In the words of Kenny Chesney, I’ve gone coastal on ya.
I hope to meet you back here next week. As always, thanks for being here.
In the words of Kenny Chesney, I’ve gone coastal on ya.
I hope to meet you back here next week. As always, thanks for being here.
Thank you for being here, in this space with me.
Today, and over the past several days and weeks, I’ve been working on practicing what I preach. Life has reminded me that I too need to take the time to grieve through transitions and loss, through the endings and the new beginnings of the chapters of my life.
Sometimes, we are depleted and cannot give; sometimes, we are left clutching with white knuckles onto what little we have. This manifests in a number of ways, whether we notice them or not.
I have become fierce in protecting my energy this week, as much of it has been consumed by loss and endings. I have been focusing on important. I have been focusing on abundance in the space of loss, of new opportunities in the space that old routines once filled. I also need to start to conserve for the impending new beginnings that endings create the way for.
So tonight, I simply leave you with gratitude that you’re here and a reminder that you can only give from a full cup. I’ll see you next week.
I’ve misplaced my laptop’s power cord, it’s sitting at 29% battery and I’m just getting home from back to back softball games, so I’ll just leave you with this.
I see you Mama.
I see you, feeling drained, sitting among the permission slips, the sports gear, the calendars, the summer planning, the camp registrations, the daycare arrangements, the field trip reminders, the sign-ups for field day snacks.
I see you, and I want you to remember that another transition period is upon us.
I urge you to read, or reread, this post and remember that within the seasons of change, we must care for ourselves first and foremost.
However self-care looks for you, in whatever form brings you back to center.
Put your oxygen mask on first, before assisting others.
The next few weeks will be a whirlwind.
Nurture yourself through.
Last week kicked my ass in a very emotional and mental way. I stepped back multiple times and felt like I was absolutely and utterly failing at this mother thing. I asked myself over, and over, and over, “What am I doing wrong? What can I be doing better? What am I not doing that I should be?”
Motherhood challenged me last week in ways that I have never been challenged before. I had to learn to communicate and process things in new ways. I had to dig deep, and figure out a way to address the single worst moment in my parenting history. I have a lot to sit and get comfortable with, things that I am right now still wholly uncomfortable with.
I had to learn how to absorb an immense level of disappointment.
I’m sure that this will pale in comparison to things I will experience in the future, but I hope to hell not.
I struggle to put into words what happened. I hesitated to share even with my closest friends because I was afraid of the pain of judgement. Judgement of me, judgement of my daughter, judgement of my family and my inability to parent in such a way that could have prevented this. But, the reality is that I couldn’t; we did all the right things, had all the right conversations, but it still wasn’t enough. I’m compelled to share, to help other mothers navigate through or possibly avoid the same experience.
To summarize what happened, I discovered that my daughter and her friends had created secret social media accounts and were pushing out messages about themselves that were disgraceful, derogatory and shocking; the captions under normal, every photos of my daughter, and those that she wrote about her friends, gut me. (I’ll be sharing a bit more of how this all went down in an upcoming Burlington VT Mom’s Blog post, hoping to help other parents wrap their arms around the challenges we’re all facing with our kids’ use of social media.)
Know that I have no illusions of teenage girls, however, it is one thing to know what they are capable of and entirely another to see it very publicly displayed, and to know that hundreds of other people saw it as well.
I don’t think, even after numerous conversations, that my daughter understands the gravity the posts carried. To her, and those involved, it was all just a big joke. People thought it was funny. That’s all it was, to them. We have some lessons to teach.
I have struggled with my personal emotions for a week. I feel like I let her down somehow. That I didn’t have the right conversations with her, didn’t build up her confidence or self-worth enough. I feel like I failed.
I keep repeating over and over to myself that if you’re not failing, you’re not learning. That failing does not define you, but how you handle it does. My heart is hardly appeased by my mind. However, I know that if I were the recipient of this story, the listener versus the teller, I would say the following to you.
There are things in life that will be beyond our control. We will kick ourselves, make ourselves feel irrationally responsible. We will let the voices of doubt and self-criticism rise from the depths within us, and we will believe their validity.
We are not our children’s mistakes. We are not their poor choices. We have already made ours; our action now is in how we address, how we course-correct, and help them learn through the challenges. Our value is in how we help them grow from mistakes. We cannot fix things; we can only be here to support our children while they work through and experience these things for themselves.
If you’re ever in a situation that makes you question the foundation of which you have built your parenthood, I hope that you remember this.
You are not a failure, and you are enough.
This is not a how-to post, and it’s not about video games. This is purely self-serving and I need your advice. Short of hiring a family secretary, I need to know: how do you manage your family’s calendars?
The busiest season for our family has always been Spring. It seems as though every month feels stretched thinner than the last, but no months feel this way more than April, May and June in our family.
We have two daughters playing softball on two different teams, playing in two different towns every weekday night; on top of our own personal, work and social events, and my husband working over an hour and a half away, not to mention our three-year-old who brings her own personal agenda to the mix, it’s become a bit unwieldy. I’m not complaining, I obviously set myself up for this, I’m just trying to strategically manage the Tetris game that is our calendar and I know that someone out there must have a better way.
I’m a bit desperate to figure out how one of us doesn’t end up leaving a child stranded somewhere.
We each have our own personal Outlook calendars, and we each carry our own planners. We don’t, however, have a logical way to mesh these and our daughters’ games, practices, plays, concerts and the rest of the events in one place. We have tried a dry-erase board, we have tried Cozi, we have tried emailing each other the following week’s agenda so that we can both write them into our planners, but duplicating everything – whether it be digitally or manually or both – meant that we inevitably ended up forgetting to share something. Multiple somethings. Which inevitably led to some finger-pointing and frustration. For instance, I was supposed to have a work event this evening, but only found out yesterday that my husband had scheduled dinner with a client, which he is certain he told me about weeks ago. He likely did tell me, and it’s even more likely that I lost it in the shuffle. Kids’ schedules weren’t even involved at this point yet we still effed it up.
We’re currently trying Google Calendars, but we’re lost somewhere in the sharing process. We ideally need something that effortlessly exports to/from Outlook as that is the default method we are already utilizing that contains more than half of the data that we need.
So, I’m sending out this plea – especially if you’re savvy about this sort of thing, or if you have multiple children going in different directions and have a system that works for you – what do you and your partner/spouse use to keep everything in line?
I joined an Instagram headstand challenge yesterday.
When I started the Year Compass in 2016, one of my goals was to be able to do a headstand in 2017. I never followed through; I never even got around to attempting one.
I haven’t stepped a foot on my yoga mat since before the winter season started, and I haven’t been working towards accomplishing that headstand in 2018 either.
This challenge popped up and I hesitated; not because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to join (I have wanted to work up to a headstand for a few years, and these sorts of challenges have always motivated me more than I have been able motivate myself) but because it required that I post a video of myself attempting not just one headstand but a daily check-in of my headstand progression.
I hesitated not because I’ve never attempted a headstand in my life, but because I had a moment of pure self-consciousness. There are plenty of women out there killing their fitness goals; I am not one of them. Sharing my faltering starts was…intimidating.
I have to start somewhere, however, so I posted the video before any further self-doubt could creep in, and posting yesterday made it that much easier to post today.
And if there’s a woman out there who felt better about herself because she could attain a headstand better than I can, or for whatever reason might have felt superior to me while I threw my feet up over my head and my heels found the wall, more power to her.
We’re often so afraid of what others think that we cut ourselves off before we start. We don’t give ourselves a chance to even try, let alone practice, build a skill, gain the strength. We set standards against highlight reels, against those who have been working their asses off to get to where they are, and we somehow feel that we need to get there by some other smarter, quicker, more graceful way. Or, we just decide to not even try at all.
Chances are, there is someone out there who will be inspired by your effort enough to spark their own.
Who are you?
Beneath the titles that are associated with you, which could range from mother to wife to daughter to sister, they could encompass your occupation, and perhaps your hobbies; who are you beneath all of those things that you are to others?
Or, perhaps a better question is, who do you want to become? Who do you want that woman to be, the one that looks back at you in the mirror as you brush your teeth and apply your mascara? Perhaps you don’t even see her.
My middle daughter stated yesterday that she wants to be a preschool teacher and photographer. My eldest daughter has a running list of the occupations she’s entertaining. It’s emphasized to our children that they should have a goal to be “something”. However, as I sit here in all of my adulthood, I know that the label printed under my name on my business card is not who I am. It’s a piece of what I do, and perhaps that influences me, but it does not define me.
I was in a yoga class a few months ago (actually, this particular class was probably more than half a year ago now) where while we were all lying prostrate in savasana the instructor said (loosely) the following:
I’m not sure if it was the low intonation in which the words were delivered, or the words themselves, but they struck me deeply. Goosebumps and fighting-back-tears deeply.
We are none of those things, and yet, we believe we are all of those things, feel we need to live up to being all of those things flawlessly all of the time, simultaneously, simply a being with whom a list of labels is associated, who accomplishes infinite lists of things to be meaningful.
Anything that you can stop having, doing or being is a role that you play. Who are you without that role?
Have you taken the time to come up for air, and ask yourself that question? Who do YOU want to be?
I never stopped to ask myself this question; I performed in my given roles and didn’t operate much outside of the day-to-day that was right in front of me. I didn’t look too closely in the mirror.
I have been giving more and more thought to the woman I want to become; not a destination, but an ever-evolving view of what comprises me at my core.
When I started looking at what I aspired to be, it was interesting to discover how I operated in ways that were a striking contrast.
So, what can you do to be more aligned with the woman that you want to become? Not to be confused with trying to be someone else, but connecting with yourself on an elevated level. Are there small shifts that you can make now?
“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different?” – C.S. Lewis