Sewdone

I bought a sewing machine last spring. Last week I finally attended the class to teach me the basics. It was informative. There is so much information still to learn! It's fun to be at the beginning of a learning curve. I like to learn. (I like to learn the things I pick to learn.)

Thus far I've sewn a skirt and some curtains to cover up the cat litter box housed under the bathroom sink.

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I hate being misunderstood. I sometimes think that when someone appears to misunderstand me, that it's a failure on my part to explain properly. However some people probably will never "understand" in the way I'd like them to no matter how explicitly I explain. This is sometimes maddening. This is something I struggle to let go of. I can't change other people nor should I be able to! Their opinion is their business; no sense in letting it ruin my day (or evening, or hour.)

Things happened today that I thought I could safely bring to a group I regularly meet with tonight. I shared what was going on and was stunned to hear their take on the situation; they didn't seem to share my opinion that it was a big deal! Part of me never wants to return and part of me says, so what, people will think what they think. I know what's true and so does God and why can't that be enough? I guess maybe the disappointment was that I had an expectation that they would support and pray for me. It's really been messing with my head, though, because now I'm questioning myself, wondering if maybe I'm overreacting? I really don't think I am - and neither do the other adults in the situation!

I don't know. I just want to be free of the constant mulling over my brain is doing. Turn it over. Let it go. Keep on acting how I choose to act and let it be okay for the ladies who I see once a week to think and believe whatever they want. I just hate being misunderstood, if I was. If I wasn't then I'm even more mad.

I feel like I don't become truly angry about very much, but this situation had to do with my daughter and I feel my responses were completely appropriate and justified.

Alright fine, God. Take it. I don't want it. I hoped writing would help.

The Sock Thrower

Remember that story about the man who was throwing starfish back into the ocean? No? Then here. It's been adapted many ways. Here's one adaptation taken from the Wikipedia page I just linked to, in which the star of the story is a woman:

An old man had a habit of early morning walks on the beach. One day, after a storm, he saw a human figure in the distance moving like a dancer. As he came closer he saw that it was a young woman and she was not dancing but was reaching down to the sand, picking up a starfish and very gently throwing them into the ocean.
"Young lady," he asked, "Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?"
"The sun is up, and the tide is going out, and if I do not throw them in they will die."
"But young lady, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it? You cannot possibly make a difference."
The young woman listened politely, paused and then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves,
saying, "It made a difference for that one."

I've decided to change my perspective. I don't have a starfish problem. I have a dirty sock problem. I don't have miles and miles of beach. I have inches and inches of counter with stranded cereal bowls littering its surface. Many times throughout my day I've found myself thinking "I cannot possibly make a difference." My pattern in the past has alternated between working feverishly on one thing and ignoring all other needs or giving up entirely and doing nothing. Neither of those approaches work very well for me and it's taken me five or so years to come to that conclusion. I'm ready to do something differently, even if it's only in the way I think. Especially if it's only in the way I think.

It's been quite difficult for me to dissociate my worth from how successfully I do or do not do things. This worked very well when I was employed doing something I enjoyed and was good at. This did not work so well when I became employed in service to my family as a home "maker." The repetitive household chores necessary for life to run smoothly just do not appeal to me. At all. Not even a little bit. I derive no satisfaction from cleaning up after other people (or even myself.) It has been a challenge and how I've viewed myself has suffered, accordingly. If I don't get to be happy with myself until ALL the laundry is washed and put away and ALL the dishes are clean... well then the times I get to be happy with myself are very few and far between!^1/2

Before we had children I made tasks like washing dishes and folding laundry slightly more palatable by listening to podcasts or audio books as I worked¹. I also wasn't nursing, sleep-deprived, responsible for keeping two little people safe, fed, clean (mostly) and healthy, or distracted by earnest questions from a 5-yr-old such as, "but what is gravity MADE out of?!" Additionally, Superman usually helped. We both had full-time jobs. I didn't like doing dishes or laundry but it was manageable. Then I grew a few kids, stopped working for a paycheck and suddenly it all became my responsibility².

Keeping the starfish story in mind, I now tell myself that no matter how many times a dirty sock may climb back out of the waves to beach itself upon my couch, or behind the toilet, or under the kitchen table... I can choose to pick it up and each time it will have made a difference for that one. Even if it's the same one. Multiple times a day. Each time I wash a dish it will have made a difference for that one, that time. All my precious little starfish... the paper scraps... the dirty underwear... the books... the stuffed animal... the cat toy... the pile of crayons... let me throw you back where you belong. It makes a difference every time.

This intentional shift of perspective has helped my expectations be a tad more reasonable. It's also given me the freedom to do what I can and accept that I may never have all the socks clean and folded and put away³.

Surprisingly,  I've found I've been able to do so much more as a result. I've been freed to do more. Now that the pressure is off to get ALL the starfish back where they belong TODAY (which is an impossible expectation), I'm able to slow down and enjoy the process. Yes, I sometimes enjoy folding laundry and doing dishes. Whether or not I get them all done that hour or even that day has no bearing on my worth.

I'm learning to consistently find my worth in someone far more substantial than any of my accomplishments - a loving higher power.

Along those lines and with a lovely additional point, I highly recommend reading this post, by Kathryn Thompson at Daring Young Mom. It's long but the ending is so worth it.

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^1/2Unless anti-depressants are involved and even then I wasn't convinced happiness with myself was an option.

¹Now I choose to remain unplugged and available during the hours my kids and husband are awake and home.

²Which I initially agreed it should be. We're still working out the kinks in the balance of responsibilities we both have, as well as our skills and personal preferences.

³Until I train my children to do it all!

Keys to joy

88 wonderful (electronic) keys are back in the apartment and I am quite thankful for the return of my parents' keyboard. Judging by the number of spontaneous dance sessions today I think the girls are, too. All that needs to happen for optimal keyboarding is the soldering of one side of my headphones and hopefully that will happen tomorrow, with the help of my dad.

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I lately feel as though I'm approaching life in much the same way I approached college final exams. I knew they existed and would eventually come to pass, but I tried not to think too much about it and many times spent hours and hours doing just about everything else INSTEAD prepare or study for them. I did manage to acquire a degree in biology with a fairly average GPA (the "just about everything else" often included playing volleyball at the conveniently-located beach.) I'm not sure what that says about a) the difficulty of the exams or b) my intelligence or c) both.

I arrive at the start of each day and for some reason I feel like dragging my feet. I want to put it off. I'm afraid to dive in? Or it's too threatening (!?) to face head on. Or maybe I'll fail? At... something? I'm not sure. I have a hunch it has to do with the fear that I may just maybe might possibly not do something "right." So then I feel hopeless. And do a lot of nothing or whatever is the bare minimum.

It's not really that great of a system. I'm not happy with it. I'm not happy with the resulting effects on my kids and husband. Also me. I miss joy.

Parenting and stay-at-home-momming is intimidating to me. It doesn't really come naturally, at least not all of it. I guess I haven't managed to work out a reasonable set of expectations for myself, yet. Especially expectations that don't hinge (almost entirely) on what my husband thinks I should do or be. Or expectations that result from comparing myself to whichever wonderful friend I have who excels in whatever area I'm mulling over.  Or comparing myself to my mom, or his mom, and what she would do. 12-step recovery work has helped in this regard.

I've been slow to warm up to parenting and stay-at-homing. It was hard for me to leave work, where I felt like I was part of a great team that was doing measurable GOOD in the world and I got PAID for my efforts and there were attainable goals and measurable progress and clear expectations. I knew what to do to make and keep people happy! That's almost always never the case here at home. I don't even know what to do to make and keep ME happy (hint: trying to keep other people happy isn't the solution.)

Parenting is kind of muddy and messy and it's pretty much all I do. That and however much of the house I feel like maintaining, which hasn't been very much, lately.

I'd LIKE to believe that "my best is enough" but that's kind of at odds with a belief I've had for decades and have recently been trying to get rid of: "you're not done until it's perfect" (how's that one for endlessly depressing?!)

But, through all the muddy and messy parts of parenting and stay-at-home-momming, I'm pretty sure I've come quite a long way in learning more about myself and others and the experience has made me a slightly more well-rounded person. So I guess I'm thankful for that.

But I really wish I could shake this hopeless feeling. The endless, repetitive cycle of chores that are NEVER done, doing them over and over and over again, and even if something is temporarily "done" then I'm probably forgetting something else... it really wears me down.

My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough. My best is enough.

Self care

I've heard from more than once source that September can be a tough month for people who are already prone to mental imbalance. Something about the light. Heather mentions it here.

I think I've been doing pretty well, all things considered. Some things have slipped, but I'm trying to practice radical self-care (as Anne Lamott calls it) and allow myself the grace God's already given.

I don't deal with change particularly well and boy has our schedule changed over the past few weeks. During the summer the only things we did with any regularity were swimming lessons, church and recovery meetings. Now Val goes to kindergarten every weekday morning, Elaine goes to preschool on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings, AWANA is on Sunday evenings (where I am a Sparks secretary), swimming lessons for both girls are on Tuesday afternoon, BSF for Elaine and I on Wednesday mornings, Superman and I are attending a once a month couples class on Monday nights, the other Monday nights I go to a CoDA group, Tuesday nights we go to a church-related small group in someone's home, Wednesday nights Superman goes to a mens group, Thursday nights he leads a  junior high boys small group, Friday night we all go to Celebrate Recovery, Saturday night is church and on Sundays I go to a different CoDA group while Superman returns to church for the junior high service. We walk or ride bikes to and from school on Mondays and Fridays and have a preschool carpool on Thursdays. And of course I'm still responsible for staying on top of the laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning and food preparation (school lunches every day!) and showering once in a while.

Sometimes I just need to look back and realize all this change and say, "Oh yeah. Look at all I'm handling and dealing with now that I wasn't just a few weeks ago. I should probably be kinder to myself."

Anyhow, September is almost done and it's felt like a whirlwind. I've needed medication on many days, and was thankful to have it. I look forward to this all feeling normal instead of overwhelming.

It's been just over one year that I've been in Codependents Anonymous and the next time I meet with my sponsor (which should be on Sunday) we'll cover the 12th step. I'm grateful for the progress I've made in my recovery work but I still need to keep the perspective of it being a process, a journey, not something I'll arrive at one day and be done. I keep thinking that's how life works (magically "arriving" and being "done") but it just isn't. I'm getting better and better at embracing this.

IKEA

Today we spent a few hundred dollars at IKEA and Superman spent a few hours building things. The only thing left to install is this (just one row) which I LOVE and will use to display the kids' artwork. That will free up space on the fridge for my collection of various comics I've deemed worthy of lamination.

It's been a long time (or maybe it's been never!) since I've had a house that wasn't under construction AND have had motivation to really put thought into decorating it AND have had the money to do so! I'm actually having fun with it which I find somewhat surprising. Maybe this homemaker thing really IS for me. Who knew?!

Things I like

I love these products so much I thought I'd dedicate a blog post to them and maybe some of you will find them useful as well!

1. Water filtration system: Clear2O

Delicious tasting water in a matter of SECONDS - no joke. Very reasonably priced and the filters are replaced as they are used, NOT just after a certain amount of time has elapsed (something that's always bugged me about Brita.) We've had ours for a month and the filter replacement indicator is still over 3/4 full. The only possible downside to this system I can think of is that you'll have to fit the adapter to your sink faucet (the pitcher fills via hose which attaches to your faucet) which in our case required simply removing the aerator on the faucet and screwing on the one that came with the Clear2O system. It may not be so simple on a more "fancy" model faucet. We got the little extension hose, which I would highly recommend - it allows us to keep the pitcher on the counter while filling, instead of maneuvering it in and out of the sink. The water tastes amazingly good, which is saying something because I don't even like brushing my teeth with the tap water in our city - it SMELLS.

2. Reusable food storage bags: LunchSkins

I recently ordered a sampling of products from reuseit.com to prepare for daily lunches when Val starts kindergarten. I can't stand how much plastic I *still* go through in my kitchen, and Ziploc bags are the biggest culprit. I absolutely adore the LunchSkin bags. They come in three sizes and are dishwasher safe! I don't usually run them through the dishwasher as they usually just need to be rinsed out, but I love having that as an option if they're ever used to hold something really messy and tough to clean. They're made of a very durable-yet-flexible cloth - heavy duty, but not stiff and cumbersome. Additionally, they're made in the US! What's not to love?! Oh, wait, I thought of ONE thing that MIGHT be something not to love... the Velcro closure. It's very effective and also very loud and attention-getting if you're trying to open it in a quiet environment. Open it ahead of time if you're hoping to sneak some snacks without anyone (in my case, my children!) noticing.

Grace rules

I'm looking for a new rule to live by. I love rules. When you follow them, it's like a RULE that you're doing it "right" and therefore no one can mess with you. Nothing bad can happen because that's the RULES and you're following them.

For a long time (my life time) the rule I've subconsciously lived by (and recently not so subconsciously have tried to extricate from my brain) is this:

you're not done until it's perfect.

Hence, logically, tragically, depressingly... I'm never done. Never, no matter how much I have done, heck, even if the thing is done - I'm not done. Is or was it perfect? No? Well, then I'm not done. I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong so it can be a little closer to perfect next time. I should have done better. I should have foreseen the unforeseeable. I should have known not to say or do that. I should have planned for x, y and z.

I don't know what it's like to do my best and let that be good enough and just sit back and relax and enjoy the fruits of my labor. I can't enjoy. There is no enjoying. There's only "this may be nice but it's not good enough yet. Here's how it could have been better." I seriously can't think of a single thing I've done that I didn't have some amount of self-inflicted shame or guilt over not doing it better, even if "better" equals "humanly impossible." It's somewhat more terrifying when it turns out that it's just "beck-ly impossible" and lots of other humans can do it just fine. Because then, as you can probably guess, beck despises herself even more for not being able to accomplish something "perfectly reasonable, just look at all those (differently gifted) people skipping along."

I'm sure this perfectionism fed my depression, especially after having a kid (or two.) As any parent will tell you, the presence of a new baby often doesn't allow for even the most basic of things to be begun, much less DONE and finished. So I didn't do anything (or hardly anything) because why did it matter? I couldn't even pretend to be done with anything - dishes, laundry, housework... it was all overwhelming and insurmountable. It would never be perfect. I could never be perfect. I am not enough. My husband and kids deserve someone so much better than me. Etc..

My sweet husband and children have taught me so much about what love and life are really about. Without them I'm sure I would still be stuck. I am still stuck now, to some extent, but I'm beginning to see that I don't have to be like this. There are other, far more desirable and rewarding options.

Grace, being one of them.

Grace, being the one I just don't get.

And with grace, I think it's supposed to be like that.

I've known of grace all my life, but I think, just recently, I'm starting to live in and with grace. God's grace.

I can be done.
Jesus is perfect.
I don't have to be.

Singled out

I've realized something. Even though Superman does sleep here during the days that he's working (either 3 or 4 consecutive nights of 12-hour shifts) he's really not present. I'm pretty much a single mom around the clock. No wonder I'm tired and I feel like it's really hard and it's hard not to feel like I do all the work and it's not fair, etc., etc.. I used to think about his days on as a mini-deployment of sorts, but it isn't really, because he's still around to consume food, create laundry and mess up the bathroom counter. In thinking about it even further... we really do only see him for just about an hour per 24-hour period each day he works. The other time he's either working or sleeping. This whole work/life balance thing is tricky.

I'm wondering if we should get rid of one of our dogs. A few nights ago a neighbor called the police because of our dogs barking at 10:20 pm. I was at my parents’ house for the night and Superman had forgotten to feed them before he left for work so it makes sense they'd be feeling neglected, poor pups. They can go in and out of our garage, we usually put them in the garage for the night, but Superman didn't because he's gone for so long. I wish this neighbor would just speak to us directly, because I get that our dogs can be loud and disturbing, and I'd like to apologize or at least give them our phone numbers so they can call us directly first. Ambulances tend to set the dogs off in particular, and we live near a few medical centers. ANYhow. Someone (I'm assuming this same neighbor) left a relatively civil, anonymous note in our mailbox re: the barking dogs a few months after we moved in. They threatened to call the police if it continued to be an issue. We've made every effort to keep the dogs quiet. This is an older, quieter neighborhood and I want to respect the people who have lived here for decades. But whoever it is who has complained hasn't made their identity known to us and I find that irritating and somewhat cowardly. Completely within their rights, but dude! We want to make it right! We're home all the time - come over and talk to us.

Anyhow. The barkingest dog is Jackson. He's a piece of work, that dog. I love him and I've worked hard at making him sociable, but it's increasingly difficult to do that and take care of my kids and other responsibilities. I was in collage when I got him and had enough time to give him what he needed and he responded so well. I was hoping I could make him into a well-adjusted dog, but I didn't quite get there before I started having kids. Our bond has slipped over the years. Since he wasn't well-socialized as a pup AND he lost one of his legs before he was two, it's been tough to convince him that people in general are OK. (His parents were wild/roaming dogs in a rural area - I got him when my aunt caught him and his brother after his mom was teaching them how to harass my aunt's sheep.) He's not an aggressive dog, just insecure and fearful sometimes, which shows itself as lots of suspicious barking. He always barks at SOMEthing. He's not a mindless, endless, boredom barker. He just barks at things that do not necessarily necessitate barking at. I don't need to know every time someone walks past the house. If I were my neighbor I'd probably complain too.

All of this to say that, if I could find the right family to take Jackson, I would gladly send him off. He would be happiest with another dog (he relates and bonds to other dogs way better than most people, understandably) and on a large property on which he could tire himself out and then be too busy sleeping to bother with barking at every passing person. He's a German/Australian Shepherd mix, which makes him smart with a bit of energy, too. It's too bad he has just three legs because what he really needs is to be run every day, but the lack of leg makes that tough on him. Not that he won't try and do it anyhow, and he can, for a time, but not long enough to really tire him out. I can barely get him out for walks as it is.

Plus, we'll probably have to get rid of one or maybe both dogs the next time we move and since I know Jackson would be much harder to place than Tbird, it would make sense to start looking sooner, right? *sigh*

I just don't know what the most responsible thing to do is. I know that he'd be taken care of at a German Shepherd rescue place, but would they accept that? It's not like I'm in dire straights and can no longer afford him. I feel like a bad owner, I don't want to just dump him off to be someone else's problem, but I really know he would probably be happier in a different place, and not a problem at all - if that place could be found. I guess I could call and see what they say. I don't mind keeping him until they find a place for him. My neighbors might mind though. =)

I'm trying to stay awake until midnight, when I can tweet something Eastery. I have an hour to come up with something.

Or less. I'm falling asleep. I did go to an Easter service this afternoon, so in that sense I've already celebrated and thus Lent is over for me. Right?

Of course right. I'm tired.

 



Freeeeee time

Want to know something totally wild? I'm done with all I had planned to do this evening and the next 30 minutes are mine to spend however I wish. I will go to bed at 10 pm and get at least 8 hours of sleep (not including waking up to tend to two snotty coughers) before my husband arrives home from work.

It really is nice re-realizing that I can manage time; there's no reason it should be managing me. Take THAT, time. Pah.

I'm such a procrastinator. I am sure this is partly due to the fact that I am a perfectionist. I've found that perfectionism tends to result in very bad prioritizing. Of course I must do every job perfectly, so what's this about time constraints and having to let some things go? Can't happen! I just won't sleep! Prioritizing is important when you're running a home with two small children, a cat (Methyl is, for all intents and purposes, lost. She is microchipped and I can only hope...), two dogs and a couple adults who like to speak to each other occasionally.

I'm working very hard on being an ex-perfectionist and happy "good-enough"ist. I'm slowly inspecting each of my limitations and trying to go right along and account (dare I say, PLAN?!? *gasp*) for my inabilities instead of cringing in horror at a FLAW in my very human character/personality and vowing never again to admit that I'm less than perfect.

Pathetic, I know.

I can't even imagine what I'd be like if I hadn't acquired a husband and a few children to wake me up to the cold, hard reality that I am not now, nor ever have been, remotely perfect. It's one thing to know that nobody's perfect, but it's quite another to repeatedly experience that YOU are not perfect, in fact, YOU are far from it. Again. Superman and the girls do that for me and I am grateful, most of the time. The rest of the time I'm trying to prove them wrong. (I'm a bit thick-headed.)

 

Why, Mommy?

I think every young child with an avalanche of 'whys' needs a scientist like Richard Feynman at their beck and call. I certainly would have put him to good use. I probably still would, now. Most of the time, I like to know why.

I have long since answered the what would your dream job be? question on various online surveys, "to hang out with kids and take all the time we need to help answer all the questions they have." Wouldn't you know it, I now find myself in that occupation 24/7. However you'll notice my dream job did NOT include cooking and laundry and baths and errands and wiping bottoms. So unfortunately Val's questions don't always get the thorough answers they so often deserve.

For some things (like when I tell her to do something) I don't always explain why, espcially if I sense it's a delay tactic. But I have incorporated an "obey first, then ask questions" rule and it's worked pretty well. I'm happy to explain to her why it is I've asked that she not stand on two stools that she's stacked precariously on top of each other, but I'd like the immediate follow-through to my command to get down, first. I'm not about to launch into an explanation as to why standing on such stools is unsafe... as if it is to be submitted for her consideration before she makes the final decision to get down or not. No. Not at all.

However, outside of those type scenarios she does ask why quite often and I do tire of answering her. I really, really try not to resort to "because" or "that's just the way it is" and though I've been tempted to follow in the footsteps of Calvin's dad for some things, I've restrained. My practice now is to keep giving her an answer as best I can and if the question is repeated, I will repeat my answer with different words or from a different perspective or add depth to it until she's satisfied and either stops asking why or makes some sort of observational comment that tells me she's happy with at least part of what I said. And of course there's always the, "why do you think that is?" which almost never fails to give me a glimpse into how her mind is working. I love that, and it helps me explain better when I see which direction she's going.

I hope to instill in my kids a love for knowledge and information, so they'll always be interested in learning, adapting and growing, as well as a love for reading, so they'll be able to research answers to questions on their own.

Resolve

Last year I didn't make resolutions; I just had themes. They were "simplicity" and "sincerity." I resolved to try and apply those two words to every area of my life in any way I could. I'm not sure how I did, but it made me think about all kinds of situations much differently than I would have if those words hadn't been at the forefront of my thought process.

This year I've decided on a couple goals.

1. Be attractive (or sexy, where applicable.)

2. Be intentional about living life offline.

If you have ever looked at me for longer than five minutes you are probably not surprised to learn that I have not really cared all that much about my appearance (clothes/hair/make-up) for the majority of my life. I come by this naturally as both my mother and grandmother will tell you they have better things to do than spend more time than necessary in front of a mirror. In fact, my grandma would quote this little poem:

My face, I don't mind it, Because I'm behind it; It's the folks out in front that I jar.

Just the thought of my mother or grandmother primping makes me snicker. It's not them. It's not me. The three of us are big fans of cleanliness (that Dutch heritage!) and functionality. If something is pretty in addition to being functional well then that's just a bonus.

However. Superman is less impressed with this perspective. I've always teased him that he fell in love with me when my wardrobe consisted largely of jeans and t-shirts so what's the big deal? Plus, I'm not all that interested in fashion, nor am I familiar with how to apply make-up and the most complex hairstyle I can do is a ponytail. Yet, the poor guy still complains that I'm just visually boring (well he doesn't say it like that but I can take a hint) and will even ask me to go shopping for skirts and dresses with him. So I go, trying not to grumble about it, and inevitably return with cute clothes that I never wear.

I have a list of excuses as long as my long arms as to why it makes no sense to put effort into how I look. Sleep being more important has topped that list pretty much since the day Val was born. Yet several of my friends manage to look put together and they have kids closer in age or more kids than I do. So obviously I can't get far with that one.

I've decided enough is enough. I'm doing it for me just as much as I'm doing it for him just as much as I'm doing it for my poor daughters who are bound to follow in whatever footsteps I leave. I've resisted being "pretty" in the past because I've seen it as a whole lot of work I didn't have time to do and why should I change who I am just to make my husband happy? It's so superficial. It's not like Superman thinks I'm unattractive. Clearly.

What really got my attention was when someone got me to think about it like this: I am a billboard for what Superman finds attractive (inside and out.) It doesn't matter who sees me or how well they know me - anyone looking at me can probably safely assume that Superman chose me to spend the rest of his life with because he was (IS!) attracted to me physically, emotionally, etc..

WELL. I can't have people thinking that Superman's a dummy can I? I can hear it now... what? That man thinks that unkempt, frazzled-looking mess of a woman is great and wonderful? Huh. I guess I just don't see it. Her personality must be pretty outstanding to make up for all THAT.

So that's goal number one.

The second goal has to do with a fresh realization that if I'm not careful the internet, email, online projects, RSS feeds, social networking - all of it - can pretty much entirely consume me. I've referred back to this article again and again because it's so true. Unfortunately it's pretty unrealistic for me to completely abstain from online life because part of it is very necessary. This is what makes my struggle to maintain balance so difficult and this is why it's my second goal.

I've made rule after rule after rule about my internet use and have found (mostly viable) reasons for breaking every single one. So I've concluded it's not going to be as easy as just making a rule. Or if it is then the rule is set appropriate priorities and practice them! There are times I'll have to jump online to get something and it's those times I will have to jump right back off.

Lately I've noticed a sense of entitlement surrounding my online time. If I go without it for all or most of the day, well then I HAVE to have it that night - I DESERVE it. That may be true, but again with appropriate priorities. Sleep would often be a better choice than sitting hunched over a screen until my eyes bleed. I find myself often getting grouchy when an over-tired child or attention-needing husband interrupts. That right there is just not healthy. Of course I need time for me just like anyone else, but perhaps I need to make the most of what time I get and not demand more. I'm not going to be able to get ALL my projects done and have time to waste on Facebook.

So that's what I resolve for 2010.

Be pretty on purpose.

Throw more of myself into living and enjoying life offline.

What's your stance on resolutions? Did you make any and how did you do last year?

So THAT'S why it's impossibly tough at times!

I follow Gretchin Rubin on her website at www.happiness-project.com. She recently posted something that made me snicker: 12 tips to create a happier, more productive workplace! As you know, my workplace is my home. My job title includes everything from poop clean up and disposal to life coach/counselor to food preparation to activities director to whatever else needs to happen to ensure the health and safety of the two people "under" me who constantly behave like children (the nerve!) Let's look at these tips, shall we? I am defining "at work" to be the times I am home with our kids while Superman is also at work.

See if you find a way to answer "yes" to these 12 questions:

1. Do I know what is expected of me at work?

(Yes. Everything. All the time.)

2. Do I have the materials and equipment I need to do my work correctly?

(Sometimes. Sometimes not. Depends on who you ask.)

3. At work, do I have the opportunity to do what I do best every day?

(HAH. Not a chance.)

4. In the last seven days, have I received recognition or praise for doing good work?

(No. My daughter's definition of "good work" is quite a bit different from mine.)

5. Does my supervisor, or someone at work, seem to care about me as a person?

(Not really. More as a provider of food and clean bottoms.)

6. Is there someone at work who encourages my development?

(Not so much.)

7. At work, do my opinions seem to count?

(Not one bit. But fortunately I have the last word.)

8. Does the mission/purpose of my company make me feel like my work is important?

(This is quite possibly the only thing keeping me from quitting on a daily basis!)

9. Are my co-workers committed to doing quality work?

(Yes. Thanks Superman!)

10. Do I have a best friend at work?

(Does Facebook count?!?)

11. In the last six months, have I talked with someone about my progress?

(No.)

12. This last year, have I had opportunities at work to learn and grow?

(YES.)

Food for thought

We got a pretty rad double jogging stroller off Craigslist. The only (minor) downside is that the front wheel doesn't swivel which means in order to fully appreciate it I need to become a hard core jogger.

The past few nights Superman and I have gone for walks/runs around the neighborhood. I must say our new location is prime for runners and bikers. Lots of trails and wide residential streets.

I must also say that HOLY SMOKING COW I AM OUT OF SHAPE. I thought exercise was suppose to feel good? I was waiting for my flood of endorphins... and I'm still waiting. Instead all I got was the feeling of my absolutely-devoid-of-all-muscle butt bouncing around. So not cool.

I keep saying I'm going to plan a weekly food menu and then I never do because frozen pizza and Top Ramen takes way less thought. However, this is about to change, really, I mean it this time, and here's why: Superman is going to help. He's always the one who remembers to ask about food. Most of the time when he asks (at a perfectly reasonable time to expect an answer), "What's for dinner?" I generally reply by way of blank stare. I'm actually frantically trying to recall what we have in the house that is edible in order to throw together some sort of answer because clearly he expects to eat something for dinner. And until the words came out of his mouth I hadn't given it even half a thought. Besides, he's way better at coming up with appealing meals. I'm more than happy to prepare something I already know is going to be a big hit and therefore more worth while.

When it comes to food preparation I am firmly in my mother's school of thought: you spend hours (ok or half an hour) slaving away over something and then it's gone in 20 minutes and all you get is a pile of dirty dishes. Notice the martyr-like attitude? Slaving? Pile of dirty dishes? Woe is me, because I'd rather be doing 97 (or 14) other things! My mom is still a much more healthy cook than I am and nothing compares to her homemade bread or cinnamon rolls. I'm just saying we are more likely to enjoy serving in other ways.

It would behoove me to follow the example of my super mother-in-law, who adores being able to prepare food for the people she loves. It is her true privilege and joy and it goes right along with her nurturing personality. It is impossible to visit her home without feeling loved, accepted and fed emotionally and physically. Her reward is the words of praise and appreciation for her cooking, the conversation during the meal with those she loves - that's what motivates her to wash dirty dishes. My friend once described a visit to my mother-in-law's home by asking in amazement, "did she just hug my soul?"

So yes. Food plan. Weekly menu. I'll sit down with Superman and together we can put together a healthy and delicious menu. Then we'll go shopping. Then we'll follow the menu and live happily ever after and no food will ever be wasted or thrown out. Amen.

SAHM

Rough day. Especially for Val. Many out-of-control screaming sessions today (just Val was screaming, though I felt like it at times.) It's wearing on her, this being in limbo thing. I cut her slack where I think it's appropriate but there has still been a lot of screaming and flailing and even biting. *sigh*

I need to make more of a concerted effort to spend time with just her - talking, reading, playing. Now that she's talking it's pretty fun to carry on a conversation with her. Tonight she informed me that, "snickerdoodles make me happy."

Ugh. OK I'm typing with my eyes closed now because I'm too tired to keep them open.

Last night at the barn dance a couple at our table asked what Superman did for a living and then asked me if I had a job. "No, I'm a stay at home mom." Even as I said the words I felt like adding, "but I did work for several years at a really cool place that was relevant to my degree in biology." And I like taking pictures and writing and have a passion for documenting and preserving real-life sotries. Just because I'm a stay at home mom and the majority of my time is spent meeting the needs of my girls does not mean the only things I'm capable of talking about are potty training and sleep schedules and the best deal on kids toys or clothes. Often the conversation does go there, though, because it's an easy, obvious topic and who asks, "ok so what do you like to do OTHER than raise your kids?" I think it would take most moms by surprise. Very few would have a pre-formulated answer for that. (Ask me! Ask me!)

Why does it have to be phrased 'stay-at-home-MOM' anyhow? Why not 'stay-at-home-person'? I'm not saying I resent my kids or wish I wasn't a mom (though I have those moments too!) because I do think it's a huge responsibility and I am very excited and priviledged to be able to shape the lives of two little people who will become part of our future.

I guess I just wish it was more socially acceptable to say, "I'm a stay at home mom but right now I'd much prefer talking about anything other than that."

Babies don't keep

Balance is a constant struggle for every mom (that I know of, please tell me if you've figured it out!!!) and I often feel pressure to "do it all" even though I'm well aware it's physically impossible. Those lovely perfectionist tendencies kicking in again. (Pity my children.) This little poem helped bring some much needed perspective and even gave me permission to just chill out already and stop worrying about silly things like scrubbing out the cabinet under the kitchen sink or spot-cleaning the carpet. Maybe she was able to do it all until child number five but I'll bet she didn't have Twitter or Facebook as distractions, either! More on what I plan to do with those later. So for me this is a song for a second child, but really, I think it applies to any number of children. =)

Song for a Fifth Child

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

Identity

More than twice now complete strangers (the lady at the deli counter; a guy at the car dealership) have felt the need to ask my off-duty husband completely out of the blue, "are you a cop?" Of course he is. He was born to be.

The path he took to getting here was a long one but law enforcement was always something he's always wanted to do. Now that he works in this profession it's even more clear that he was made for the role. He was born to wear a bullet proof vest and gun every day. He was born to serve his community.

Family members have been saying that a law enforcement career would fit him his whole life and now his skill set is obvious to complete strangers as well. When those strangers received their answer, "yes, I am a cop," they weren't surprised. They already knew. Something about him and the way he carries himself made it evident to them. Oddly enough not a single person has asked him if he's in the military (we live by an air force base) - they always ask if he's a cop.

I want to perform as well as he does in the roles I've been called to fill. I want strangers to notice and identify me and what I'm about, even if I'm not doing anything obviously related. I want it to be that obvious. I want them to be able to look at me and think, "wow that fits her so well. She was born to be Superman's wife and the mother of their children."

Superwho?

I feel like Superwoman. Or at least Supermom. I'm recording this not to toot my own horn, but as evidence that it CAN be done for me to look back on later and gape incredulously.

Tonight Superman left me. He left me all alone with our girls to go help his Grandma move - a noble cause, to be sure. He goes back to work on Friday so I know the time is rapidly approaching when I'll be left for more than just an afternoon and evening with two little girls but I wanted to put off the inevitable for as long as possible.

Tonight, I figured I might as well go all out and see what happened.

I made soup from scratch. We ate on time. I gave Val a bath. During all this I comforted Elaine through various bouts of gas/poop which is completely miserable for all involved. (This is us.) I pretty much cooked and ate while holding the baby (and directing the "helpful" toddler.) I put Val to bed and she stayed there (!!!) AND fell asleep (!!!). Elaine is asleep in the swing. She finally took a Soothie pacifier (I've tried all kinds multiple times) and great rejoicing was (quietly!) heard throughout the house. I started laundry.

Huh. Well now that I wrote it out there it sure doesn't look like all that much, does it? And yes, the house is a wreck but I feel invincible.

Um, never mind. Elaine is screaming in the swing.

*sigh*

Retrospect

I've never been one for staying up late unless it's on some generic night when no one else is up and for some reason I either can't put down a book I'm reading or have spent hours on the internet doing whatever. But ask me to stay up for some super party and I'll feel tired thinking about it. This is why I am currently in bed at 10:30 with Superman and Tesla. The dogs are outside, though I wonder if I should bring them in. I don't expect fireworks or many loud explosions at midnight in our part of town, but Jackson gets anxious sometimes.

This past year has brought a much-anticipated and hoped for change in career for Superman and a pretty big career change for me too. Our first baby turned one year old and we became pregnant with our second baby. We've done essentially nothing new to the house which is understandable but also must change in 2009. We survived yet another set of seasons with nothing more than electric heaters and a single window AC unit to heat and cool the not-quite-all-the-way-insulated house. Tesla joined the family. Our baby learned to run and talk and climb out of her crib.

I try not to have resolutions for the whole year. Someone once told me they do monthly resolutions because it's more manageable and less to lose if you happen to fail. I like that.

I resolve to learn to use my DSLR camera more effectively in 2009. Because as it stands now my little brother knows more about it than I do after having read the very book I bought for myself to learn more about it. The nerve.

Change I can believe in

What do you do when you're trying to change something about yourself?

I'm trying to cut back on the amount of time I spent in front of the computer. I asked Superman what he thought and if he had any suggestions for me and he said he'd think about it. He hasn't gotten back to me. He is generally in the "well if you know what's wrong then just CHANGE it" camp when it comes to things like this. Problem = A. Solution = B. Do B. Yes, that is logical. I tend to think that way too and then berate myself when I lack the strength or will-power or awareness to always always ALWAYS do B.

I tried that with computer time. I find it's more complicated. Computer time is my "me time" too - it's part of how I relax and refuel. This website is a good example of that. However, there needs to be a better balance because what I'm doing now sure isn't working to my advantage. There are days when I don't really need the computer at all and there are days when I'm using it literally every hour - but for legitimate non-time-wasting things. It's the time-wasting I'm wanting to cut back on. It's a deeply ingrained habit that I'm not always conscious I'm doing. I'll sit down at the computer to pay a bill or to Google something (what ever DID our parents do without all-knowing Google?! Talk to people?!? Like in real life?!?) and before I know it I've also checked Twitter, replied to someone on Twitter, read my email, sent a long reply to one or more people, see if anyone's left me notes, scanned my Facebook home page to see if there are any new pictures or statuses to comment on, read through my RSS feed and then - boom - nap time is completely used up. There went all my time to be ultra-productive without a little person needing me or following me around 'helping.' There also usually goes my good attitude. I spend the rest of the day being grouchy and mad at myself. I'm rushing, trying to catch up and not spending as much time with my daughter as I would have liked and certainly not with the attitude I want to exemplify for her.

I understand everyone has days that don't go well but this should not be the norm. Many days of having an irritated, impatient mother will add up to a memory of a mother who was always irritated and impatient. I do not want K to have that memory. I've nailed superfluous computer time as the culprit. I've recently caught myself looking for even MORE ways to waste time after all the usual avenues have been exhausted. I think this might have something to do with the fact that I'm going to have a baby next month and moving around is becoming more and more physically uncomfortable and exhausting. Sit for a few hours with my feet up? Yes please! Still, I know there are better ways to spend my time and I'm working towards that end.

The only way I know how to change a habit of mine is to make rules for myself that I know will work and then follow them. Easy. This is only marginally successful because I have to REALLY want to change before I make myself follow the rules. If I'm not whole-hearted in my effort I'm the first (and in this case only!) one to break the rule. I made the rule so I should get to break it, right? Told you my self-control is pathetic. Accountability seems to be a big key to changing things, too. That's when someone ELSE holds you to following through with the rule and you're not free to just shrug and break it, unless you're also cool with shrugging to your accountability partner in which case they would probably shrug right back at you and tell you to call them when you're ready to be serious. Regardless of who I'm shrugging to, shrugging seems to indicate a person that's unwilling to change, doesn't it?

Imagining K with a memory of a mother who spent too much time staring at a computer screen while she grew up is enough motivation for me to just close the laptop already. I've been doing a lot better over the past few weeks and it shows in all the other things I've been able to accomplish. I'm bad at balance and moderation. I think having kids has helped me learn to be better about those things. I am by nature an extremist. A perfectionist. Either I do it perfectly or it doesn't get done or I do it imperfectly and therefore FAIL. Wouldn't you know that you can't "do" kids perfectly?!?! Nor do children care one iota about your perfect plan, whether or not it even includes them. Parenting has been eyeopening to say the least. I do know that no amount of computer time can make up for being there for this:

What ways have you found to effectively bring about permanent (emphasis on permanent, or at least mostly so) change in your life? Have you broken any bad habits? How did you do it? Were there steps? A process? What was the most difficult part for you?

I'm all ears.

Happy hour!

There's nothing like nearly burning down your kitchen to get your adrenaline pumping. I went from preparing dinner while feeling very slow and hugely pregnant to dashing around with scalding pots and pans while keeping a toddler away from the open hot oven door! Yikes.

It all started a few days ago when I was getting ready to host a backyard play date at our house. Given that the playing would all be happening in the backyard I suppose I could have relaxed a little on cleaning the house but whatever. You know how that goes. As it was dirty dishes were STILL stacked on the counter despite my attempts at a short-cut. There were just that many. I don't think a single one of the other moms cared. It's almost as if they came over to see ME and NOT my kitchen! Huh! Interesting thought. I'll make sure to ponder that as soon as my dishes are done.

Here's how I attempted to look more put together than I was: I stashed several dirty pots and pans in the oven. And by "several" I mean "as many as would fit." I had never done that before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. As I was doing it I had the sense to opt for the oven-safe pans as a precautionary measure. Even though I fully intended to address the dirty dishes problem before I next used the oven, you never know what could happen.

And happen it did. Out of sight, out of mind! Tonight as I prepared macaroni and cheese from scratch (with "help" from a 1.5 year old who wanted to "Watsh? Mommy? Watsch?" and by "watsh" she means "wave measuring spoons around and plunge them into or at any available ingredient at the least helpful time") I wondered what was taking the oven so long to preheat. I didn't realize it until I opened the door to insert my macaroni and cheese. Cue dashing around with piping hot pans while bellowing "sit down on your bottom and STAY THERE" to the helpful toddler wanting to join in on the excitement.

I'm happy to say that I only lost one lid (and fortunately it was the kind of plastic that did NOT melt into an impossible-to-clean-up puddle) and we are just about ready to sit down and enjoy the macaroni and cheese. Which turned out fantastically even with my additions of sliced tomatoes and bread crumbs on top and bacon bits through out.