Month: February 2019

My Name is Lauren

Posted on by Lauren

My name is Lauren, but I almost forget that when all I hear is “momma” these days.

As a child, I was seriously invested in the welfare of others.

My step-dad had previously lived in Africa and returned with dozens of paintings peppering our walls, sparking my obsession with Africa and all of its wonders.

I wanted to be a National Geographic Photographer and I wanted to join the Peace Corps.  I came as close as joining the American Field Service (AFS) at 17 years old, living with a Ghanaian family for a month and working in two orphanages.

As a child, I rescued birds, dropped from their nests. I used heating pads and eyedroppers to try and care for them.  I taped plastic containers on top of the sand mounds the ants made along the short walkway to our home, so that they would be safe during the rainstorm.

I worked closely with the homeless at soup-kitchens and inner-city teenagers through a missionary church.

I dressed my dachshund and walked her in my babydoll stroller.

I published my very own magazines, full of articles and quizzes (“Does your dog a: run out and pee b: walk a short distance to pee or c: sniff each and every blade of grass, peeing on everything in sight?!)

I never wore shoes outside and gained notoriety for this (even today for my total lack of a shoe collection).

I played “teacher” and “store” almost every single day, complete with tests and inventory.

I played the piano, easily.

In high school, I was the lead in three school plays.  And I was good.  

I was smart, but unpopular.

And now, I am a mom.

Trying to teach my four daughters everything I ever learned while still learning on-the-go.

Trying to witness and support their innate gifts, while wondering where the hell mine went.

Wondering how I can lead by example, when all I seem to do these days is serve.

My name is Lauren, and I’m still here, somewhere.

I just have to make time to find her and teach my daughters to do the same.

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Follow Your Heart

Posted on by Lauren

It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to write.  And don’t we all experience those phases in life?  The tide that ebbs and flows.

I was chatting with another mom earlier about the prospect of my daughter joining a competitive athletic team.  She shared the benefits: learning how to lose, how to win, how to handle disappointment and support others, among other things.  They were great, valid points and I appreciated her input.  I always love a different perspective than my own.

But my response was, “eh”.  I like vacations.  I like lazy Saturday weekends as opposed to rushing to the field or meet.  I like dancing in my jammies with my kids in the kitchen while making pancakes in place of best times, trophies, baskets or goals.  I’m sure she does, too, to an extent.  But it all begs the question: To what end?

For her, the sacrifice of the initial investment is worth the long-time payout.

For me, the gift of today calls me.

I believe in trying most (good) things, at least once.  I believe in trying again, when you fail or are fearful.  I believe “real” work doesn’t truly begin until you push yourself out of your comfort zone.

It’s my responsibility to encourage my child to come into her own and to provide the resources available to help her achieve her goals.

But I also believe that we are each born with our innate gifts and it is up to us to listen to those gifts speak their truth.

So even though my daughter is gifted at the piano, I allow her to quit when encouraging her to practice overpowers her desire to play.

And when my other daughter has an anxiety attack over performing in the holiday production, I hug her and reassure her that, IT’S OK.  She doesn’t have to sing.

Because, at the end of the day, what is the End Goal?

For us, it is health, happiness and confidence- the ability to tune in to our heart- to pay attention to when it whispers and listen to when it roars.

Our hearts speak.

And it’s our job to listen.

If only, we could listen.

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Camille Vaughan Photography

 

 

Groundhog Day

Posted on by Lauren

Repetitive.  Monotonous.  Tedious.

Have you ever felt like you get up and do the same thing every day?   You wake at the same time, with the same morning routine, the same route to work or school  and the same way home.  You shop at the same stores, buying the same things and you wonder, “Is it Groundhog Day?”

I’m 7 years into parenting four young daughters.  As exciting as it is to witness our 9 month-old baby reach her developmental milestones, there’s a part of me that feels tired and worn.  Sure, it’s her first time, but it’s my fourth. Likely similar to how the doctor performing my gallbladder surgery this past summer felt: she had removed thousands of gallbladders over the years but not mine.

The question I’ve been asking myself lately is how do I get out of this rut?

Just as you aren’t going to quit your job or change your route to work, I’m not looking to give up my children or start a new career.  The changes I seek are small, not drastic.

Introduce a new breakfast.  Start a new exercise routine.  Schedule time during the week just for myself.

When I’m feeling out of control, I recognize that it is time to get back in the driver’s seat and make positive, healthy changes for my body and mental health so that I may approach the same old things with a fresh, new mindset.

Because when Elizabeth takes her first steps in the coming months, I want to celebrate that milestone with her with the same sincerity that doctor reassured me with minutes before my surgery: like it was the first time and not Groundhog Day.

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Camille Vaughan Photography