A Bike and A Lesson in Living Now

Is there such thing as being too frugal? You'd have had a hard time convincing me of it a few months ago. My mother and her mother before her were practiced at sacrificing and saving for their families' financial welfare. My Grandma Verna survived what we call the "Great Depression" so she had money saving tips that boggle the mind, including washing and reusing bread bags and reusing paper napkins for at least two meals. My mom wasn't far behind her in practicing frugality and early on I saw the wisdom of their habits. Neither had debt, both paid off their homes and saved for the future.

As a mom, I often find myself giving up something special that I want for the sake of my family's needs or perceived needs. I prioritize bills against other things we need and push those things further down the list. As we provide (on a single income) for our small children, who eat an astonishing amount of food, I find myself giving up things I need for myself, like attractive clothing, dinners out with friends and even makeup. There have been bigger ones too - like the birthday money I received toward a "real" camera that I had to spend on an unexpected bill. That was three years ago and I still don't have the camera.

I am circumspect about these choices and recognize them as a necessary part of my decision to trade a more comfortable income with the chance to stay home and enjoy every minute of my children's preschool experience. And, I can honestly say, I am content.

But, since a rather life changing experience in February when I spent some time in critical condition due to a severe miscarriage hemorrhage, my outlook has changed. For those of you who have read my blog for a while, I don't want to harp on this excessively, but quite frankly, feeling my life almost seep out between my legs drastically affected my perspective. I emerged with a profound gratitude to be alive and a fierce determination to wring every drop from this intoxicating drink called life. I find myself saying, "Yes!" a lot more and taking every opportunity to connect with people, long time friends and strangers. And, I'm doing things for me that I had previously put off to "someday".

Before my mom died, she gave me money for a birthday and I told her I couldn't decided whether to buy a beautiful quilt I loved or get a jump on some other financial obligation.

Mom surprised me by saying, "Sweetie, you know I believe in being frugal. I have spent a lot of my life giving up things I want to support our family and I've never regretted it. But, I hope you'll get that quilt because you need to have a little fun along with the responsibility."

Like a typical daughter, I listened but I still did what I thought was right. I didn't get the quilt.

This year, I feel differently. When we had a little extra income a month ago, I did something extravagant. I spent money on ME and bought a bike. A brand new, sparkly, lavender bike. My husband threatened to pick it himself when I teetered on the edge of "No". I've been riding around like a little kid ever since and am relishing the freedom, alone time and exercise it's brought to me.

Friends, I am not advocating being unwise or thoughtless with your finances. I still believe in saving, making smart choices and shopping at thrift stores (it's like a treasure hunt!). My purchase didn't require a credit card or compromising my ability to buy groceries.

But, I discovered that I believe in one pass at this life and I want to find a way to feel it all. I want the beauty along with the ugly, the hope along with the pain. And, in this case, the bike along with helmet (even though that's a double positive). Taking hold of life does not necessarily require spending more money - but it does require our taking advantage of the moment we're in and being the fullest version of ourselves.

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend and that you are enjoying every bit of the life you're leading. If you're looking for me, I will be riding my bike!

This Little Light of Mine

This morning, I'm relishing the beauty of my crazy life. Two of my nephews just drove away with my sister after spending 4 days and nights rockin' our household while their parents enjoyed a well-deserved vacation, alone. (something we parents need on occasion!) I'm just now sitting down for the first time this morning - to appreciate the fun it was.

Housing four kids, age 7 and under, is rather an amazing feat in a townhouse that's not set up for it. And not only did I have four kids for the last few days, I actually had some extras running around too. Monday, a our little two year old buddy (another girl) was over to play. That night we enjoyed an evening with our four - plus some dear friends (in from out of town!) who brought their three over as well. You can imagine the noise level with 7 kids in a small space. It was mostly happy noise. Tuesday, I packed us all up and headed to a friend's house to watch her 6 and a 4 year old while she headed to work. So, I got to try my hand at 6 kids. Whew! They played pretty well together. Outside play is the key!!

It would probably be easier to gradually build up to having four kids around all the time but I was pleasantly surprised at how fun it was. The biggest challenge was probably food prep. I found myself channeling my mom and my Grandma Verna - who had five and seven children respectively - and who cooked nearly everything from scratch. I remember my mom telling stories about growing up on their family stock-farm. The girls (mom and gram) woke up and started cooking for the boys. The boys would come in from chores, eat breakfast and head back out to the fields. Meanwhile, the girls would clean up the mess from breakfast and start cooking dinner (lunch). After lunch, they'd start all over again for supper! That's pretty much what it felt like for me the last few days!

After the boys left today, I surveyed the small explosions of toys, clothes, laundry and other remains of the experience around the house and decided to walk away and head out to my latest little garden experiment. As I worked on my new compost pile (more on that later!), I found my heart sort of swelling up with a sort of joyous glee.

Not only did I survive four days with four kids under seven - I enjoyed every minute! We laughed when the three and two year old had sweet little conversations with each other and shared their toys. I nearly cried when my oldest nephew fell and took it hard in the knee - and felt pride when he bravely soldiered through the cleaning and bandaging. We fed my nephew's pet tortoise and let him walk around in our yard, marveling at his tiny size and his perfect design. Watching a baby tortoise eat is an amazing thing! 

We weathered little arguments and temper tantrums between the youngest and erupted in laughter at the crazy giggles of joy that emerged from the two oldest as they stayed up late to play old school Nintendo with my husband. We ended our visit with a trip to In 'n' Out Burger last night (yes, even Organic Mama breaks down to eat fast food on occasion), and the kids were in heaven, laughing and making up ridiculous jokes while slurping down their hormone-filled chocolate shakes (see, I still think about it!). And...I managed not to freak out when my two year old decided to destroy her sister's tea party set because she liked the sound of porcelain smashing on the tile.

As my nephews drove away, we chatted with a few neighbors and a friend stopped by to bring me some kitchen scraps for my compost. She checked out my small garden and we visited for a few minutes before she left. Then, as I watered my garden after she left and touched a few of my lovely little plants, I thought back on this week and felt an almost overwhelming joy at the way my life is unfolding before me.

My life is nothing like I planned and yet - so much better than I imagined it. I haven't achieved the kind of career I intended. I am not living in the little (single family) house with a big yard I thought I needed. Instead we have a multi-family house with a big yard (more about our house here)! I still count every penny and sometimes worry about how we're going to meet our financial obligations - though we're super frugal and our only debt is our mortgage.

But, in all the ways that count, I think I just might be the richest person I know. The rooms of my small home, two upstairs and two down, echo with the sounds of real life, laughter and tears, fights and making up. The person I admire most in all the world loves me (me!) and thinks I'm beautiful and wonderful. The prettiest, sweetest and smartest little girls I've ever met are my little daughters and think I hang the moon (as long as I'm not telling them to pick up their toys). My four sisters - strong, brilliant, beautiful and opinionated - are amazing women who I'm proud to call family.  Some of the most incredible women (and men) I know - call me friend.

Lately, this gratefulness has become a regular thing with me and I believe I know why. I think my near death experience in February, when I said goodbye to the baby I was so longing to meet, served (for me, anyway) a medium that makes the blessings in my life stand our in brilliant relief against the pain. It reminded me - rather dramatically - that life is like a brilliant flash of light that can be extinguished far too easily. And, unlike when my mom, dad and brother died and I first faced my own mortality and responded with a kind of life-paralysis, this is different. While I miss that little baby with physical ache at times, I am grateful for the gift he gave me of living NOW.  

Going through pain and loss only makes life's moments of wonder and joy that much more precious. I haven't always felt this way. It is a lesson that I'm still learning - after multiple opportunities. But, I'm determined to be IN LIFE. Messy and loud and crazy as it is (at least in our house!), I'm enjoying every minute. Every visit, every laugh and cry, every stinking diaper that my two year old takes off (yes, still doing that!), every dear friend (or potential new friend!), every challenge and moment of ease, every chance to house 4 kids in my small house - I'm going to take it and have fun doing it!

Funny that this post went a direction I didn't expect today. But, the truth is, it's what I've been thinking about lately. The light I have a chance to be. The light we all can be to those around us.

My flash of light will be something worth seeing. My goal is that I'll blaze so brightly that when I'm gone, those around me still glow with a residual light.

What about you?

A Novel Approach to Life

The morning sun cast its first rays across the floor as she crept down the hall. A tingle pricked her forearms and slithered up her shoulders to her neck, turning into a full blown shudder as she gripped her weapon more tightly and placed her finger square on the trigger. As she reached the end of the hall, she paused, fearful of what she might find if she continued. But, she had no choice. This was the only way out. Taking a slow, silent breath, she gathered her courage and, weapon firmly clasped in her hands, rounded the corner. Just as she feared, he was there, waiting for her.

And, although she abhorred violence, she did not hesitate. She pulled the trigger, not once, not twice but over and over, shouting, "DIE! DIE! DIE!!!!" as she shot him - as though it would somehow make the end come more quickly. Confused by his sudden fall from power, he crawled toward her, thinking escape was possible. He was gone within seconds while she was left, panting and shaken, horrified by the thought that this wasn't the first time she'd lived this nightmare and that it wasn't likely to be the last.

This, my friends, is not, as you might imagine, a fiction. It is, in fact, a true story.

The heroine is - of course - me.

The target, is - a












COCKROACH!

Yes. That's right. I've interrupted our regularly scheduled Monday programming to bring you the saga of my personal battle against a cockroach (and his d*** friends) - and how that battle against these creatures of the night has changed my life and caused me to face some personal demons as well.

It all started a few months ago, when I was working downstairs late in the evening  - and discovered the biggest FR**king roach I've ever seen in my life. I stood, frozen and horrified as I watched it run at lightening speed around my freshly cleaned kitchen and spread it's nastiness everywhere.

"What do I do? What do I do?!" I thought as I stood there, unable to move. The thing had too many places to go for me to hit it successfully, not to mention that it was too darned fast! I did the only respectable thing a smart woman can do. I called my husband (who was soundly sleeping) - and let him play the hero. And, after he stumbled out of bed and miraculously managed to hit the thing with the first swat, even he was freaked out by it's size!

Now, in Arizona, we are lucky not to have many natural disasters. Nope. Instead we have flying roaches. My fear of these creepers dates back to childhood - and the encounters I had with them that emotionally scarred me. Now, I am not going to describe those events because I fear that even you might be unable to sleep tonight if you were to recall them before bed. You can see from this previous post how cool I am about handling them.

Suffice it to say that when I discovered this sewer roach who'd visited my house via a drain pipe had encouraged his friends to visit, horror does not begin to describe my response.

I embarked on a mission to make my house so perfectly clean that not a crumb, a drop of water or a smear of jelly remained anywhere as a repast for unwelcome guests. No toy could be left on the floor, no towel left damp, no wet clothing unwashed. EVERYTHING had a place and EVERYONE had to honor it - FROM NOW ON - NO EXCEPTIONS!!!!!!!

If you're wondering why it seems like I am yelling, it's just so you get an idea of how lovely it was to live with me for the first month I spent shoring up every mess in my house and informing everyone when they failed to live up to my new standard of clean. I was a woman obsessed, terrorized by the possible and likely presence of these horrid creatures of the night who'd never visited before in the 10 years I'd lived here, though we'd never sprayed for bugs.

Now, you know, I am an organic mama and I didn't want to expose my kids to any nasty chemicals like bug foggers. So, I chose the natural route, diatomaceous earth and a clean house. Every day, I spent scouring the house like a possessed person, thinking if I just got it clean enough, they would more on because there was not food and no place to hide. I was embarrassed because I thought these creatures only visited dirty houses and so stressed I was jumpy for weeks and imagined them everywhere I looked. Talk about crazy!

Of course, after quite a bit of research on the subject, I discovered that sewer roaches can actually come up the drains (in any house!) or creep in through cracks in doors and other little spots. So, we covered our drains, filled in any holes, spread diatomaceous earth and learned how to kill them with a spray bottle of super-soapy water (no raid required!). That last is way easier than trying to catch them with a giant shoe because you can hit them before they even know you've detected their presence.

But more importantly than learning about how to eliminate a roach invasion in my house, I learned some important things about myself.

First, I re-discovered my inborn desire to keep my house just as clean as I want it to be (even with preschoolers) - something I inherited from my mother and my grandma. Before kids, I was a little bit nuts about things being orderly and living in a structured schedule. Around the time I had kids, a lot of other things were going on in my life with family and I felt completely overwhelmed by the influx of stuff that the birth of our children introduced into our townhouse. While I kept the house clean, it has never quite met my standard of organized.

Since the "guests" visited, I found new determination to get back to a house I feel good about inviting actual friends to visit. While I definitely went overboard at first in my crazy, exhausted state - snarling at everyone to follow the new rules, I am learning to follow a regular routine that allows me to maintain order and still have time with my kids. I haven't reached any kind of perfection but at least I'm heading toward a goal. It helps that my youngest is old enough to play with her big sister safely now and follow instructions fairly well.

The second lesson I learned through this is that being stressed about getting everything right isn't going to make this or any other challenge easier. One of life's more important lessons is how to move gracefully from one challenge to the next. Somehow, in the last few years, as I experienced significant loss in the death of my brother, mom and dad, I lost my ability to do this.

There was so much loss in such a short time that I was so helpless to affect, I became afraid of change. It definitely seemed like the changes weren't great ones. Anxiety and fear sort of shoved their way into my heart and I didn't feel I had the strength to fight them at first. I tried to cope with them by micro-managing the little things that I could control. I think part of me believed that if I could just get everything else just right in my life, I would be able to deal with the painful parts more efficiently. But this attitude only stressed me out and made my family miserable.

Who knew a simple cockroach could teach me such a valuable lesson about meeting change differently?  Experiences - from love and joy to pain and loss - are supposed to be messy, unmanageable and change the way we see life. Freeing myself from the idea that I have control over anything other than my attitude has given me freedom and flexibility to enjoy life again in a way I'd forgotten was possible.

Worrying about what might happen only causes me to miss out on the good stuff right in front of me. To help me remember, I wrote a note to myself on my kitchen cabinet that says, "You have an amazing life! Enjoy it now!!" I look at it when I doubt it - which usually happens about three in the afternoon when I'm tired, need to get dinner started and my two year old is pitching a fit.


Thanks Cockroach. - R.I.P. -  I owe a big debt of gratitude to you.

Don't worry. If your friends visit, I'll send them your way.

Happy Birthday to - ME!

Tonight, I've stayed up much, much later than I should have. But, I am reveling in the loveliness of celebrating another birth-day today (YES!!!) and I am not quite ready to move on yet, despite my husband encouraging me not to stay up all night. Oops! I'll probably pay for that tomorrow in exhaustion but... that's what coffee's for, right?

The truth is, I wasn't sure if today was going to be amazing because I went to bed last night away from my family, nursing a tired little monkey who was worn out from nearly a week of stomach flu (ugh!). But, when I woke, I decided to be thankful - that I have a little monkey girl to nurse and a family to miss! And somehow, this day became amazing despite it's uncertain beginning. It didn't happen without a lot of love and care from family and friends who went out of their way to make it special. THANK YOU!

I have spent a lot of time over this last month reflecting on the blessings of my life. These past few years have not been without challenges. But, somehow, as I look back, the blessings stand out to me in drastic relief against everything else. It is as though all those challenges have served to more brightly illuminate what an absolute treasure each moment of life can be if only I will let it.

Added together, those moments beam like bright stars through the darker moments of my life. I am so awed by their light and beauty, I cannot stop gazing at them. My heart and mind are blinded by their radiance! Thus - my late, LATE night.

As I wonder at their loveliness, this arrangement by Morten Lauridsen comes to mind. The poetry by James Agee perfectly describes my feelings in the line..."Kindness must watch for me this side the ground"

I love the University of Utah's rendition.



The rest of the words follow...

"Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand'ring far alone
Of shadows on the stars."

Hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Are you enjoying the shimmering night of your life?

Blessings - Monna

Rob Bell - Herald or Heretic?

This week, Rob Bell's video promo for his new book, Love Wins, ignited quite a controversy in the Christian community. If you haven't seen the video, check it out.


I usually don't touch on this subject. It's very private and dear to my heart. But I need to get this off my chest.

I watched Rob Bell’s video. It’s interesting that he doesn’t actually answer any of the questions he’s asking. Despite that, he’s already been labeled and discarded by some Christians. I guess it’s because these aren’t the safe questions allowed by Christian doctrine. Too scary.
But here's my real point.

I don't know what Bell’s conclusions will be in his as-yet-unreleased book. More importantly, I DON'T CARE what they are.

Because the real problem isn't whether someone like Bell, who has already identified himself as Christian, believes Christian doctrine as he should. Christians are supposed to believe that God gets to decide whether Bell is a believer or not, right? As I say this, I'm not suggesting Christians shouldn't know history/doctrine/faith tenants and hold true to them.

My real problem with this entire controversy is that it clearly illustrates a significant problem with a large portion of the Christian community. Here it is.

In Rob Bell's video, he voices genuine questions asked by people unschooled in church doctrine/language. The people who aren't familiar with "allowed & safe" Christian inquiry. These aren't "pie-in-the-sky" questions. These aren't shallow questions. These aren't questions that are just "excuses" for not choosing to believe in God - as some people I know suggest. They are the kind of questions asked by the people who are supposed to be the target of the Church’s love & evangelism.

These are the questions  real people I know and love - who came face to face with Christ from outside the church (and some from within it) - have seriously wrestled with in the hopes of finding something true, deep, transcendent to believe. I'm not talking about shallow people. I'm talking about people willing to seek truth, face doubt and grapple with questions that challenge the foundation of who they are, who God is and how we're supposed to live out life.

Many of these thoughtful truth seekers discovered there was no place for real questions in the  faith communities who originally claimed to welcome them "just as they were". Sadly, this is the reason many of those friends have walked away from Church. Yet others outside the Church won't even glance toward the God of Christianity because they believe there is no place for them to ask honest questions about life. 

Did you hear that?

How can the Church expect people outside the faith to want the God inside if current members are rejected for honest inquiry? Is the God of Christianity too small/afraid to handle it?

I don’t believe it.

In this blog, I always encourage honest inquiry and the thoughtful quest for wisdom. That is part of the journey. Life happens, good and bad, tragic and joyous. You know I don't say this lightly. I've faced loss and death and I'm not afraid to ask honest questions.

I'm also no longer afraid not to have all the answers. So, I'm not going to give any here. I would rather leave you with more questions than answers so that you can think for yourself about what you believe about God, life and our purpose here with each other. Because I believe that if we seek truth, it will answer. After all, it's not really faith if it can't stand up to doubt, right?

But, for believers, I want to point you to one of the most famous Bible chapters on love, the topic of Bell's new book.

1 Corinthians 13 isn’t just a text for weddings.It’s a message about the strength of real love. How it's not easily angered, believes and hopes for the best. Love is stronger than hate, prophesy, knowledge. It transcends the dim view we have of the full picture. I believe this is the fullness of who God is.


Not threatened at all by questions. Not afraid of genuine inquiry.

Read it again.

Blessings.

Monna

1 Corinthians 13 (New International Version, ©2011)

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Summertime break!

It's been a while since I posted. For some reason, when summer arrived this year, I found myself in a place where regular blogging became impossible or maybe just too exhausting. We started our summer with a lovely trip to Colorado and helping some friends out with their hobby farm. But, then, things got crazy when my husband spent two weeks playing music at two different youth camps. When he returned home, he spent another week in the studio. For those unfamiliar with music life, this means he worked his day job, then went straight to the studio till 1 or 2 in the morning. I don't know how he kept up that schedule because just being home with two girls, 24/7 for three weeks straight exhausted me!

So, it's no surprise I didn't blog much at the beginning of the summer. As it progressed though, I got engrossed in the fun of swimming pools, hiking and playing with friends and family and making some significant personal changes (more on that later!). Today, I just wanted to say that I'm still here and I'll be back to writing regularly and sharing some new adventures soon!

The Voluptuous Shopper

Last night I had a chance to go shopping - by myself - so I went. I really needed some new clothes that don't look like they've been pooped or spit up on (you know those oily spots?) or fingerprinted by loving hands. It's not that I don't love those precious little marks, but sometimes I want to wear something that says, "sexy, smart woman" not just "mom" - you know?

Since I'd received a generous gift card to a department store for my birthday, I decided to head there. But, here's the thing... Due to stress/childbearing/laziness/happiness/exhaustion etc. and despite my organic lifestyle, I've added a few inches my waistline in the last several years. So, I have to head to the, um, VOLUPTUOUS girl section of the store. I started looking and as usual, was underwhelmed by the style offerings available. First, over half of the clothes in that section look like something my grandmother would have enjoyed wearing - in 1970 - if she'd been any bigger than a thimble. Then, there are the natural assumptions some "designers" make about fuller figured women.

Poor assumptions: 1. If you're bigger, you have big breasts to match. (Not true of me - which means I need a seriously boosted bra or an amazing tailor). 2. If you're bigger, you're probably ashamed (or should be) of your body, so here's a rather shapeless, giant, floral tent to cover it. Ok, this may not be entirely fair. There ARE some great, fashionable clothes available in fuller sizes - and I found some to try. But, overall, the boring/ugly/insulting offerings in full figured departments can demoralize a curvy gal before she even gets to the dressing room!

I made my way to the fitting room with a TON of clothing, determined to be open minded and to bring something new and cute home with me. As I got ready to try what I'd chosen, I could feel a critical spirit making her way into the room. You know the one. I stopped, knowing that she didn't fit in with my new commitment to love me - now - as I am, not as I was or as I could be. I placed my hand on my heart and said a quick prayer, then smiled into the mirror and purposely looked for a few things I love about me. The smile crept from my lips to my eyes as I recognized a woman I really like. Me.

Then, I tried on some clothes. Some of them made me laugh, bringing back memories of really funny clothes shopping trips with my mom. Some of them went in the "Heck, No!" pile. But some of them looked great so I bought them.

This is a very personal experience - but I shared it because I don't think I'm the only one who has to exorcise personal demons when shopping/or dressing/or showering/or having sex (YES - I said the S word!). I hope it will be an encouragement for all of us to find a person we love as we gaze into our mirrors - and that he or she will be the person we are right now, not who we were or who we hope to be someday. I hope it will be an encouragement for us to daily choose awareness, joy and love - with abandon.

Ruben's Venus at a Mirror

By the way, I looked up voluptuous in the thesaurus. Here are a few of the synonyms I found.
"appealing, attractive, delightful, desirable, enticing, erotic, sensuous, sexy..."

I can live with that.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is my 35th birthday and it's a particularly good birthday for me. I woke feeling joyful at the morning light streaming through my window onto the faces of my beautiful girls and husband. Then, I slipped from the bed and started the morning alone - hiking, reflecting on my life so far.

This year feels different for me. I think a lot of it has to do with a transformation that's been taking place inside me for a while. I've wasted a lot of my life - years really - wishing for something I am not. I'm not saying I have not enjoyed my life. It has been amazing so far, filled with love and accomplishment.

I've had jobs I've loved and jobs I've hated. In them, I discovered that I love aviation, travel and that I'm really good at learning new things. I attended a university on a scholarship which allowed me to sing my way through school and still study what I enjoy most (stories about people -- also known as History). In my latest job, I get to sing beautiful music - then stay home and play with my kids. In all these places, interesting and wonderful people from all over the world have contributed to my personal and professional growth.

I am LUCKY in love. Ten years ago this year, I married the one my soul loves. He is handsome, kind, SMART, talented, fun, loving, gentle - strong. My heart melts when I think about how he loves me. Our two precious girls fill my days with joy and laughter. My friends and family bless me with their love. I have a home in what I consider the most amazing country in the world. I am so fortunate. I frequently give thanks for these blessings.

But, for a long time, when I looked into the mirror, I didn't see a happy, accomplished, beautiful friend- mother-lover. In a Puritanical fashion true to my upbringing, I saw only my failings and spent most of my time worrying about how to be a perfect version of me - thinner, more organized, quicker on my feet, less self-conscious. Of course, I imagined life would be even more fulfilling if I could somehow just be 'perfect me'.

How did I get into the habit of wishing for a different version of myself? Maybe it was the way I was raised. Maybe it was mental laziness. Or maybe grief got the better of me for a while. Regardless, in worrying about the future, I lost the chance to bask in the light of the current moment.
 

Well, I'm done with wasting moments.

Today I'm giving myself a special birthday gift. From this moment on, I'm setting myself free to enjoy me as I am right now. I'm going to start each morning smiling with pleasure at the face I see in the mirror and loving every wrinkle, freckle and stretch mark I've earned. I don't want to stop growing as a person but I will be content with who I am now and inhabit this moment - with my husband, girls, family and friends. I want my girls to grow up LOVING who they are, as they are, and they will learn that best from me.

I have a feeling this is the best birthday gift I'll get this year.

Happy Holidays - Really.

Lots and lots and lots of gingerbread!

This time of year, motherly duties get amped to a different level. There is a house to clean, laundry to wash, kids to manage, extra shopping to do, holiday cards to send, parties to attend (or throw), rehearsals and concerts to perform in or attend... That list could go on indefinitely. A lot of us cram activity into every corner of our calendar and drag our families along for the ride.

Instead of enjoying the events that should create positive memories for us, we can end up racing from one thing to the next - just hoping we'll finish on time. I get grumpy, overwhelmed and stressed out by my normal list of things to do, never mind a holiday list! Usually, I find myself saying a lot of, "Wait a minute," "Let me just finish this first," or "Shhh...Just be quiet for a minute so I can think!" By the time the holiday arrives, the preparation leaves me feeling exhausted and anticlimactic.

This year, we made a resolution at our house. Instead of spending our holidays racing around or acquiring new stuff (after all, we just got RID of a bunch of stuff), we decided to buy fewer presents - like two small gifts per child - and focus more on making little memories with our kids, enjoying each moment as it comes! We baked cookies, drove around looking for Christmas lights and picked out and decorated the tree - together. So, we broke more than one treasured ornament because my three year old is really fast and grabbed them before I could stop her. I wouldn't trade one moment to get those ornaments back.   I don't want to miss out on the fun the holidays are supposed to be because I was too busy planning for them to enjoy my kids, friends and family. Today is the day to start enjoying every minute of life!

Happy Holidays, friends. May you stop and breathe - and be grateful for the love surrounding you!

Making peace with grief...

I've been feeling really antisocial lately. It isn't that I don't want to be around people, it's that I've felt slow, weighed down. It seems like I have this little cloud over my head, like the one in the comic books. So, every time I sit down to write, even if I have something I want to write about, I haven't had the energy to do it. At first, I thought maybe it was some mild seasonal depression but I realize it's something else.

Today would have been my mother's 59th birthday. She died three years ago last month of colon cancer. The cancer was advanced when the doctors discovered it and we knew from the beginning it was terminal. Mom was diagnosed in the fall of one year and died the following fall. The week she was diagnosed, I discovered that I was pregnant with my first daughter. Talk about life's joys and sorrows being intertwined. Thank goodness for some light in a dark time!

While I was so glad to know we were expecting a little bundle of sweetness, the joy was muted by the knowledge my mom might not get to meet meet her and definitely wouldn't be around to be a grandma. I spend my time trying to focus on the happy moments I had left with my mom. But, the helpless feeling of watching her live her last days in so much pain was excruciating, not to mention the uncertainty of not knowing whether or not a bad day was "really it". It was an emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

I realized that the darkness I've been experiencing is that muted feeling I had when I knew I was going to have to say goodbye to my mom. Every time the air turns crisp and cool and the leaves fall from the trees, I start to get the feeling something bad is about to happen and I feel so helpless. I don't like it.

So, last night as I lay in bed with my arms twined around two warm little bodies, helping them drift off to sleep, I tried to figure out how to deal with this. When I was younger, I would have invoked my faith and said, "My mom is in heaven (with my dad and brother) and they're happier there. It's selfish for me to be sad." But, I've lived a little since then and things are a bit more complicated than that. I don't have an easy answer because life is a combination of joys and sorrows, mundane and profound, gain and loss. Believing in something beyond this life doesn't mean the pain of saying goodbye just disappears. I miss my mom.

But, for today, I will acknowledge the ache and empty place that losing my parents has left in me. I will grieve when I need to grieve, sob when I need to sob and yell when I need to yell. But, then I will get up, look around my life and sing for joy at the beauty I see in it.

Just for today, I have an incredible, loving, strong, gentle,fun, wise (need I go on?) husband who is the match to my soul, the shade of my heart. Just for today, I have two lovely children, who teach me, amaze me, challenge me, make me laugh. Just for today, I have great friends, an extended loving family, a wonderful home, great job (complete with more truly amazing friends). Just for today, I will be grateful, I will smile and I will enjoy this day.

I may never shake the sadness that the winter brings, but as it becomes a part of me, I will learn to balance it with gratitude for the woman who brought me into this world and the woman she is helping me to be even now that she is gone.


Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

I DO still have a brain!

Every week, I run into moms who are so tired and worn out, they don’t know which way is up. When I ask how much time they get alone, they often respond by laughing hysterically or by saying they don’t have time to fit that into the schedule. So…I’ve decided to post a “Take Time for Yourself” reminder every week – to remind me to take time out and encourage my friends to do the same! It rejuvenates me so much, I feel like I could run a marathon afterward. (Ok, that may be a slight exaggeration…but I do feel so much better!)

This week, while sipping tea at my local hangout, instead of internet surfing/post writing/Facebooking, I had a lengthy conversation with a doctoral student who is working on a groundbreaking medical program. The possibility it has for changing medicine as we know takes my breath away – really! I didn’t ask his permission to post an explanation of his work so I won’t go into it. But the details of his dissertation don’t really matter as much as what that conversation did for me.

Since having my first daughter, I often feel like my brain is too fried to process the kind of research that interested me prior to her birth. But tonight, for the first time in a long while, I feel fascinated, challenged and excited about something that fuels a passion in me – living life to the fullest and encouraging others to do the same. Part of that passion is related to individual health.

For me, health isn’t the absence of being sick. Health is respecting my need to nurture myself in three major ways – mentally, physically and spiritually (not necessarily in that order). Tonight, by engaging in a lively conversation with someone far more knowledgeable than me, I rediscovered a part of my brain I thought might be dead forever. (What a relief to know it’s not!)

In fact, I feel so good, I think I may go for a ru - I mean a hike!

Mirror, mirror on the wall

A few weeks ago, I admitted we were addressing a new dynamic in our family circle – in the form of our daughter’s fervent determination to assert her opinion. My husband and I reviewed her schedule and some changes that resulted from the addition of a new baby to our family almost a year ago. Realizing our three year old was getting shorted on sleep and attention, we’ve done our best to maintain a regular routine and pay her more attention.

But, the more I listen to the exchange between us – she and I - the more I realize it is I who need to change. More often than not, when she gets feisty with me, I get irritated with her, rather than teaching her a better way to approach the situation. Predictably, she reacts by escalating the emotion (and volume) of our encounter. And, believe me, she escalates like a true diva! When it happens in a public setting, I feel pressure to deal more harshly with her, as though some unseen eye is judging my value as a mom based on how hardcore a tantrum my daughter can throw and how serious a disciplinarian I am.

Why do I respond this way? Why feel pressured by an invisible critic to parent in a way I abhor? I love my daughter and deeply believe in gentle parenting. I want to treat her the same way I would like to be treated. I want to take the time to listen, respond and teach by example and in love. Instead, I hear my voice saying harshly, “Enough! No more whining!” “Pick these toys up, NOW!” or “HURRY UP! We are going to be late!” Ugh. Not the image of Zen motherhood I imagined before reality actually descended upon me!

In reality, the times I’m most irritated with her have little to do what she’s actually doing. Usually it’s a secondary reaction to a decision I’ve made. If I’m running late, a slight delay on her part cinches the deal. If my house is messy (because I neglected to get up earlier than the girls and deal with it), her toys on the floor make me crazy. If I choose to stay up past my bedtime to get some time alone and wake exhausted, her being tired and whiny sends me right over the edge.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not sitting here beating myself up. Well, maybe a little. But mostly, I’m just realizing that motherhood, like other great challenges in life, has a way of illuminating the areas in us that most need attention. I am definitely not the one with all the answers. But, for this moment, I’m going to be humble, acknowledge my shortcomings - and forgive and love myself in spite of them. And the next time my daughter throws her whiny voice my way, instead of getting irritated, I’m going to stop what I’m doing, lean down, give her a big hug and figure out how we can fix – whatever it is - together.

Going all "Oprah" on you.

Ahhh…alone at last. It’s been at least two weeks since my last mom’s night out ALONE and I need it badly. Since my last freedom night, I’ve weathered two sick kids (and husband), everyday life with small people, a trip to Disneyland and a concert in which I had a major solo and a major sinus infection at once. WHEW.

The result of too much time serving and not enough time in solitude is me - sitting here with a blank mind – and not the kind that comes from the careful practice of a spiritual discipline. I am experiencing the kind of mind numbing blankness that comes from spending all my time wiping runny noses, changing diapers, surviving tantrums and day-long drives with a ten month old. I parent from the time I wake each morning to the time I wake the next day!

A few days ago, I reached my capacity for “giving” without a break. I actually got up in the middle of the night (for me, that’s around 11 PM) to catch some time alone. After laughing through my favorite TV shows (thank God for the internet!), I finally went to bed around 3:30 AM feeling refreshed. It’s a good thing my husband was home the next day to let me sleep in!

Even though I know I need time alone, I keep finding myself challenged to actually take it. Without time alone, I can’t hear myself think. I can’t be the mom I want to be to my girls. I get so stressed I can’t enjoy my life right now – crazy schedule and house and all – and it is flying by so quickly.  I know I can’t be the only mom with small kids who has this problem so I’m going to keep sharing my experience as a reminder to me and friends with the same challenge. To be the best mom I can be, I have to take time to just be ME.

This week -

I WILL remember to take time to be alone. Even if it means I go when the baby's crying (she's with someone who loves her!) and the house is less than perfect, I'll LEAVE it all behind for a few hours.  I'll trade babysitting with a friend or let dad watch the kids alone for a while. It will be good for them!

I WILL NOT wait till life gets less stressful or busy. Chances are, it won't. I want to enjoy every minute I'm given with my family and friends. I'll take a break and come back feeling more equipped to handle it. I only get one pass at this life and I won't let it pass me by because there are dirty dishes in the sink.

Tree of Life

During my last pregnancy, I wanted to get a henna tattoo on my belly to symbolize the special journey I was on toward a different kind of birthing experience. In my mind, I pictured a Tree of Life, strong and grounded yet able to sway without breaking when the wind blew it. I imagined life coursing through its limbs, nourishing each twig and leaf.

Unfortunately, due to the crazy nature of our home environment before I delivered (drawn out construction etc), my plan didn’t come to fruition. But, during that time, when I felt my day careening off course, I closed my eyes, pictured my tree and tried to imagine the strength of those roots grounding me while a soft breeze refreshed me.

The amazing part of this story is that when I gave birth to my second daughter, my midwife offered me a look at the placenta. Then she asked, “Do you know there is a picture on it?” Surprised, I looked at what she was holding. There on its side of the placenta was an incredible network of veins which had nourished and sustained my daughter for nine months – in the shape of a Tree of Life.

I don’t think this is necessarily unique to me but it was a profound experience for me to see an image of the thing I had imagined all those months. In that moment, I felt an incredible gratitude and respect for this body I am privileged to inhabit – and its ability to create, nourish and sustain a tiny life within itself. Incredible.

The wise women in my life…

When I was in my early twenties, someone introduced me to the idea of learning life lessons from a mentor - a more experienced, wiser (hopefully) person. I didn’t really know how to go about getting a mentor but it sounded like a great idea. So, I asked a woman about ten years my senior if she would be willing to mentor me. She said she’d consider it and let me know. She never got back to me but years later, as a mom of two (she had three small kids), I realize what a sacrifice of time I was asking of her.

Although my friend didn’t respond to my request for wise counsel, my request for guidance didn’t go unheeded. In fact, at that time, I got not one but several wise counselors who made time for me regularly. They just appeared around me in various places – two work friends, a roommate, a colleague’s wife. At the moments I most needed a word of wisdom, it seemed I was surrounded with kindness, wisdom and grace.

These days, I don’t go around seeking wise women. They are all around me. Wise women come in all shapes, sizes and ages. Sometimes I know them for years and sometimes they just make a brief appearance at the time I most need them. Regardless of where I meet them or how long we connect they are integral to my growth as a woman.

While I appreciate and glean wisdom from most of the women I know, I am usually blessed to have a few close friends who I consider my "women's circle". Right now, I have at least three wise women in my life. They are all around the age my mom would have been had she lived and one of them was her dear friend. These are women who keep my confidences and women on whose counsel I depend. I want to honor these women for their friendship, their wisdom and their willingness to share themselves with me. I am deeply grateful.

Freedom!!!!!

Tonight, I left my daughter calling to me from the front window as I left for my “night out”. Not only was she crying heart-brokenly, she’d jumped out of her bath to chase me down – she was also naked. I pulled her little octopus-like arms and legs off me trying to convince her I wouldn’t be gone long, I loved her, to please not cry. My husband shooed me out of the house and I walked away wondering, “Am I a terrible mom for leaving her like that?”

The truth is, I haven’t been getting time away lately and I’m beginning to feel it. My humor, mental acuity and patience (not to mention romantic inclinations) all suffer without time away. We women have an incredible capacity to care for our families but we need to remember that if we don’t nurture ourselves first, we will have nothing left to nurture those around us. I find the more time I take for myself, the more I recognize the need to carve out multiple little spaces in my day to remind me that I’m more than just a mom.

The bonus for my efforts? I ran into a sister (easy to do when you have so many!), another friend - and met someone new. I returned after only two hours - feeling refreshed and ready to face motherhood again. Pretty good for a night that started with such sad drama!

So, to answer my earlier question…I’ll be a better mom to that crying girl in the window if I take the time to find the human, woman, friend, reader, lover etc. hiding somewhere inside me…

A new lease on life - from a simple cup of coffee

August 30, 2009

I’m sitting in my local coffee shop this morning, my last week of sabbatical from work, with a feeling of excitement and hope in my heart. It’s been about a month since I committed to a time of solitude every week and it's the best decision I’ve made in a long time.

This time to myself has brought about a change in me I really didn’t anticipate. It’s rejuvenated me spiritually and mentally and helped me to remember who I am. I recognize areas of my life that need attention and improvement. It allows me to be more efficient in my daily tasks so that I can spend more time with my girls. It’s given me the drive to get out during the week to see friends and create play dates for my kids. It’s even helped me to lose weight. I’ve come up with a new business idea and the courage to actually pursue it past the initial stage. As I spent this time alone, I found other pockets of time in my day that allow me brief respites which recharge me and help me to be a better mom, partner and person.

Thank you to me! :) – for realizing I needed this. Thank you to my coffee shop for providing the space and thank you to the babysitter for helping me to get out of the house. I am grateful and promise to keep doing it. Now that I’ve started I can never go back.

Weaning with low supply...

July 11, 2009

**SPOILER ALERT - squeamish men who don't think of women's breasts as anything other than sexual objects may wish to skip this post.

Deciding to wean after 6 months of exclusive pumping is a decision that leaves me with very mixed emotions. I first discovered I had low milk supply with my oldest daughter, though I hoped it was the stress of my situation at the time. My mother was diagnosed with stage four cancer the same week I discovered I was pregnant so I went through my whole pregnancy feeling a mixture of great joy and terrible grief. I figured the stress might have contributed significantly to my inability to nurse. I also had pretty bad PPD (big surprise!). I nursed, pumped and supplemented with an SNS for 6 months, hoping the supply would kick in at some point. My milk dried up completely the week my mom died.

During my second pregnancy, I tried to be very positive about my chances of exclusively breastfeeding my new baby but soon discovered I truly had a low supply issue. With both girls, I used herbs, fluids and galactagogues (foods to increase supply). The second time I tried a drug that increases supply in some women. The drug did the most to increase my supply but it was never a full one. My daughter didn't enjoy breastfeeding but was constantly frustrated with the low flow. I still had to supplement a 3rd of her daily intake. She couldn't transfer a full ounce of milk in a 45 minute feeding. The latter fact was still true after 2 months of trying to nurse, pump (to increase supply) and use a supplemental nursing system to deliver pumped milk and supplement. I decided at this point, for my own sanity, to pump exclusively.

Thanks to the MOBI yahoo group, my wonderful lactation consultant, loving husband and the encouragement of a few friends who truly understood my situation, I have pumped exclusively for 6 months. Now, I have decided to wean for a few reasons.
1. My daughter is starting to eat solids and trying to walk (OMG - so soon??!).
2. She drinks a wonderful, nutritive goat milk formula as a supplement and can transition to it as her main milk.
3. Her activity level has increased so much I need more time to keep up with her.
4. I want to get off the drug because I don't want to be on it long term.
5. I am TIRED of lugging my pump everywhere and pumping 6 or 7 times a day to get a less-than full supply.

Making this decision has truly been difficult for me because I so desperately wanted to nurse my children. If I were nursing, this wouldn't even be an issue right now. Even though I know in my head it's ok for me to let this go, when I look at my little one, my heart grieves. I grieve the nursing relationship we never had and I grieve the hours I didn't hold her because I was pumping. I grieve the nutrients she won't be getting because I just cannot do this for another six months. I grieve because I worked so hard to get this much milk and now I'm choosing to let it go for my own sanity. I have shed a lot of tears over the last 6 weeks as I've considered this decision.

As I ignore the ache in my breasts that reminds me it's time to pump, I am grateful was able to rent a killer pump that allowed me to feed my child when I probably wouldn't have been able to do so 100 years ago. I will remind myself that I am NOT a failure for quitting but that I did a good job. I will remember my lactation consultant's encouragement that the quality of my experience as a mother is more than just breast feeding her. Now I will focus my energy on nurturing my baby with my time and my arms. I am thankful she got the milk that she got and I'm especially thankful for the wonderful people who encouraged me to keep going when so many others made comments that didn't encourage so much. I know she will be ok.

Good friends, good food...

Today we spent time with some lovely people. I had the good fortune of meeting them through my parents, who knew them first, and have the honor of continuing that friendship now that my parents are no longer with us.

They are the kind of people who invite you over to relax, eat good food and enjoy good conversation. They are the kind of people who offer to hold the baby so you can eat while the food is still hot. They are the kind of friends who encourage you to continue to spend your energy raising and enjoying your children while they are small. They have the benefit of experience - they raised their children while starting a business - and are honest enough to share what they would have done differently.

I appreciate their hospitality, their advice and their love. We are so fortunate to be blessed with their friendship.

Recapturing - me

I’m sitting here at the coffee shop next to a Gourmet magazine. It’s beautiful. There are ice cream sandwiches stacked on the front cover, lemon ice cream sandwiches with blueberry swirl. I think the cookies are actually graham crackers.

I’m enjoying these moments of solitude and the bright, cheery atmosphere of this shop. I really like the people. The coffee is ok but it’s really the room I like. It's open with windows instead of walls. Most of all, both the baristas and the customers are really friendly here. Nice. It’s not pretentious.

I’m spending this time alone at some point every week trying to recapture the part of me that isn’t a housekeeper, wife, mom. In doing that, I am hoping to find out what I’m really good at. After my babies are a little bigger, I’ll need to find some kind of gainful employment and I don’t really know what to do. Maybe if I just list a few of the things I enjoy, I’ll get some ideas.

Here goes…

I love hiking. I love the solitude (I hike alone), I love nature, I love the chance to connect with God or the creative force that surely binds us all together.

I love to garden. I’ve never really been able to do this regularly but it’s my goal. I love touching the earth. I have a passion for sustainability, for nurturing something green and growing. It feeds my soul.

I love to read. I love information. I love novels.

I love to research women’s health topics; physical, emotional, spiritual.

I would love to be more involved in helping women to succeed both in our culture and those around the world - to have lives they enjoy.

I love my children – so much. I know this is supposed to be about me – but they are the light of my eyes. I love to figure out what they need, how to help them be the best version of themselves. I know to do that, I have to be the best version of me.