To add or not to add, that was the question. Barstools that is.

We were remodeling our kitchen and stuck on whether to make an “L” shape for a fourth seat at our island.

That week, we also had been heavily discussing having a fourth baby.

“I’m worried it might be too crowded.”  He said.

“I’m worried we will wish we had added it later.  The time to decide is now.”  I said.

“Are we still talking about bar stools here?”

We had made lists- reasons to and not to have another child.

We’d been unable to let go of the baby stuff, but not yet ready to commit to another.

We’d had many late night conversations about it and then decided to give it some more time.

And now here we were, talking about bar stools, but not really.

We cut cardboard boxes into both the “L” shape and “space for 3” shape and placed it on top of the island cabinets.

The “L” looked daunting, but when my husband stood by that facade, he announced, “Yea.  This feels right.”

I looked him in the eye, smiled knowingly, and nodded my head “yes”.

Let’s add that fourth seat.  Let’s try for that fourth baby.

It feels right.

 

I am not a crafty person but desperate times call for desperate measures and that is precisely where I found myself this past week, scouring the internet for charts- Morning Routines, Bedtime Routines, Chores, Allowance and Behavior were the topics I was interested in; however I could not find a system that incorporated it all.  So I made my own.

My eldest is 5 1/2 now (don’t you ever forget that 1/2), and is highly interested in earning money.  I want to teach her how to earn money by working and yet I don’t want the EXTRA WORK of managing it.  I would also like a way to remember the nine steps we do every morning before school, but want her to be accountable for following them.  Finally, I want her to recognize that she can lose her money by being disrespectful- impatience, talking back, etc.

Introducing The New Leaf Parenting Accountability System.  It includes the following: Continue reading →

School is fast approaching and as a result, so is my child’s anxiety. Fortunately, I’ve been reading The Whole Brain Child by Drs. Siegl and Bryson this summer and have become familiar with the concept of “Mindsight” which they define as ” . . . understanding our own mind as well as understanding the mind of another.”¹ I have also learned about “The Wheel of Awareness” and have adapted it to work for my young daughter, who is entering Kindergarten.

My daughter has attended two years of pre-k at the same school so it isn’t as if this is totally new territory.

I began our activity by asking her to describe what she loves about school and drew illustrations in the center (I’m no artist).  She loves drawing, playing with friends, toys and playing on the playground.  She loves celebrating the holidays.

I then drew four paths to school and asked her to explain how she feels about going to school. We came up with “Happy, Sad, Curious, and Scared” and placed them in the color path of her choice. After discussing each path, I had her point to the one she would like to take to school, which, of course, was “Happy”.

I explained that sometimes we feel sad and miss mommy and walk along that trail and that it is ok to feel this way, but that after a short while, doesn’t it feel better to move on over to the “Happy” path? She smiled in recognition.

Fill the center. Every day we choose a path. Sometimes we get trapped on the broken one, but after while we do ourselves a service when we refocus our mind to the good, the positive, the things to look forward to once we reach our destination.

Siegel, Daniel J., & Bryson, Tina Payne. The Whole Brain Child: 12 Revolutionary Strategies to Nurture Your Child’s Developing Mind. New York: Random House. 

 

Jump. That is what we wish to do. Fast-forward. To the next job. The next partner. The next phase. The time-after.

In doing so, we miss the opportunity gifted to us. To learn.

Endurance. Love. Character. Depth. Grace.

Things we cannot rush.

Like Wine. Sewing. Teaching. Writing. Cooking!

I will never forget witnessing an experienced cook throw things together for dinner. I thought, “I’ll never be able to do that. No one ever taught me.”

Then I got married, then I had kids. Where did the time go? How am I supposed to learn now?

But I am. Slowly, but surely. I wanted to walk before I could crawl. I wanted to know how, before it was possible.

And isn’t this true about life? We focus on the end game and lose sight of the learning curve.

Few of us are prodigies. Most started with simple songs, simple sketches before we created our masterpiece.

The time is now to feel the moment we are in. To appreciate it for what it is.

The uncomfortable present. The gift.

Hey you- yea, you.  I’m your #1 fan.

He asks me who I’m “rooting for”.

It’s whoever is losing.

Dig deep.

Find you.

You and your potential- you’re in there somewhere.

I see you.

I’m your fan.

Now it’s your turn to see you.  To root for you.  To be your #1 fan.

You hear “You can be whatever you want to be!” or “There will be time for that later”, but how often do you truly believe it?  In high school we are groomed to find a college that will fit some far concept of what we “want to be when we grow up”.  And in college we are forced to choose a major at 18 years-old, as if we know what the next 70 years hold in store for us.  Once we enter the workforce, we get comfortable in our position or too fearful to leave.  We begin to invest in retirement funds and pensions.  We have loans to pay and children to raise.  So to the back-burner our dreams go . . . but does it have to be this way?

At some point, we lose sight of our heart’s true desires.  We may admire others who are pursuing it from a distance but we tell ourselves reasons why it cannot be ours.  We pacify ourselves by counting our current blessings and convincing ourselves that we don’t need those dreams to be happy.  But what if we itched that scratch?  Why are we so afraid of trying?  Why are we so afraid of change?

As someone with a fairly positive outlook on life,  I was surprised to realize the extent to which I actively shut-down my deepest dreams.  It’s not as if I can pinpoint a day I told myself “No”, rather it is the presence of a subconscious voice that constantly provides reasons why my dreams cannot be.

This “ah-ha” moment hit me within the last couple of weeks.  First, as I watched The Dave Matthews Band Listener Supported DVD.  Mesmerized as I experienced a symphony of music dancing in my ears, I couldn’t fathom how these musicians could be so in tune with one another as they improvised each and every song.  It dawned on me that they practiced.  All. The. Time.  They practiced.  They dedicated their life to what they love.

I witnessed this again as I watched The Masters on TV and reveled in Sergio Garcia’s win after decades of losing this tournament.  He kept trying and trying even as he played that 18th hole twice.  It was inspiring.

It forced me to try and remember what my dreams really are.  What did I like to play as a child?  What do I really want to do with my time left here on Earth?

I’ve always heard of age 50 referred to as “Over-the-Hill” but I’ve realized that by shifting my perspective to truly believing I’m just getting started here at 34, I have a whole lot of living left to do.  The last 34 years were just a warm up for the best that is yet to come.

So here’s my list:

1. National Geographic Photographer
2. Author
3. Master Potter
4. A Great Cook
5. Violinist
6. Pianist
7. Ukulelist
8. A wife and mother.

I’ve done a lot of these things as a child or in lessons, but I haven’t continued to pursue them,  So here’s my plan:

Now

1.  Make cooking healthy food a number one priority by using Lisa Leake’s 100 Days of Real Food Challenge cookbook and blog.
2. Continue writing this blog and continue jotting book ideas in my notes.

Soon

1.  Pick up the Ukulele in June and continue lessons online.
2. Start piano lessons again this fall.  Schedule an in-home concert to invite family and friends so that I have a goal to work towards finishing 3-5 pieces.
3. Purchase a very nice camera.   Read books, blogs and find lessons.

Next 1-2 years

1.  Be a wife and mother.  (just kidding  )
2. Find a pottery studio and get back on that potters wheel- I feel home there.

Next 3-5 years

1.  Buy a violin and start taking lessons

Next 5-10 years

1.  Write a book.

It’s time to shut that negative self-talk down.  It’s time to stop fearing failure.  It’s time to not just tell my daughters they can dream big, but to show them how their own mommy makes it a reality.

It’s time to stop taking each day for granted.

Today is a fresh start, as is tomorrow.

So turn over that leaf.  Write down your list.  And join me as we get busy living.

In all our 21st century inventions, it’s the one thing that has continued to evade us- the thing we cannot recreate, erase or prolong.  It’s immeasurable and invaluable- and somehow, we never feel that we have enough.

Time.

“Look at them,”  My father says as he watches my eldest daughters roll the ball down his billiard table while the youngest pulls every book off of his bookshelf.  “It doesn’t matter how many times you have seen this.  It’s incredible.  I just wish I could know them when they are 26, 28, getting married, having babies of their own.”

Anyone looking in would agree that my 85 year-old father has lived a complete and fulfilling life.  Five children, 10 grandchildren and two great-grandaughters – all healthy.  I envy his reign and only hope I can follow in his footsteps.

And yet as precious as time is, how unbelievable is it that we waste it on jobs we hate, partners we know are not good for us, choices we know are not right?  It’s as if we falsely assume their will be time for better decisions later . . .

Time has never seemed more precious to me than when I am on an airplane.  For whatever reason, it terrifies me and I am left wanting more time.  I want to be present for my daughters as they age- I want to witness their growth and change.  I want time to fish and hike with my husband and time to read on my own.

But even when you’ve had 85 years full of health and mostly happy memories, you still are left wanting and wondering what, if anything, comes after our time here on Earth.  What yet do we not understand?

All we know for sure of our life on Earth is now.  Our current time.  Are we appreciating it?  Reveling in it?  Not waiting for something better?  Making “the most” of it?

We must.  For anything less . . . is a waste of time.

 

“What a waste.”  I thought.  I’m ashamed to say it now that I know better, but back then, that’s what I truly believed.  My sister had a degree from the esteemed University of Virginia and she had chosen to stay home to raise her children instead of juggle both a career and her role as a mother.

I thought about this, recently, as Aurora vocalized her desire to be a baker with “Big Harper” (my friend, not her sister) when she grows up.  Back then, I would have encouraged her to set her sights higher- a doctor, a veterinarian, an astronaut and while we still discuss those opportunities, I embrace her current decision as a 5 year-old to be a baker.  Because you know what?  We need bakers.  And cashiers.  And trainers.  And trash collectors.  And salesmen.  And custodians.  And waitresses.  And hairstylists.  And teachers.  And mommies who “just” want to be mommies.

When did this job become not enough?  And not enough as in “income- earning” but as in “you got a degree what did you do with it?”  I have a B.A. in English and a M.Ed in teaching Pk-6.  What am I doing with it?

I’m raising the next generation.

I’m surrounding them with books.  I’m sharing my knowledge.  I’m using my critical thinking skills to figure out how I can raise my children with the perfect balance of exposure to the arts and experiences while still living “simply”.  I’m using my psychology classes to deal with epic emotional meltdowns on a face-to-face, you-matter basis.  I’m using my anthropology minor to teach my children about people around the world and what that looks and feel like.  I’m providing them the tools to discover their roles now and later.

Ignorance makes it easy to judge but once we know better, we do better.

So this is a long-overdue apology to my sister.  She’s raised three beautiful children- now teenagers, soon to enter adulthood where they will be faced with their decision of what they will do when they grow up.

I hope they follow their heart because whatever their role is, wherever their “place” is, we definitely need one of them.

 

Is it in inches?  Accomplishments?  Pounds?  Number of children?  Years married?  Diet choices?  Miles ran?  Miles traveled?  Degrees accomplished?  Job title?  Devotion to God?  Cheeks turned?  Concerts witnessed?  Art exhibits encountered?  Tribulations overcome?

How do you measure yourself?

As a young child, we compared ourselves to the fastest, the most popular, the smartest.

As an adolescent, the coolest- however, we defined that.

As a teenager, those we found our identity with- those with common values.

As a young adult- we struggled.  Was it our friends from the past?  Faith?  Parents? Partners?  The parents of our partners?  Our co-workers?

As a young parent- our parents?  Family?  Other young parents?  Other experienced parents?

As an older adult- Our God.  Our partner.  Our loved ones.  Ourselves.

We grow, we evolve and the ways in which we measure ourselves change, if only we allow it to be so.

We no longer look to the fastest, smartest and coolest- the skinniest, the most devout, or the most traveled.

We look inside ourselves to find the essence of our unique us.

We seek acceptance.  At first, by others but over time, by ourselves.

And in that, we find our place and happiness.

Cheers to what makes you, uniquely, you.