here.  I really read them every single day!

~ Check out The Moment, a television series created by MAU, based on celebrating the acting up of amazing people…your neighbors really!  Click here and you can watch every episode online!  Lucky you!

~ Donate here.  Because while a movement needs momentum, it needs some $$$ too.

~ Find out if the (M)other Tour one woman show, that you got to glimpse above, is coming to your area and grab your fellow Mama’s and GO!  I have seen it two times and cried both times.  I am a sucker for a passionate, heartwarming call to action!

Spill it: If you are already acting up, share with us your passionate cause!  If you aren’t acting up, why not?  Is it time, money, fear?

The Trouble With Boys

So I am ashamed to admit, instead of reading a book I could indulge in during my trip to Florida, I chose a non-fiction book about boys and how they are fairing in school these days. Leave it to a Mama to skip self pampering in hopes of better understanding why her son may not be as enthused about school as she wishes he was.

It is what we do.

Funny though, as I was packing and listening to my sister on the phone telling me how she didn’t know what to wear, all I could think was, “How am I ever going to decide which books to bring?”  All of my clothes I stuffed into a backpack as to avoid the extra fees bags garner these days, and I turned my attention instead to reading the backs of books, seeing which ones I could slide alongside the clothes, and how many I could cram into my purse…just in case…

The Trouble With Boys:  A Surprising Report Card on Our Sons, Their Problems in School, and What Parents and Educators Must Do by Peg Tyre, I grabbed at the last minute, shoving it into my purse next to two other ‘must haves’, as I was racing out the door, and lo and behold it was the one I read.

The book stunk.  Well sort of.

While I appreciated all of the information about why school isn’t supporting our sons, why they might get bored, check out, loose their motivation very early on in their education careers, think it is ‘for girls’, lack organizational skills, not be able to sit still, get behind in reading and writing never to recover, etc. what I was really looking for is how I can help my son avoid those pitfalls.

Unfortunately we don’t get to those things until the end of the book in the last chapter and really, there isn’t much useful information there to help parents who are already seeing their sons less than enthusiastic demeanor toward school.  I have spent years reading about why some schools aren’t necessarily nurturing our children and our sons.  I know most of the down sides to education so many of the ‘experts’ point to, but what I was really hoping for was some ideas and skills to use with my son to bring an excitement for learning to his world while he still attended an institution of learning.

This book was not that.

I do think it is important information for anyone unsure why boys are lagging behind these days in school, what school expectations do for boys who have to move, what impact that will have in the long term on them and our society at large, how lack of boys success in school is also affecting our daughters, and the realities of college campuses having more girls than boys getting admitted and staying four years.

As our society is moving away from manufacturing, shipping many jobs offshore that don’t require a college degree, will there be enough jobs to absorb an ever increasing number of boys with a diploma but not a degree?

Only time will tell, but I am certainly one that thinks if my boy is going to sit in the back of the room deciding that school is completely uninteresting and a waste of time, I will give him whatever opportunities he needs to change his mind…cause learning is so damn amazing and it is such a shame that our kids are now looked at as learning machines that will either raise a schools ranking and funding; or lower it…

Some quotes from the book:

~ “To bore a child is as cruel as beating him.”  George Leonard

~ “In too many preschools these days, being a perfectly normal, loud, active boy just isn’t acceptable.”  Kyle Karen

~ “That means that when you send your son off to preschool, he may repeatedly experience things that he finds frustrating, uncomfortable, or alienating.  He may encounter expectations that are so at odds with his natural development that they leave him bewildered and angry.  His preschool experience may plant in him the seed of a bitter weed, which may grow into the conviction that formal education is simply not for him.  Instead of fostering a love of learning, his days in preschool may shake his confidence to the core.”

~ “College has long been the ticket into the middle class, but never before has the differential between the income of high school graduates and college graduates been so stark.  Back in 1979, the income of a person with a bachelor’s degree was roughly 50 percent higher than the income of that person’s peers who had only a high school diploma.  By 2004, that income difference had widened to 96 percent.”

~ “She knows that what parents of struggling boys fear is, in fact, coming to pass.  Boys who are unenthusiastic about elementary school, who grit their teeth through middle school, and float along under the radar in high school grow up to become lackluster college applicants-students with mediocre grades, no leadership skills, and no strong interests.  They are, compared to girls, ill prepared for the challenges of college, and most will be unable to perform college-level work.”

Spill it: Are you concerned about the education your kids will receive at this time in our evolving education history?  Or are you satisfied with the current trend in education?  If you are a worrier, do you worry about your daughter’s or sons more?  Or both?

About That Schedule…

Yeah.

Remember how last week I was all in a tizzy due to the fact that my life was this never ending flow of dishes, laundry, and racing from here to there?

Well, that night I did do a schedule.  I worked diligently for about an hour, figuring out my way through Excel, code highlighting words in different colors, setting up time for alarms, exercise, spending quality time with the kids, doing their supplemental school work, reading books, reading or writing for me, play-dates for all of us, eating dinner and time to actually cook it. As I started to add things to my little color coded piece of heaven, I began to notice something I hadn’t counted on…

The painful reality is there just isn’t enough time in a day to get it all done.  Literally.  Not just because I couldn’t get to ‘it’, whatever ‘it’ is, but because there is literally not enough room on the damn spreadsheet to fit in all the to-do’s.  Color coded or not.

No wonder there is a problem and I always feel like a dog chasing its tail.  Because I am a dog chasing my tail.

I feel surprisingly grateful for the turn that little project took.  If I had been able to fit every last tidbit into every single day, then I would have felt like I had been a miserable failure all along.  But since I spent some focused time trying to add bit here and there that I had forgotten about in the original spreadsheet, I slowly became keenly aware that my expectations of myself, my children, what we can possible achieve, what I can be expected to achieve, our should’s and want’s were really just too much.

Just. Too. Much.

I know people who do run around all day at top speed, on top of everything, getting their entire list of to-do’s checked off, errands done, dinner made, etc. etc.  But that sort of break neck speed just isn’t my personality, nor do I want to it to be.  I like to have some free flow, some down time, who am I kidding…I need the down time, time to read, time to explore and invest in myself as much as my family.

I will still use my schedule, but as a template, not a golden rule.  I still need the direction and list of reminders about things that need to get done I might forget, my Kindergartner’s reading lessons for example.  And  boy do I need a visual cue about those tasks I at least try to put off as long as humanly possible, the treadmill for example…

Do I have any answers?

Yes.  It is impossible for me to do it all. And that should be OK too.

What does that mean for you?

Stop beating yourself up for not getting to it all.

And hey, I find this little experiment a complete success.  Sometimes when we set out on our grandiose endeavors, it is actually quite liberating when they don’t work out as we had initially planned!

Spill it: What endeavors have you failed miserably in and actually appreciated that failure more than a success would have been in that instance?

Oh My Goddess

I am reading a book called Goddess to the Core, by Sierra Bender, right now and I love it.  It is feminine power at its greatest, a celebration of the Goddess within us all and the importance of paying homage to all areas of our life.  You can find it in the Yoga Fitness section, but it goes far beyond poses.  Weaving together our lives as women, our collective memory, our spirit and intuition, with some mental exercises and poses for your physical body and what they aim to relieve.

It has been a serious reminder to me of my inner essence that gets shuffled and muted and put to the bottom of the to-do list, rarely getting out to breathe.  This book needs its own category at the bookstore…The Goddess.  Yes, one day we must insist that they do have that section, and there needs to be a lot of books in it!

On page 30 of the book she shares this little diddy from Housekeeping Monthly, May 13, 1955:

“A good wife always knows her place.  Don’t complain if he is late or dinner or even if he stays out all night.  Count this as  minor compared to what he might have gone through that day. Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes.  Speak in a low, soothing, and pleasant voice.  Don’t ever ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity.  Remember:  he is the master of the house, and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness.  You have no right to question him.  Listen to him.  You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time.  Let him talk first-remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.”

Hmm…is that so?

Women have come a long way since then, but I can’t help but wonder if there are still traces of this enlightening little paragraph in our lives today.  After all, I clearly remember the moment that I found out that a man  had actually made more an hour than I did in the exact same position, a job that I literally busted my ass at every single day.

But what about at home?

Last week I joined a Facebook group called ‘It Isn’t Babysitting if They are Your Own Children’ because I couldn’t stop laughing my little booty off at the reality of so many Mom’s I know expressing this same frustration!  Obviously, there are still a few areas we have room to improve.

But honestly, I do wonder in what ways the above propaganda still has lingering effects for me.  My Grandmother would have raised my Mom in the era that this magazine was published.  That would have been the message of the day, just like we have the messages of today like ‘Mommy Balance’.  (You know, that seemingly unattainable goal that we are all supposed to achieve.)

My Mom would have grown up and seen motherhood through this lens.  Although the political and family climate might have been in the process of change, it is undeniable that she would have lived out some of those above quoted expectations.  In fact I know she did.  My mother learned them from her Mom, just as my eyes and ears and heart watched and learned from her.

Obviously, I am not that gal quoted above.  ha.  ha. ha.  hA. HA. HAHAHAHAHAHA….ohhh…ha.  Yeah, not so much.  But in all reality, there are probably whispers of these old adages swirling around the cells of my body.  Passed down from generation to generation, not deliberately and outright, but in so many subtle and unspoken ways.

I can see it.  Not as blatantly as the description of the expectations in Housekeeping Monthly, circa 1955, but sadly enough I can see subtle behaviors in myself that would have a lifeline directly back to the worldview of that day.  Scary for a proud feminist that would cringe at the thought of passing such things on to her own daughter.

It seems to me, like we just might be still carrying the collective scars of the women that have gone before us on this journey of motherhood, and in so many ways we might not ever fully understand. ..whether we like it or not.

Spill it: In what ways might there still be remnants of motherhood in the past that you actually see in yourself?  Behaviors you might have missed without closer inspection?


About Me

I am a stay at home, homeschooling Mama of two, 5 and 7, trying to live simply, craft simply, write simply, cook simply, all the while trying to remain present and mindful as chaos ensues.

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