Category Archives: life

April 30, 2012 · 8:09 AM

Walking On Egg Shells

I hate the internet.  I mean, I love the internet.  But sometimes… I really hate it.  That has never been more true than it has the past couple of weeks.  I guess maybe I shouldn’t admit that, being a blogger, but there it is.  And it’s kind of the crux of my whole point today:  The things I shouldn’t say.

A few days ago, I saw a video going around Facebook.  It was a home video of a dad and his three kids singing Bohemian Rhapsody in their car.  We’re big Queen fans around here so I thought it was cute.  I was about to share to it, when I started skimming through some of the negative comments.  First there was horror that one of the little girls was sitting in the front seat.  Then there was something about the toddlers strap on his car seat.  That was all followed up with “What an inappropriate song to be singing with your kids!”   I thought about my own page, and how I’ve seen the same kind of comments on even the most innocuous seeming posts.  I didn’t really feel like getting into a lengthy and exhausting “thing” over a silly video.

So I didn’t share it.

And the more I thought about it, the more ticked off (at myself!) I felt.  I was really irritated that I wouldn’t post something that I liked, on my page, just because I knew there’d be negative reactions.  But the truth is, I’ve grown tired.

Lately there has been a barrage of videos, articles, and other posts about discipline that I’ve strongly disagreed with.  I have to really weigh whether I want to opine on them though, because doing so always gets me called judgemental.  And critical.  And hypocritical.  And why can’t I just “support other parents no matter how they do things?”    That goes doubly for when I talk about spanking.  Or crying it out.  Or dads shooting their daughter’s laptops.

I can’t express my opinions about schools either, because apparently that’s not fair to teachers (and the fact that I’ve never had a disparaging thing to say about teachers is of little consequence)

I have to be careful about writing too many happy, good-day stories about the kids, because those always invite the snarky, “Oh it must be so nice to have such a perfect life” comments.

I can’t write too many downer posts either, because those bring the admonishments to get over myself and Just Focus On The Positive.

When Kirk Cameron made his remarks about homosexuality recently, I was shushed before I even began to give an opinion.  (I disagreed with him, for whatever it’s worth)  I couldn’t say it though, without getting screamed at about how unfair I was being, and how mean it was, and how he was being unnecessarily bullied.   Besides, I was told, it was too controversial of a topic anyway.  It would alienate too many readers.     I should stick to writing about parenting (as long as I’m not being judgemental) or homeschooling (as long as I don’t mention school) or stories about my kids (as long as they’re not too happy.  Or too sad.)

I don’t like walking on egg shells.  Or writing on them, as it were.  I can’t write my blog to please other people.   I learned a long time ago that living your life to try to please others is a painful lesson in futility anyway.   I don’t want this space to become some watered down version of itself simply because it’s more comfortable.  I ultimately started it for myself, and while I’m very thankful that a few people seemed to read it and pay attention, at the end of the day I’d rather have a blog that’s authentic and read by 10 than a blog that’s “safe” and read by 10,000.

I was recently unfriended and subsequently blocked by a longtime Facebook friend.  I don’t know why.  I’m not welcome or able to contact her to tell her this, but I have to thank her in all sincerity.    Getting dumped as a friend – again – painful though it was, served as an impetus to once again renew my conviction to just be me.    I can’t do anything else.  How people respond to me, to my blog, to the things I share…. that’s their business, not mine.   I will fully admit that I haven’t gotten this blogging thing all figured out yet.  Or this parenting thing.  Or this life thing.  But I can also tell you – promise you even – that what you see here will be real… the good, the bad, the ugly;  whether you agree, disagree, or just don’t care.  It’ll be messy.  That’s real life.  And that’s me.

And to prove it, here’s that Queen video that I convinced myself not to post.  Enjoy it, or not. 🙂

57 Comments

Filed under about me, blogging, Facebook, life, rant, writing

April 27, 2012 · 8:02 AM

Where I Need to Be

“Life goes by pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” ~ Ferris Bueller

One week ago today, we were packing up our hotel room in Chicago.  Saying goodbye to our little four-day getaway, and getting ready to board a plane back to Phoenix.

It was a perfect excursion, one that I hadn’t realized how much I needed.  From the nightly Happy Hours, to the wonderful restaurants, to the walking and touring of the beautiful city… it was a literal breath of fresh air.   Everyone’s asked me what I did every day when Mike was at his conference, and the fact is, I just was.   I walked.  I nursed a huge cup of coffee at Starbucks while I watched all the passers-by.   I did yoga.  I took myself to the movies.  I sat(!)  I took a nap (if like me, you’re unfamiliar with that term, it means to lay down and voluntarily sleep.  On purpose.  In the middle of the day.)  It was an introvert’s dream vacation.  The best part though, was that both when I was alone and when I was with Mike, time just stood still.   There was no where to be, nothing to do, no one who needed us.  For four days, time stood still.

Now that we’re home, there’s no easing back into real life.  As if a switch has been flipped, it’s once again full-speed ahead.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200.  It’s basketball practices and gymnastics classes and park days and cub scouts and physical therapy appointments.   It’s life.   And I’m reminding myself – again – to breathe.  God’s got this.  I’m finding myself having to trust, more than I ever have before, that no matter where I am… whether it’s driving to another appointment, sitting in the bleachers, racing the four year old across the park, running an errand, or swirling around in the housework that just. doesn’t. end… I’m exactly where I need to be.   Right there, in that place, in that moment, in that point in time.

One week from tomorrow, I’ll add another giant helping to my plate when my yoga teacher training starts.   Right now though, I’ll breathe.  I’ll sit.

The house is quiet.  The birds are singing.  I’m exactly where I need to be.

2 Comments

Filed under about me, being happy with what is, life, not sweating the small stuff, perspective, vacation

April 24, 2012 · 9:06 AM

Dreads at 3 Months: Redefining Beauty

My dreads are three months old.  Which means for ninety something days now, I’ve been carrying around these ropy, tangly, matted knots, instead of the long, thick wavy hair that partially defined me for all of my previous 38 years.   And they look, well…  they’re a huge mess.  Their current appearance does not do much to help the opinions of my mom all the people who think that dreadlocks are unkempt or unwashed.  Despite my tender loving care, some days they look a little bit – or a lot – of both.  I feel this overwhelming need to say that out loud, because I can feel the looks.  I can feel the wordless stares.  Not necessarily because I have dreadlocks, but because I have crazy, messy, rebellious teenage dreadlocks.   They’re a mess.  I’m aware.

They are filled with crazy loops and twists and lumps and bumps.  All of which are a normal progression in the journey of dreadlocks (and actually a good sign that they are doing what they are supposed to do), but somehow very different in reality than they were when they were merely hypothetical.   There are things to do to “tame” the loops a little quicker…  there are techniques that involve basically poking and threading with big needles, and/or I could always find a salon that does dread maintenance.

BUT.  And it’s a big but.  I’ve decided to embrace the chaos.

Some of the “maintenance” recommended by certain websites and schools of thought can actually cause a lot of damage.  And the last thing I want is to commit to a long-term hairstyle, only to have them thin and fall out because I didn’t treat them properly!  More than that though, is this linear idea that neat, perfect and uniform = beautiful.   Did I decide to take this drastic and bold step with my hair, only to make it look like everyone else’s?  If I’d wanted that, I could have gotten perfectly round extensions.  No, what I signed up for was a journey.  I’m surely not done with my own journey of growth, so why should my hair be any different?  I have bad days and bumpy days and setbacks… but I am learning to trust that there is beauty, not just in the end, but in the process.

I didn’t like what I’d started to see in myself over the past several weeks as my hair changed.   Me, forever proud not to be overly attached to things like make-up, hairstyles, and fashion…   I was mourning my old hair.   I’d be fine for a few days,  hiding it all under a buff or bandana, and then I’d take a good look in the mirror, wanting to look nice for church or dinner or just a day out.  On one shoulder would be the confidence. “You can own this!  You’re awesome!”  And on the other, would be that insecure teenager again.   “But.  But.  It’s not pretty.”

I am so much more than my hair.

At the same time, my hair’s become an outward symbol of an inward process, more so than I ever could have imagined when I started this journey three months ago.  I look forward to having mature, beautiful dreads in a couple of years.  I do.  But now, I look forward to the journey even more… loops, bumps, and all.

Once a little boy was playing outdoors and found a fascinating caterpillar. He carefully picked it up and took it home to show his mother. He asked his mother if he could keep it, and she said he could if he would take good care of it.

The little boy got a large jar from his mother and put plants to eat, and a stick to climb on, in the jar. Every day he watched the caterpillar and brought it new plants to eat.

One day the caterpillar climbed up the stick and started acting strangely. The boy worriedly called his mother who came and understood that the caterpillar was creating a cocoon. The mother explained to the boy how the caterpillar was going to go through a metamorphosis and become a butterfly.

The little boy was thrilled to hear about the changes his caterpillar would go through. He watched every day, waiting for the butterfly to emerge. One day it happened, a small hole appeared in the cocoon and the butterfly started to struggle to come out.

At first the boy was excited, but soon he became concerned. The butterfly was struggling so hard to get out! It looked like it couldn’t break free! It looked desperate! It looked like it was making no progress!

The boy was so concerned he decided to help. He ran to get scissors, and then walked back (because he had learned not to run with scissors…). He snipped the cocoon to make the hole bigger and the butterfly quickly emerged!

As the butterfly came out the boy was surprised. It had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. He continued to watch the butterfly expecting that, at any moment, the wings would dry out, enlarge and expand to support the swollen body. He knew that in time the body would shrink and the butterfly’s wings would expand.

But neither happened!

The butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.

It never was able to fly…

As the boy tried to figure out what had gone wrong his mother took him to talk to a scientist from a local college. He learned that the butterfly was SUPPOSED to struggle. In fact, the butterfly’s struggle to push its way through the tiny opening of the cocoon pushes the fluid out of its body and into its wings. Without the struggle, the butterfly would never, ever fly. The boy’s good intentions hurt the butterfly.

Struggling is an important part of any growth experience. In fact, it is the struggle that causes you to develop your ability to fly.

 

18 Comments

Filed under about me, acceptance, being happy with what is, dreadlocks, life, self image

April 16, 2012 · 8:56 AM

Unlimited Screen Time?

Almost two weeks ago, Paxton (11 at the time of this writing) jumped up playing basketball, took a bad landing, and ended up severely spraining his ankle.  For the past 13 days he’s been on the couch and I’ve been playing nurse.  Injury not withstanding, I’ve really enjoyed this extra time I’ve suddenly gotten with him.  We’ve watched countless movies together – everything from Bruce Almighty to Lord of the Rings to a documentary about the Titanic.  We’ve watched plenty of TV together too, including a several-episode-long marathon of Criss Angel’s magic.  The TV and movies were fun while they lasted, but he eventually asked me to bring him a laptop.  We then watched videos on YouTube, shared and compared our various wanderings on our respective computers, and had discussion after discussion about all of the above.   He has since moved on to teaching himself card tricks, and he has spent the past 48 hours practicing and perfecting his skills.

In our house, we don’t limit or otherwise try to control television, movies, computers, or other types of “screen time”…. even when no one is injured.  All of that technology is simply another tool we’re all free to use, or not use, as we see fit.  Sometimes our house is humming with televisions, computers, and video games… and sometimes the only humming comes from the kids.  Yesterday (on a rare Sunday at home) no one so much as glanced at a TV until evening came.

When I first became a parent, screen time made me all kinds of uneasy.   I wanted my kids (well, my one kid at the time) to read a book, or do a puzzle, or play outside, or use his imagination… not sit in front of a screen.  I was self-righteous in my resolve, telling anyone who asked that we didn’t do much TV… that in our house we focused on learning activities.  And how much could he possibly learn from a SCREEN?

Well.  As it turns out, a lot.   As I gradually let go and lifted my limits, I realized that those things I had feared not only didn’t hamper Spencer’s learning, but added to it immensely!   We still read books.  We still did puzzles.  We still played outside.  He still used his imagination.  But we’d also opened up a whole new world to enjoy together, one that we still appreciate and share… without limits and without conditions.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

One of the most common questions or objections I get from unschoolers new to the idea of unlimited screen time is that whenever they’ve tried, it’s made their kids unruly or agitated… or as this one reader states, it has just been a “disaster”:

I love the idea of unlimited screen time, but every time I go with it disasters happen. The kids (5 and 3) start bouncing around on the couch, biting each other, kicking, etc. It is worst when they have been watching movies all day so I can’t help but associate it with the screen time.

So why the disaster?  Why, if it works so well for us (and for lots of other families) do so many people try it only to pronounce it a failure?  Here are a few things that could be happening, in no particular order:

1. They’re bored.  They’re watching TV or playing a video game not because they particularly want to, but because no better alternative has been presented or offered.    They’re feeling pent-up or frustrated, so it comes out in their behavior.  It would come out in my behavior too.  Maybe they’d rather be outside, or baking cookies, or drawing a picture, or just hanging out with mom.  When that’s the case, it’s not the fault of the screen.  It’s simply a matter of being involved, maybe doing a little detective work, offering suggestions, and offering yourself.

2.  They’re hungry.  Or tired.  Or in need of a break.  Again, not the fault of the screen.  A lot of times, kids (and adults for that matter) will get really engrossed in something and not listen to their bodies. They miss cues of hunger or fatigue until they’re to the point of grumpy.   Ideally, as parents we should step in before that happens.

3.  Parents are coming into it with preconceived ideas about how it will affect their kids.  In other words, they’re expecting their children to behave in a negative way.  In the same way that many parents who think, “Oh if he has those cookies now, he’ll be bouncing off the walls all night” will then observe said bouncing off the walls, and feel validated for being right… even if the behavior was completely unrelated.    Even if the perceived “hyper” behavior wasn’t so unreasonable after all.  We tend to see what we want to see.

4.  The child/children have just gotten really engrossed in what they’re watching or playing, to the point of wanting to shut out what’s going on around them, and being frustrated by distractions and interruptions.  I know a lot of people think of things like TV watching as passive activities.  You just sit and stare and become a zombie.  I have never found that to be case.   For me (and for my kids who choose to watch TV) I think it’s often the opposite.  I get very involved.  Certain shows and movies make me come alive.  I fall in love with the stories,with the dialogue, with the writing, with the timing.  And just as with any other activity that I’m really immersed in…. whether it’s watching a movie, or reading, or writing, or creating something… when I’m interrupted or have to stop, I feel frustrated.   And while as an adult I can generally sometimes handle that frustration and transition without making too much of a fuss about it, it’s twenty times harder for a child.

5.  Maybe it really does affect your child differently than mine.  (There’s my little disclaimer:   I don’t pretend to know the inner workings of someone else’s child or family)  If that’s the case, I strongly believe that there’s still a way to come to a peaceful and respectful solution that takes everyone’s needs and wishes into account, without being controlling and falling the way of using screen time as a punishment or reward.

Our lives are richer because of technology to be sure :: said as she types on her laptop with high speed internet while simultaneously watching a sci-fi movie with the 11 and 7 year olds ::  At the same time, because it’s treated as no more or less important or valuable as any of the other tools at our disposal, the kids can all take it or leave it.

Right now, they’re leaving it.  The movie got too confusing, and there are important card tricks to be done.

________________________________________________________________________

You might also want to read No thank you, we’ll stay plugged; and Blame the Video Games

25 Comments

Filed under learning, life, technology, television, unschooling, video games

April 12, 2012 · 8:37 AM

Mom’s Rules

Once again, less than stellar parenting advice from Facebook.  I don’t post rules in my house, but if I did, mine would look more like this:

If I cook it….. it’s probably something we all like and enjoy.  Regardless, you are welcome to eat all, some, or none of it, according to your own appetite  and personal taste.

If I buy it… and I give it to you, it’s a gift.  It’s yours, with no strings and no conditions.

If I wash it… it’s done out of a sense of love and cooperation. I wouldn’t expect you to put it away for any other reason.

If I clean it… it’s because I wanted it clean.  If I ask for your help in keeping it that way, it’s a request, not a demand.

If I say bed time… it means I’m going to bed.  Because you’re free to follow your own internal clock, you’ll say good night when you go to bed… whether it’s in your own bed, or nestled between mom and dad.

If I say get off the phone…  I’m being pretty rude.   If I need to ASK you to get off the phone, I will have a good reason, and I will do so politely.

If I say no…  it’s most likely an issue of safety or unavoidable logistics.  You are always welcome to ask why, and you always deserve the courtesy of a response (one that does not include the phrase, “because I said so”)

‘Cause we’re a family.

74 Comments

Filed under Facebook, life, parenting

March 29, 2012 · 8:08 AM

Just Like Riding a Bike

When Spencer learned to ride a bike without training wheels, he did so over a period of several months.  He never fell.   He inched, slowly, slowly, gaining a little more confidence every day.  He scootched on his feet until he was balanced enough to put one foot on pedal, then two.  He inched some more.  Until one day, he was able to confidently put both feet on the pedals, and pedaled away smoothly and easily like he had been doing it his whole life. ‘

When Paxton learned, he learned in one day.  He fell many times.  He was scraped and bruised and frustrated, and about ready to throw his bike across the street.  He kept getting back on.  Again and again, he tried, fell, got back up.  Each time he got a little bit further.  And by the end of the day his perseverance had also paid off, and he too was riding like he’d been doing it his whole life.

Everett was somewhere between his two brothers.  He reached a point where he didn’t want to ride with training wheels anymore, but at first just wasn’t that interested in riding on two wheels.  He would try here and there, sometimes asking for help and sometimes not.  Sometimes he’d fall, and sometimes he wouldn’t get to that point.  Sometimes he’d go long stretches without wanting to ride a bike at all.   Earlier this year he said, “One of my goals for this year is to learn to ride my bike.”  I told him I thought that was wonderful.   He never mentioned it again though, until yesterday.  He walked into the room, helmet in hand, and said, “I’m going to go out and practice on my bike.”  He took a couple tries on his own, had me hold on to the back of his bike for awhile, then wanted to try on his own again.

Then I took this:

He stayed out another hour after that, by the end of which – yup – he was riding up and down the street (on and off the curb and everything) like he’d been doing it his whole life.

Three kids.  Three styles.  Three bike riders.

That’s unschooling.

7 Comments

Filed under Everett, learning, life, unschooling

March 13, 2012 · 3:26 PM

Worms, field trips, and some plans for the future

Yesterday morning, the kids and I went on a field trip that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since.  It was actually only the first stop in one of those crazybusyexhaustingbutfun kind of days –  the kind that had us leaving the house at 9:00 AM and not returning until 6:30 PM – but it’s the stop that won’t leave my mind.

We toured a city home whose owners had transformed it into a sustainable, completely eco-friendly living space.   And it was awesome.  I will always hold out hope that we’ll have a nice piece of land again someday (sometimes it still befuddles me that a country girl like me wound up in a city the size of Phoenix, of all places) but yesterday’s tour reminded me that I don’t have to have a big chunk of land in order to make some huge – and hugely impactful – changes to the way we live.

On this less than 8,000 square foot plot, this family utilized:

They also had chickens; an outdoor shower; many edible, multi-functional and indigenous plants;  bee blocks;  a small greenhouse; rebar shade structures… and much more that I’m forgetting.  The entire space was careful and deliberately designed, and nothing – not so much as a drop of rainwater – was wasted.

All right there on this little plot, in a regular old neighborhood, right in the middle of a city.

Inspiring.

I came home filled with ideas, and looking at our current housing situation with new perspective.   Lately we’ve been talking about the possibility of moving again (locally) and have been sifting through our options.  Unfortunately, because like so many millions of other Americans right now we are woefully underwater on our house, our options are few.   We’re starting at the only place we can start, by culling our clutter, organizing our finances, and getting the house ready for someone who will really love it.  When we do move (and I say “when” instead of “if” because I believe it will happen) if we can recreate even half of what this beautiful family has designed, I will be happy.

2 Comments

Filed under eco, field trips, inspirational, life, passions, pets, plans

March 11, 2012 · 5:00 PM

Playing nicely with others

“I want to be clear and here are the values that I stand for. I stand for honesty, equality, kindness, compassion, treating people the way you want to be treated, and helping those in need. To me those are traditional values. That’s what I stand for.”  ~ Ellen Degeneres

If you’re on my Facebook page (and if you’re not, consider this your personal invitation) you might have seen a conversation a few days ago about homosexuality.  I don’t generally post about things that can garner such controversy – make no mistake, unschooling and gentle parenting garner plenty of that all by themselves – but it’s been heavily on my heart since the firestorm that happened after the homecoming photo of the gay marine went viral, and then again after Kirk Cameron’s recent remarks to Piers Morgan.

For the first time, I thought very seriously of writing about it.  I think it’s a highly important issue, and one that has become increasingly relevant.  But in the Facebook conversation I mentioned above, it became evident to me rather quickly that such a post would not be received well.  A few people even told me I should “stick to writing about parenting.”

Well…

I’m not going to write about homosexuality.  But not because people think I shouldn’t, not because it’s too controversial, and not because I’m afraid of alienating readers.   As far as I’m concerned, none of the above are valid reasons not to write something.  It’s just that I realized at some point over the past couple of days that the issue isn’t really about homosexuality at all.  It’s about how we treat each other.  And that is actually very much a parenting issue, because our children learn how to treat others from us: their biggest role models.

There are things we are not going to agree on, to be sure.  But if you’re reading this blog, whoever you are and wherever you are in your life,  I sincerely hope we can agree on the following:  (Borrowed from the lovely Ellen Degeneres, because I happen to stand for the exact same values)

Honesty – I have seen people do some crazy and sometimes hurtful things in the name of honesty.  Almost as if “honesty” grants them the license to behave as badly as they’d like, regardless of whether or not it is helpful, necessary, or kind.  That’s not the kind of honesty I’m referring to.   The kind of honesty I live by is both more simple and more primal.  It’s the kind of honesty you can only give when you are first honest with yourself.  The kind of honesty that comes not from talking, but largely from listening…. listening to that still, quiet voice deep within yourself.  A voice which when it is honored, will never, ever, lie to you.

Equality –  (From dictionary.com) ” The state or quality of being equal;  correspondence in quantity, degree, value, rank, or ability.”  Gay, straight, black, white, rich, poor… we’re all the same, not one of us better than the other.  To me, equality means that everyone should receive the same standard of treatment, regardless of his or her individual characteristics or circumstances.

Kindness – I’ve seen so much unkindness over the past couple of weeks.  So much unkindness!   And while I have to say in all fairness that it has come from many camps, one of the most vocal has been comprised of Christians.   Not only does disagreeing with someone’s lifestyle not give you the rein to be unkind about it, it is also directly counter to the core values of the person you profess to follow.  As a Christian myself, it gives me zero joy to say this, but…. I can thoroughly understand why so many people feel frustrated and/or angered or offended by Christians as a whole.  There is no better way to turn someone away – perhaps permanently – than by being judgmental and cruel, all under the name of Christianity.

Let’s be kind.  Let’s be gracious.  Let’s be compassionate:

Compassion – Compassion takes kindness one step further.  Compassion means deeply feeling for another person, and taking on their trials or misfortune as if they were your own.   To be compassionate means you want to help… whether that be simply through words or comfort or meeting some physical need.    I write most often about meeting children’s needs,  largely because I continue to see such widespread inequality in their treatment.  But I also have compassion for any group of people that is continually shamed, persecuted, and treated unfairly.

Treating people the way you want to be treated – The Golden Rule.   I’d like to think that when asked, most parents would answer that “Yes, of course we tell our children to treat people the way they’d want to be treated!”  But do we live it?  Do we show them how to do it?  Do we model it for them?  If we don’t, all the words in the world won’t make a difference.  Treat people the way you want to be treated.  ALL people.  Simultaneously the simplest and most difficult value of all.

Helping those in need – There’s a Friends episode where they squabble over whether or not there’s such a thing as an unselfish good deed.   The argument was that doing good things for others makes us feel good, thus making it just as selfish as it is altruistic.  It was of course played for laughs, but it did illuminate a very interesting truth:  Helping others DOES feel good!  And I can’t help but think that the reason it feels good is that it’s what we were meant to do.  We were meant to help others.  We were meant to work together.  We were meant to give of ourselves.

————

I don’t know about you, but I don’t enjoy fighting and unrest.  It makes me anxious, it makes me sad, and it gives me a stomach ache.  I want to focus my energy – all my energy – on the six items above.  Call me naive, but I truly believe that if more of us did just that, that everything else would fall into place.

 

10 Comments

Filed under kindness, learning, life, parenting, respect, Uncategorized

February 28, 2012 · 8:39 AM

One thing at a time

I’m a slow learner.

For the past year (at least) a big running theme on my blog has been the art of not sweating the small stuff.  Living in the moment.  Appreciating the calm amidst the chaos.  Letting go.

And I get it, and I understand it, and I feel it…. but I still find myself having to re-learn it.  Over and over and over again.

I have spent most of February MAJORLY sweating the small stuff (and the big stuff and everything in between)  I have been overwhelmed and stressed out and so, SO tired.  I was coming off one of the worst and longest stretches of insomnia I’d ever had – one that started well before the new year – and that coupled with the sudden onslaught of doctor appointments, Cub Scout activities, basketball, gymnastics, church events, writing projects, park days and birthdays and parties and… and and and…. it was all sending me over the edge.  I was unraveling.  It got to where I felt like I couldn’t do anything, so immobilized I was even at the idea of choosing a place to start.   Every time I heard that little “dink dink dink” on my phone, telling me I had another email, I cried winced.  Another place to be.  Another thing to attend to.  Another commitment to put on the calendar.

I was burnt out.  The house was out of control, I couldn’t seem to meet all four kids’ needs at the same time, and my own personal pursuits had become a thing of the distant past.  Leaving the house didn’t help, because I was so exhausted that I couldn’t enjoy it; and staying home didn’t help either, because at home I was buried under the weight of the 7425 things that needed my attention, not to the mention the growing inadequacy I was feeling as a mother (let alone as a wife.  As stressed I was, and as hectic as we were, we were lucky if we said hello when we passed each other as we ran one of the kids to their next engagement.  I think I still know what he looks like.)

I few days ago, I posted on Facebook about my feelings of overwhelm.  One wise friend told me:

“One thing at a time, finish it, move to the next.”

And it irritated the ^$@^%* out of me.  Well, I know that already.  You think I don’t know that?  It’s not that easy.  How do you do one thing at a time when you have a million things that need to be finished RIGHT NOW?  How do you do one thing at a time when you have so many things to do that there’s no single place to start?

I grumped at the mere suggestion for a good part of the morning.  “One thing at a time”… pffffft.

Then you know what I did?

I did one thing.  I finished it.  I took a big gasping gulp of air breath.  I moved on to the next.  By the time I got to the fourth or fifth thing on the list, I was breathing for real.  I wasn’t so overwhelmed.  I wasn’t so stressed about what remained undone, instead focusing on the productivity and the reality and the beauty of the moment.  I realized – AGAIN – that it really is about baby steps.   Not sweating the small stuff.  Living in the moment.  Having faith.  Trusting.  Breathing.

I was able to enjoy a fun go-cart riding birthday party for Spencer, and just a few days later threw a lovely little party for Tegan as well.  We watched Everett score in his last basketball game of the season, and accept his trophy in the awards ceremony.  We went to church yesterday, and we shopped for the supplies to make up the care packages we’ve been wanting to put in our cars for the homeless.   I got 99% of March on the calendar, and I breathed a sigh of relief that the bulk of February’s craziness was complete.

Now we’re about to head into another month, and another season, that is so far scheduled to be even busier than February.  And I’m realizing something else… also not for the first time:

I can’t do it all.   I especially can’t do it all at the same time.

Right now, I have to focus on my kids first.  They suffer when I’m stressed/not sleeping/burnt out, and that’s not fair to them.  So my first order of business is more pancake breakfasts.  More bubble blowing.  More chalk murals on the driveway.  More reading.  More singing.  More talking about Minecraft and legoes and Wonder Pets.

On a more personal note, I have a few different writing projects I’m working on for the month of March… all of which I’ll be sure to share if and when they come to fruition.

In April, I begin the marathon of yoga training that will only conclude with the 180 hours (crammed into two weeks!)  of studio time in July.

In keeping with my new adage of “one thing at a time”, I’m not sure what’s coming after that.  There’s the personal trainer exam I’ve been wanting to prepare for for the past year.  The herbalist portion of the Holistic Health degree I started when I completed the Nutrition certification program.  All the big ideas I had for my blog.  I don’t know.

I’m giving myself permission not to stress out about it, and not to feel like I have to do everything right now.   Which means that for the moment, blogging is going to be taking a backseat and squarely landing on my “when I have time” list…. along with jewelry making, practicing the piano, henna tattooes, and finally putting my vacation pictures (from last July) into an album.

I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll still be around.  It’s just that I’ve had to make the decision – one I feel good about – that this isn’t the time for devoting tons of hours to blogging.  Someday it will be, but not right now.

Right now I need to do one thing at a time.

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Filed under about me, breathing, learning, life, not sweating the small stuff, plans, simplifying

February 21, 2012 · 9:43 AM

Dreadlocks: How, When, and WHY

As most of you know, a few days after my 38th birthday, I decided that I was going to fulfill a very long-held wish and dread my hair.    A faithful friend came over and spent six hours carefully sectioning, backcombing, and keeping me company while we watched three whole chick flicks in a row.

Unfortunately, we weren’t quite as aggressive as we should have been with the backcombing.  Less than a week – and one washing – later, they’d all fallen out.  I was determined though (I am nothing if not determined), so over the course of the next few days, I re-did them, using a method known as the “twist and rip” method.  It simply means taking the section of hair in two pieces, giving it a twist, then pulling it apart again, separating it in a new place each time.  It. took. forever.  especially since I was doing it myself.  But it worked.

That was one month ago today, and I still have dreads!   There’s a way to tuck the ends all in to make them all blunt and neat and tidy, but so far I like them free and wispy.  They’re just babies, so most days they’re a big fuzzy mess, especially when I wash them (yes, people with dreadlocks wash their hair.  I just use an organic, non-residue shampoo)  Some are tight and some are loose.  I have stray hairs and grey hairs everywhere.   They bend all crazy, and they have odd loops and strange turns and random bumps.

I can’t wait to watch them grow and change and mature.

And in the meantime, I’m enjoying experimenting with them.

On the good days, when they’re not looking too ridiculous, I like wearing them with just a headband or a bandana.

So why did I do it?

(From least to most important)

3.  I think they’re cool.   Mature dreadlocks are just a striking, beautiful look to me, and it’s one I’ve been in awe of for years.

2.  I’m lazy.  Or more accurately, I prefer to spend the least amount of time as possible on my physical appearance.  I’ve never been one to want to spend more than 30 seconds hours doing my hair and/or makeup, and the more kids I had, the more true that became.  I barely wear makeup.  I don’t straighten my hair.  I can’t remember the last time I used a hair dryer.   For the last several years, I’ve been a hair-in-a-ponytail 8 days out of 7 kind of girl.  So you can imagine how attractive and freeing I find the idea of a hairstyle that I can literally just wash and wear and be ready to step out the door.

1.  I wanted what I looked like on the outside to match what I felt like on the inside.  My whole life, I’ve felt “different.”  I’ve never been one to fit in with the crowd (any crowd), instead identifying most strongly with those on the outside.  And rather than running from that truth, I want to embrace it.    I want to embrace anything that helps me to feel more comfortable in my own skin, that helps me feel even more free from constraints, more free to relate to others, more free to be me.  A couple of days ago in church, the lesson was in part about judging people by their hearts rather than by their physical appearance.  People – whether they openly admit it or not – often tend to do the latter, while God looks strictly at the heart.  At one point the pastor started listing things off:  “God looks at your heart… not your tattoos, or your piercings, or your mohawk, or your purple hair, or your ‘tramp stamp’…”  Mike and I looked at each other and just laughed, because you can find all of the above in our household.   And while people may judge us for any or all of those things, God does not.  God wants us to be free.

So while in many ways it’s just a small thing (it’s only hair after all), in a symbolic way, it is a huge thing.  An outward reflection of an inner decision to reject being spoon-fed, to challenge the status quo, and to whole-heartedly embrace the search for truth and authenticity.

And over the next several months and years, as my dreads change and grow and mature…. so will I.

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Filed under about me, acceptance, dreadlocks, life