The Night Before Kindergarten

We have been preparing for weeks, or months, well, truly, for years (read below). Tomorrow is the day. Peter will put on his backpack, make his way down the block, get on the big kid bus, and finally go to Kindergarten.

He is ready.

My head is ready.

My heart is so not ready.

I promised myself years ago that I wouldn't totally lose it when my kids would go to Kindergarten. There are so many parents who would give anything for this moment who won't see their babies until heaven. I get mine back by dinnertime.

And I have kept that promise, yet there is also a tug at my heart with all the feelings on the night before Kindergarten. Especially for Peter....

Because 5 years ago our world was rocked by his ONH diagnosis. I have written a lot about that journey, but this week holds a special place. One of the questions I asked early on, like any mom would even though no one can exactly answer, was "what will his life be like? "what will he be able to do or not do?". Like good professionals, no one had an exact answer about the future but the one "long term" goal that was noted was main stream, general education Kindergarten with support for his vision. As he got older we learned that would mean attending a different school than his brothers. That was fine, as long as he had good support. Then a couple years ago his vision made a big leap and he was no longer in need of his white cane or learning Braille. He progressed academically in leaps and bounds. So not only is his starting general education Kindergarten tomorrow, he will be at the same school as his brothers. I never even asked or imagined and God answered anyway! So my heart is celebrating!

But more than any of my other kids, Peter has been a full time job. We met his diagnosis with our heads held high. There wasn't anything I wouldn't try or therapy I would turn away for the first 3 years of his life. I researched, called, explained, tried out new ideas like our future depended on it. Because it did. And it worked. God made little brains to be very flexible and Peter's hard work helped grow his brain in new ways. Then tomorrow, someone else has Peter for the majority of the day and that feels very very strange after the last 5 years.

Peter is also my last little boy, and while Ellie will be the very last to school, this #boymom is feeling fragile tonight. So my tears are just close to the surface as I write this.

Peter is ready to go. Peter will do great things. I said when Peter was a baby that God had a special plan for Peter because God made Peter special. I know this in my head and my heart. So I will watch him get his backpack, walk to the bus stop, and head to Kindergarten knowing that the world needs a special Peter, but there will probably be a few tears in my eyes as I walk back home.

On Angst

I don’t know if angst is really the topic I should be considering right now given my current state of mind about my own life, but the word came up this week in conversations with my kids and now I am thinking about the concept of angst.

In the context of discussing the inner turmoil of a young Peter Parker, better know to the world as the super hero Spider Man, one of my kids asked me to define angst. While I knew it has similar roots to anxiety, I was pretty sure it was of a deep pull than anxiety. So I looked it up.

Angst is a feeling of anxiety, apprehension, and insecurity. Yes, it is anxiety, but it is paired with these other words that give it a little twist…like a feeling you just can’t shake. The first definition I read was that offered by Google….”a feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general.” In my own life, anxiety is often tied to a specific event or person. Angst is that all over apprehension and insecurity you just can’t quite get your finger on and that makes it much harder to find your way out of it.

Enter some interesting history of the word. Its use in the English language can be traced to the 19^th century and psychology (think Freud). That makes sense. The interesting part, at least to me, was that It had much more widespread use in general society in the 1940’s and 1950’s….when the world got a lot scarier with the atomic bomb now in play and the Cold War beginning. This is when the world was in crisis and quite scary, but most people couldn’t really DO anything about it. Enter angst. Deep anxiety about the world in general. Actually, sounds pretty reasonable.

I would argue that at this same time, we are faced with the new widespread information age with many homes starting to have television. Before this time, most people could worry about local events, but the world beyond that we were not getting anything in real time. News had a delay. Now all of a sudden, it is possible to have real time news in your home, but you still can’t DO anything about it. This is the breeding ground of angst.

Now fast forward another 60 or 70 years and it isn’t just when we go home and flip on the T.V. The news is in our very pockets. We can get real time updates on any political event anywhere in the world. Sure, some we can do something about, generally in a fairly slow way….send money to help in a crisis, vote for a different candidate, try to enact a policy change. Yet largely we are inundated with information we can’t DO anything about. On repeat. Every day. And then as it builds up, we don’t know why we feel anxious, our immediate lives and people are doing ok, but we have this deeper feeling of dread about everything.

This next part is hard. Is there anything we CAN do about this? Because living with a deeper feeling of dread is kind of poopy. I don’t think I have the answers. I would like the answers. Well, I have a couple things I have tried over the years that do help, but it probably isn’t the whole answer.

To start, I honestly believe this is where prayer comes in. We don’t have within our limited power the ability to fix every part of the world. We are called to pray for the world. This isn’t a last resort, this should be step one. And while we are there, we can pray for the peace that surpasses all understanding for our hearts and mind, too. We don’t have to live dread; we can give it to God.

My second one, is that I got a lot less angsty when I stopped following the news multiple times a day. I am not advocating burying one’s head in the sand here, but I don’t think we need a blow by blow of each crisis, especially in U.S. national level politics. Read a newspaper once a week and you will get the biggest take-a-way’s without the daily despair. Definitely limit news you get from social media as we all know the accuracy of that! When I was a child, a family we were close to did not have a T.V. The didn’t get the paper. They just didn’t want a daily influx of crud dumped on them. I never thought they were ill informed. And my guess, although I never asked, is that in the case of September 11^th they probably found out pretty quickly without even having access to media in their home. When trouble is big enough, word spreads fast. Don’t worry about missing something, if you need to know, you will.

That is really all I have for my own ways of avoiding angst in my own life. It isn’t much, but in a world where there is an onslaught of anxiety, apprehension, and insecurity, every little step helps.

I hope you enjoyed my thoughts about a little word with a big feeling!

Changing perspectives: Leaning In

In early 2013, I had a toddler and had just found out I was pregnant with my second child. I owed a small business that did government consulting and, up to this point, had worked full time. But in that season, I was winding down some of my work and gear up to be more involved in the care and keeping of (soon to be) two little boys. I was thrilled with the direction my life was taking. As much as I loved my work, I loved being a wife and mom and running our little household.

At this same time a very popular book was released. It made all the morning talk show rounds. It was showing us a new way for women to look at their careers. It was a call to be more in the workplace. It was a call, as the title shared with us, to Lean In. Sheryl Sandberg’s book was a hot topic among my friends, especially working friends. It sent many of them in to a frenzy of how to, once again, figure out how to have it all. Whatever they did with their families, they better not “lean out” at work. To be honest, I didn’t read the book because what my friends were saying about it was stressful enough. I was clearly in the “lean out” group. It was where I wanted to be, but all of a sudden, with this new hit phrase of “lean in”, I was starting to question what value I would have should I continue down the path I was on to move more towards staying home with my babies.

Fast forward three years and I now had three little boys and had recently moved. Over the past year I had done very little paid work and was trying to decide if I would go back and look for more work. That decision was, in a way, made for me when we learned about Peter’s neurological condition and birth defect. I was definitely needed full time at home with all of his therapies and doctor visits so I closed the doors of my company. I had officially “leaned out”.

Lots of feelings and emotions and thoughts have filled the last 3 years since I closed the doors of my company. I love being a mom. I love being home with my kids. I miss making money. I miss interacting with the technical side of my brain. I don’t miss the politics of work or the stress of finding contracts. I still feel this little tug of guilt that I am not doing “enough” as a stay at home mom. How do you measure success? Accomplishment? Could another mom have “done it all”?

Then a trusted advisor handed me an article that reframed it all. On the day before Mother’s Day this year the Wall Street Journal had an article titled “Coming to Appreciate Stay-at-Home Moms”. It was written by a childless career woman who had recently landed on some hard times. She was amazed to find out that in her time of crisis it was her friends who were stay at home moms who had the time and space in their lives to help her, to listen to her, to care about her wellbeing. They were simply doing for her what they did for their families. As the writer put it “they were leaning in – to people, not organizations.” They were creating the most important ingredient for a better future…human capital.

Wow. That flipped my narrative from 2013 right upside down. I certainly had leaned out from the corporate table, but I have very much been leaning in to family. My last few years have been spent in countless therapies, preschool drop offs, playgroups, dinner making, Target runs, diaper changes, and many sleepless nights with, and over, the kids. I have been leaning in very very far. I have invested these years in my family, in raising good humans. And that is a very good and worth endeavor. I am leaning…exactly where I am supposed to be.

Getting past the fear of shame

Four weeks ago I spoke in front of two groups of ladies on the topic of fearless motherhood. I spoke about shame and judgement and how we called to be those that lift each other up as moms and women. It was incredibly well received. I was told the feedback was great and that many women were uplifted and encouraged by my talk. My talk had been the culmination of months of writing on the topic. I was really excited to move forward, continue writing and trying to find more avenues to speak.

Just days after that event, more than one person made a comment on the grammar and punctuation in a specific Facebook post I had written. All of a sudden, I was front and center for that judgement I had just spoken about. Two things happened as a result of that.

One, I cried for close to two full days.

Two, I stopped writing. At all. I am confessing here that I am immobilized by fear. Fear that I would make another simple (and, I would have thought, forgivable) mistake and someone would decide I needed another lesson.

Just writing this out is making my heart quicken. Tears are forming behind my eyes. I have been told I have great composure and every single time I think about what happened and trying to write again I lose all of my composure.

And it hurts. It still hurts. I went from being so excited to hiding in a home improvement project….see, I don’t have TIME to write, there are walls to paint!...all an excuse. Mostly I am hurt and scared and can’t figure out how to move past it.

Maybe that is the biggest confession. I am caught up in the shame. The shame I have been trying to help others to not dish out and I am having a terrible time rising above it. I am stuck and I don’t like it.

I recently heard the idea that the first step is awareness. Awareness that something isn’t right, awareness that you are doing something destructive, awareness that you are on a path that isn’t getting you where you want to be. So, for a few days I have just been aware. Aware that this pain hurts.

Today I am taking the next step. I am going back to writing…by writing about not wanting to write anymore, of being afraid of writing. I am moving forward even as my heart feels anxious. Even as the tears are kind of making me want to give up.

I wonder why even keep typing? Why put myself out there? Why? Well, those ladies I spoke to are one reason. I helped them and it felt good. I like helping women. I think I have valuable things to share. I can’t let shame stop me from what I believe was a passion put on my heart by God himself. If I stop, the devil wins. I won’t let that happen.

But I won’t say it feels good today. It doesn’t. I hope writing does feel good again. I hope that by writing out how I feel about this shame and judgement I can begin to move past it. That I can move past the fear.

Because I know that the help I was giving others is bigger than the hurt in my heart. Even if it doesn’t feel that way today.

Marriage advice from the Greatest Showman

However big, however small

Let me be part of it all

Share your dreams with me

You may be right, you may be wrong

But say that you'll bring me along

To the world you see

To the world I close my eyes to see

I close my eyes to see

Although we were late to the bandwagon, our family fully embraced all the music of The Greatest Showman once we saw the movie. The soundtrack looped here almost daily for months. Each of us has a favorite song, and mine is “A Million Dreams”. I love how it took the movie from kids to adults. I love the interaction between Barnum and his wife.

The more I watch the movie, I think it should be required viewing for pre-marriage counselling and for anyone who has been married awhile, too. Mostly because of the ideas shared in the song “A Million Dreams”. The main characters start life with little more than love and believing in each other’s dreams, and as we learn as the movie goes, that is worth more than anything.

The section of the song quoted above is sung by Barnum’s wife. I think it could be sung by just about any young wife. This is a young woman who believed so much in her husband’s dream she wanted to be a part of it all. The big. The small. She wants to be brought along.

There are some spoilers in this next part…as the movie progresses, Barnum starts to not talk to his wife about his dreams. He doesn’t share his dreams, which are pretty big at this point. When she finds out in a very hard way that her whole life was being pulled out from under her, because of her husband, she leaves very hurt. She says something that has stuck in my mind and played over and over. She has learned of their financial ruin and asks “Why didn’t you ask me before? I would have said yes. I never minded the risk but we always did it together.” And with that, she leaves.

It wasn’t the risk that hurt her, it was the fact that he lost sight of bringing her along. Of letting her be a part of it all. She left because she felt deeply the lost connection with her spouse. She later says, after he says he was wrong for losing all they had, “I never wanted anything but the man I fell in love with”.

All she wants is the connection with her husband. Every risk will be worth it if they are together in it. However big, however small, be connected to me. Trust my love enough to share it all with me.

I see so many marriages that are lacking connection right now. I see so many women who made that promise to support their husband but don’t even know what they are supporting anymore. Share your dreams with me is like an anthem call right now. Husbands are busy providing, and many are very good at it, but they keep their cards close to the chest about what it going on in their lives. These men are being the stoic boys they were raised to be. To keep their burdens to themselves. The problem is that their wives want connection. The wives want to be a part of it all, and when they can’t, they shut down, they may not physically leave, but they are leaving emotionally. The girls stop sharing their dreams with the boys. They turn to girlfriends for connection and support. The whole family biosphere beings to crumble. It certainly did for Barnum and his wife. The only way they got it back was to turn back to each other, both with empathy and a spirit willing to listen and communicate, to see that the most important thing they had really was their love and family.

This is all good in theory, but what are some practical ways to get back there? To regain that connection? I have found in the modern busy world I have to fight for time with my husband. Not fight him, but the schedules and kids and demands. We schedule time for dates to Starbucks, we put down our media (digital and print) after the kids’ bedtime and talk. I ask about his job. I listen empathetically. He asks about the kids and what is going on with their various challenges. He listens empathetically. Sometimes we brainstorm problems. Often it is just the listening the other needs. We talk about what we want to do next in life. Where we are going. Our dreams. But we can’t do anything of that if we don’t listen to each other and share our dreams.

My challenge to wives, especially ones with young kids, is to make that time to just listen to your man. Hear his dreams again. And men, tell the girl what is going on! She will be able to support you so much better if she knows. She is your wife. She is your greatest good. She loves you. Share your life with her. She wants to be a part of it all.

My 2018 goal

I set out at the beginning of the year to write more. Late in 2017, I read about the idea of having just one goal and focusing on that rather than several goals that might all get mixed up. I decided to try it with writing. For the first time in my adult life my goal list had just one item. That was to write an average of 500 words per week and to have 26,000 words written by the end of 2018. These would be journal entries, blog posts, and speech notes. Every week the top item on my planner was “500 words”.

I started strong. When I really sit down to write, I can often go far past 500 words on a blog post. The Spring was solid and I was actually ahead. Then Summer came and I had 4 small people to keep busy. I started to slip. I wasn’t hitting 500 words every week. But it was my one goal so I wasn’t going to let a few weeks slip stop me for the year. I had ONE GOAL. I couldn’t fail at just one. I could fail at many, but to fail at one? That would just be sad.

I rallied in September and found a new writing time. I wasn’t too far behind. I could still do this thing. It would just take determination. And then the Fall holidays began and it was hard to find the time again. But still, I wanted to do this thing and I wasn’t that far behind.

That brought me to early December. I had to write 3000 words by the end of the year. I started to wonder if I could really do it. That would be more than 500 words a week at a busy time of year. I told my dad I didn’t know if I could make it and he asked where I was on my goal. I said “3000 words away, I might just fail”.

His reply changed my game.

He said “You already are at 85% or so of your goal. You may miss the word count, but that is hardly a fail.”

He was right. Since when would 85% be failing? And more importantly, I have written more this year than ever before because of this goal. My husband has encouraged my writing more this year than ever before because he knew my goal. I am closer to be a “real writer” than ever before. My goal has moved me forward as a person and a writer and that is what goals are supposed to do. So even if I missed the 26,000 words, I would not be failing my goal.

And that, as it turned out, made my want to write even more. I wrote during naptime. I took my kids to the Y playrooms and never made it to the exercise rooms, I would just write in the lobby. I might miss my goal. But I was not failing and I was a better person for trying. I was at peace with myself regarding my goal, which can be just as important as meeting the goal itself.

That brings me to today. I am super excited to report that I have done it! I have written 26,118 words in 2018. I am crying as I write this. It was a stretch goal. I could have quit with 4 little human excuses. But I didn’t. I kept going and I did it!!

And here’s to 30,000 words in 2019!

Thank God for Kids

“If it weren't for kids have you ever thought 

There wouldn't be no Santa Claus 

...thank God for kids”

I have always loved that song but it was hard to hear for a lot of years when we so wanted children we couldn’t seem to have. Then, 7 years ago, there was a Christmas filled with some hope as we were a waiting adoptive family. That year at the church Christmas Eve service I held up two candles…one for me and one for the baby I hoped God would give me in the next year. One day shy of two months after that service, I would hold my baby in my arms. God had heard our cries and given us the perfect baby he had picked for us. He gave us laughter again. He gave us Isaac.

The next Christmas, Isaac was 10 months old and holding his own candle at Christmas Eve. He was called out by Pastor Joel as “the child waving his candle more vigorously than others”! I cried again that year, but happy tears.

Little did we know that the very next year, we would experience “Baby’s First Christmas” again. We added Joel to our family that year with another sense of amazement at carrying a baby to a full term pregnancy.

In the following years we would add two additional children. One that on his first Christmas we were both thankful for him presence in our lives but very worried about why he seemed to not be able to see. The next year, Peter would be wearing glasses and just about to start using a mobility cane.

And that would also be the year we would do our final “Baby’s First Christmas”, but that one would include ribbons and bows and frilly ruffled dresses. Our Ellie girl had arrived that year.

This year, as I listened to the words “thank God for kids”, I am so incredibly thankful for my kids. I am thankful we got our children. I know that many arms are still empty. I am extra thankful we got all four of them and were able to close our family building chapter as we wished. I know that many arms are not as full as they wanted. I am excited for the next season of kids. I know not all parents get to watch their kids grow up. I am thankful.

Thank God for kids.

Merry Christmas

Was 2018 a bad year?

It is almost the end of 2018. Another 12 month have past and we are at that point of looking back at what has been and forward to what will be. I don’t know any adult who isn’t at least a bit reflective at this time of year. In the last few weeks, this reflection and thinking of 2018 has been visible on Facebook. I have seen a larger number of articles and memes than I ever remember there being in past years on why this was such a bad year. That 2018 was the worst year of our lives. Articles trying to explain this through astrology. Or memes about just a few more days and 2019 will surely be better.

Now, I am sure that 2018 was very hard and the worst year for some people (I know some of these people closely and it rings true for them). BUT was it really the worst year for EVERYONE, as social media seems to want me to think? Really, I almost started to believe it was true and to buy in to the idea that we should write off this whole year and try again in 2019. So I needed to step back and look at my own data. Check my own facts. Look at my very own year. Not the one I was being told about.

I decided to compile a list of good things about 2018, big and small, and see what I found. So here is my data in no particular order….

1. We bought our first house. One that our kids had known for 2.5 years as home.

2. Our kids were all able to stay in their schools because we didn’t have to move.

3. We found a new church that fits our family well and our kids love to attend.

4. We went on an 8 day kid free vacation and reconnected.

5. Eloise met all of her developmental milestones.

6. Peter began walking with confidence and running.

7. Peter began to talk in clear sentences.

8. Isaac learned to read.

9. Joel learned to ride a bike.

10. Mark got his role as acting program manager.

11. We spent 11 days on the Oregon Coast!

12. We joined the Y and the kids confidence in swimming has grown a ton.

13. I made some new friends joining the Y.

14. I started my own Facebook page as a writer,

15. I have written consistently enough I feel like I can say I am a writer.

16. Mark and I have grown closer as a couple.

17. We were able to help TWO therapy clinics raise funding to help other families.

18. We have had the money we needed for the expenses we have had.

19. Peter’s development grew exponentially at Stepping Stones.

20. Mark got an unexpected bonus.

21. Peter’s transition to the school district went pretty smoothly.

22. Peter gets special instruction in Braille daily at school and loves it.

23. Isaac found a therapist that he really connected with.

24. Joel continued to love preschool and adores his new teacher almost as much as his prior teacher.

25. Our kids get to go to work with my mom sometimes which gives me some little breaks.

26. I spent a weekend at the Oregon Coast with my mom.

27. My grandma moved to just 5 minutes away from us.

28. My kids are developing personal relationships with their great grandma.

29. Our cars didn’t need any major work even though they are old.

30. We got our backyard fixed up to be more useable.

Ok, so that is just the first 30. I need to get to bed at some point tonight! I am sure, though, that I could continue in to the night.

Given my own data points above, I am going to make my own declaration about 2018. There was good in this year. I know it had its ups and downs but it clearly there have been reasons to celebrate. So I am making my own determination. I won’t let social media tell me that 2018 was the worst year. I know it was good for me and my family and I will look forward to 2019 with anticipation of more good to come.

Falling apart and what happens next

Many people tell me that they are amazed at my calm and humor and grace in the middle of life as the mom of the Bennett crew. And, because I am working on not having a self-depreciating attitude, I will say that they are right. I am good at generally keeping it together in what is a pretty high stress mothering environment.

That doesn’t mean I don’t fall apart sometimes. Sometimes I fall apart in a big big way. It would probably be a bad sign if I stopped falling apart because there are days life is seriously awful and if I wasn’t falling apart it would be because I had stopped feeling anything at all. So sometimes I do fall epically apart. Mostly in private because of my personality, but sometimes even in public I just lose it.

I had a such a day two weeks ago.  It had been a rough 24 hours with our oldest son. It was time to get to the bus and he wasn’t having it. His anxiety and disruptive behaviors were at a premium. It took the whole village that is my neighborhood to get him on the bus. I had no idea what I was going to do if he didn’t get on that bus. I was panicked. When the bus doors finally close, with him safely on board, I broke down in tears. My neighbors gave me hugs. I cried all the way (super late) to my double preschool drop offs. I cried through drop offs. I cried clear through the Starbucks drive thru window.

What happened next, though, is the important part. I stopped crying. I did my next things and while I did, I started to deconstruct the morning. I asked myself a lot of questions. What triggered the child? What made me feel the most upset? What could have changed? What couldn’t change? Where could I call in some resources? Who could help me? And with those questions I started to create an action plan. A plan of people to call, places to go, a plan of what I was going to do for my own spirit after it had been so totally stomped on that morning.

With those thoughts, the clouds in my head and my heart started to clear. My soul was coming back to where it should be. To be honest, the problem wasn’t solved. I had no clear answers or promises that this wouldn’t happen again. Getting the answers to my questions and getting a plan in place took a few days of hard work, and it took some not taking no for an answer.

All the while I still was doing my regular next things of parenting and life. The taking a deep breath, the thinking through the events, the analysis and refocus, those I would argue are the healthy result of falling apart. Now, it would have been easier to give up on that day. To go home and eat a bunch of junk comfort food and watch a movie or bury myself in a book. Those are the not healthy responses to falling apart, those responses take you from falling apart over one thing to a life falling apart and a depressed spirit, if I may be so bold as to say.

We don’t have to put on a wonder woman face to the world, we don’t have to have it 100% together, we can, and should, fall apart sometimes. Where we go from there, though, can have a huge impact on our souls. So, I will keep falling apart AND I will keep putting myself back together. Hopefully an even better version, a wiser and new lesson learned version, of myself.

A night alone

Over the course of the last year or two as I have learned what self care means on a regular basis and to me personally, I have been trying to take a night away from home every month (or maybe two). My husband does an amazing job of keeping everyone happy at home so I can step away, pause, and renew my mind for my role as wife, mother, and operations manager of our family!

(These nights do always feature a favorite take out dinner)

Sometimes it is about sleep (okay, it is always a little bit about sleep) and reading or watching a movie and just stepping out of my daily roles.

But more often it is about a moment to pause and reflect on what has been happening in my rapid fire lifestyle. It is a time to look ahead to what is coming. What season are we in? What is the next season? What needs to be prepared for next?

There are nights like this one where I know that we are entering a busy few weeks. That this

is our last weekend home before we are out of town for three weekends in a row. Tonight is about having the time to put on some quiet music of my own choosing (and not negotiating with a six year old DJ) and putting some thought into what we need to pack. To take a moment to figure out some logistics. Have time to hear my own thoughts about what a trip to the beach for 10 days looks like (do you even understand the packing this involves?).

It doesn't have to be a movie night on the couch to be self care. It can be a night of balancing the check book, finishing a few projects, and planning for the next few weeks that restores my soul and fills my cup. These might actually be my favorite evenings away alone. The ones where I am still actively playing out my roles but just in a calmer environment that speaks to my soul.

I will finish up soon. I will head to bed for that sleep I mentioned. Then I will get up tomorrow and be so excited to see all my people. The ones for whom I am happy to do this work, this planning, this preparation. The ones who will bring the noisy back in to my day. The sweet faces I get to travel with for the next few weeks and I will be in a much better place to take them all on.

It's July!

It’s July!

I have this odd affinity for the month of July. I can dress my baby in everything red, white, and blue and for a few weeks we don’t stand out. It is the start of the really sunny season where we live (that is July and August, for those of you who are not from Seattle). But it also is the longest month my kids are out of school. There are no family birthday’s in July. In some ways it could just be a “filler” month, but it isn’t.

See, I love calendars and dates and attaching meaning to dates. When I was a little girl, our phone book had pages with the calendar for the next several years. Yes, now I can pull it up on my phone, but at the time, I loved those pages. Full of possibility. Full of knowing when your birthday would next land on a Saturday. How do leap years change the day of the week Christmas will fall on when I am 10 years old. Definitely the best pages of the phone book.

I can remember many things tied to certain dates. I will amaze my family with “7 years ago today we were doing this or that” or “in two years Christmas will be on a Sunday and I wonder how that will impact our plans for church”. Ok, fine, maybe I don’t so much as amaze them as I annoy them, whatever, they love me. Almost as much as I love dates on the calendar.

Let’s get back to July and why July is important. When I was a child, we went on a family vacation one year to a resort not far from our home. On the Sunday morning of our visit, we watched workers pressure wash a deck (super exciting vacation times, I know!). Someone in our group wondered how often they did that job. We thought it could be every Sunday. But it was also July 1^st. So it could be weekly, or monthly, or quarterly, or even biannually! It was a fairly silly and inconsequential debate that I have remembered for over 2 decades. Why? Because it showed how many different time increments start on July 1^st (especially if July 1^st is a Sunday, like this year).

July is just full of starts!! It isn’t usually seen this way. January gets the big billing for starting new things, but July should be right up there in its possibilities! We still have half a YEAR left to do the things we wanted to do this year. That is exciting. We still have six more months. We have two quarters left. We have 26 weeks, people. There is so much we can do if we start right now!

If we had intentions in January that we didn’t quite get to, we are only at half time, we can start now and finish very well. If we look back on the first six months and don’t like what we see, we can finish the second half stronger. It’s JULY!!

For me, I am excited to report that my one and only goal I was planning to focus on for 2018 is going well. I cut back to one goal because it was that important to me and with that, I have successfully made the half way mark. I am celebrating and continuing strong on this in July.

But I also realize that there are a couple other things I need to not let slide. Instead of thinking “well, guess the year is a bust, I will get that started in January”, I decided to make some new goal charts. Add a couple new things. I can do this! I have the whole second half of the year to make these in to habits before we event get to January.

It’s July! A month of fresh possibilities. A perfect time to start something, to celebrate the halfway of accomplishment, to refocus on intentional living and finishing the year strong. What can you do with this possibility month to finish the year strong? Let’s go get it!!

Two years later

Two years ago today I got a call that didn’t change the course of my life, but it did explain more about the course I was on. It shed light on something that was already happening. That phone call was a defining moment, it will be forever in my mind, but even if I had never answered the phone, the answer would have been the same.

A few days earlier my six month old son had an MRI of his brain. It was a scary procedure because it had to be done under full sedation. I held him as he fell asleep. The nurse warned me he would look like he had died. That was exactly how he looked. I cried when I was alone again. But the procedure, we were told, was to rule out a neurological reason for his nystagmus (or rapid eye movement). I wasn’t super worried. We already knew he needed glasses. I thought the glasses would fix all the problems.

Then as I was driving home on June 21^st, 2016, I got a call from our pediatrician. I don’t remember the rest of my drive home. I probably shouldn’t have been driving. She told me that the MRI had, in fact, confirmed a neurological reason for his nystagmus. She said she already had a call in to the Children’s Hospital Neurodevelopmental department for a consultation. She said words I couldn’t spell that day, but now I can spell in my sleep. Peter has a condition known as Optic Nerve Hypoplasia. That was the moment I learned my son had a birth defect. His brain didn’t form correctly in utero. You don’t forget the call when someone tells you your baby’s brain wasn’t formed right.

I went home and tried to tell my husband about it, but I didn’t even know all the words and I certainly didn’t know what it all meant. I cried some more. I cried putting my baby to bed. I cried trying to tell our pastor about it the next day. I didn’t want to tell many people. I didn’t know what to say. I barely understood it myself. I wanted it to go away.

Then I picked up my baby the next day and started to sing like I often did when he cried (and this poor baby who couldn’t see cried a LOT). “Jesus loves you, this I know, for the Bible tells me so…”. And I cried again. This was new information to me. It was not new information to God. He knit Peter together. He knew about Peter from the beginning of time. He loves my son more than I can imagine. I felt the love of Jesus wrapping us both in his arms.

I was already a really good mama bear because of Isaac, so I got right on figuring out who we needed to talk to for understanding more about Peter’s brain. We had to meet with a few specialists over the next few months. Early Intervention because a huge part of our lives. We were assigned a teacher for the visually impaired who has become a big part of our lives. I started asking for help. I started gratefully accepting any help that was given. A village would be needed to raise Peter.

There were many nights I still cried over Peter. I couldn’t fix his brain. I could only help him become his best self. I could be the best mama bear advocate I could be. I could be his best cheerleader. I could remind myself and him that “Jesus loves you, this I know, for the Bible tells me so…”

And then two years went by. The sting of the phone call past. The path was more illuminated by that call, but still pretty scary. I still don’t want him to have this. I want his brain whole. But I love who he is and how far he has come. He hadn’t met any two month old milestones at six months. He has met most of his two year old milestones. He attends preschool. He uses his mobility cane like a little boss. He loves his sister and brothers so big. He comforts me when I still cry over him.

I am so proud of Peter. He doesn’t know his brain is different. He just does his life and he does it well. He can teach us all lessons about love and life and perseverance.

Today I think about that call, but I also think about the little boy Peter is becoming and I smile, even if through the tears.

On How I Made My Birthday Awesome

When I was little, my mom did a great job of making birthdays super special. In our home, your birthday was definitely “your day”. I LOVED my birthday and looked forward to all the fun pretty much all year.

Then one day I woke up and I was the mom and I was the person making birthdays special and my birthday lost some of its shine. Beyond being the birthday person in my family, well, I still have all these kids and adulting to do…even on my birthday!!

In no way is this a slight against my husband. The man has tried to make it a special day, but I think even he was at a loss as to how to do that and, frankly, the guy is busy providing for our family and being a daddy.

So for the last few years, probably since I had kids, I haven’t loved my birthday, and that has brought some sadness to it. However, in the last couple of years I have been working on my voice and priorities and making this most of the life I have right here in front of me.

This year I applied all this to my birthday and I am sharing a few of those ideas here today. Just remember, these are the things that made my birthday awesome. This list should look unique to each mom.

1.  I am a gifts person. I like to give and receive gifts. In the case of my birthday, I like to give my people a list of ideas of things I want and I like to have wrapped gifts. But my husband doesn’t like to spend a lot of time shopping, shopping with kids isn’t fun, and he definitely doesn’t like to wrap presents. In the past, I have fretted about how he wasn’t shopping and it was almost my birthday, I would find the gifts stashed in various places unwrapped which was kind of disappointing. The gift part of my birthday wasn’t working. Instead of hoping that this year my husband would magically learn to read my mind and shop early for exactly what I had only hinted at and wrap it in amazing wrapping paper and display these gifts for me to “ohh” and “ahh” over, I stepped up my part…I sent him an email with links to Amazon for EXACTLY what I wanted. I pointed out to him that the kids can still be involved even if they are just clicking “buy now”. And he ordered it all to come gift wrapped!! It was my own bit of birthday magic to have all these beautiful gifts lined up on the mantel for the week before my birthday!

2. I stopped trying to do what other people say you should do for your birthday. I love my kids and I love caring for my kids and I love mornings. High on my list of things I don’t like is laying in bed listening while my poor husband tries to get them all fed and ready so mommy can “sleep in”. This year on my birthday I got up at my normal wake up time (it was a Sunday, so it was a little later than a week day, but my Sunday normal). I got the babies their morning milk. I helped prepare breakfast and dress kids for church. I didn’t leave it all to Mark because the world says mom needs the day off.

3.  I expressed clear and specific time expectations for my birthday, and then set up the babysitting myself. I knew what I wanted from the day, why shouldn’t I make the childcare arrangements? I wanted a trip out to lunch (which I specified as being at a favorite simple lunch place rather than a big “birthday lunch” at a fancier restaurant) and shopping with my husband at the mall. Before that, though, I wanted some time alone in my own house, because that is a rare event here. So, I just set up the expectation that I would help get the kids ready for church but would not attend. It was a wonderful choice. I was careful to not apologize for it, too!

I am happy to say my birthday was a success!! It was an awesome day with a good balance and flow. It was easily the best birthday I have had as a mom. Mostly because I was clearer ahead of time with others, and myself, about my priorities and expectations.

The other great thing about my birthday is where it lands on the calendar…because I have all this wisdom to apply again in just a few days for Mother’s Day. And you know, I think it will be the best one yet!

This Goal is for Me

I am a New Year goal maker. I know a lot of people are jaded about starting new resolutions or life changes or goals in January. I don’t really care that it is cliché. While, yes, it is just “another day”, it is one that can be easily marked. In recent years, my “reset” days have often been with the birth of a new baby, also easily marked, but I am past that season so I am sticking with New Year’s for this round.

Actually, I did a lot of thinking about my “goals” over the last several weeks. Many of them could also be viewed as just a matter of intentional living. They outlined how I wanted to be mindful and purposeful with how I spent my time. It was certainly a good list of my priorities. The list included such things as “build deeper relationships”, “continually update baby books”, “live within our budget”. All good things, but not quite “goals” as I have been thinking of them recently.

Then I watched a video awhile back by Jon Acuff, this was hard for me, as my husband would tell you, I don’t like to watch anything. But it was about stay at home mom’s (I think) and doing ONE thing well. That you don’t need a huge list of goals. That raising kids could just be the ONE thing you are doing really well today (or trying to, because let’s be real, parenting is HARD).

So I started thinking about ONE thing. What was a one thing I could focus on for this year? Yes, I raise my kids (my long term goals include “raising decent humans” – time frame 18+ years), but was there one goal that could be mine as April rather than all my other roles?  I thought and prayed about it.

Then it came to me. Also on my long term goals is writing a book so I need a habit of writing. Or maybe even the writings I could come up with would slowly become a book. At any rate, writing started to be my goal. I actually love to write, so this was definitely one that would be an April goal. It would also be a stretch because I have 4 small kids so time isn’t exactly hanging off my hands.

I didn’t want to just say ‘write something’. That was too vague. I wanted something that was definable and could be checked off, so to speak. I would know when it was done. So my goal is to write 500 words a week. About what? That will be a surprise to all of us! I am giving myself the freedom to write this on my blog, as a long Thriving in the Middle Life FB post, as a journal entry. So long as 100 words are together, I will accumulate them towards my 500 for the week.

The math says this is 26,000 words. A quick check on Google says a 200 page book is about 55,000 words. Looks like I will be off to a good habit and start towards that book.

What are your goals this year? Do you have a big one? Several small ones for intentional living? I would love to hear about them.

And just in case anyone was wondering….this was 558 words. Week one done!

Brave: A Pep Talk, Of Sorts...

I have a thing about bravery. I guess you could say I have been studying the idea of bravery this year.

This year has required some bravery. Not the easy peasy looking movie version...the REAL version: The sleepless nights, endless thinking about possibilities, crying on the shower floor, real deal bravery.

And, well, sometimes often frequently I fall off my own wagon. I just hit on the despair and can't get to the bravery of just moving through a life that is a bit hard right now.

So I needed a pep talk last week. I was feeling miserable about a lot of things and had to really stop and really think "what is the brave answer?". And a few things came to mind...my own visual pep talk..before I settled on the brave answer that day.

I figure if I post them all here, I can revisit this pep talk as needed this summer. Seriously, it will be needed.

First, one of my favorite songs. I keep this loaded on my phone for a quick reminder...

(There is a music video version, but honestly, I don't get it)

And then I read this Bible verse...

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.- 2 Timothy 1:7

I love that verse for bravery. Sometimes I am fearful of just life and I need the reminder that I have been given a spirit far beyond fear.

God then used my brother in a crazy way for my pep talk. My birthday was 2 months ago but on the day I needed this bravery reminder...well, a birthday present came from my brother...

A "be brave" bracelet!!

And finally, a post from one of my favorite authors and random Facebook post writers, Jon Acuff!

Bravery is a choice, not a feeling.
Posted by Jon Acuff on Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Once I had gone through all of those, I could think about my question...

"what is the brave next step?"

and I found one.

Not a perfect answer to all of life's current problems but an answer of what would brave look like for that day. And that tiny start of movement from desperate to brave started to move again in my soul and that was enough.

Be Brave.

My Mission Statement

This is my Facebook status from this morning:

Woke up feeling a little overwhelmed...then I remembered that everything I want to do today is part of living my mission so it will be a great day no matter how much gets accomplished!

It is now it is 8:45 pm and I feel a sense of accomplishment in this day.

For exactly the reason I thought I would at 8:45 this morning.

Not everything on my list got done, but I lived my mission. So there was accomplishment far deeper than checking off a task list.

Here are some of the things I did today...

Visited with a friend
Made sugar cookies with 2 sweet girls and 1 silly Isaac.
A few loads of laundry.
Ironing.

And it all fits my mission. I love having a mission that fits all of my life into a simple phrase.

To inspire, believe in, and accomplish growth in myself and those around me.

 That's it. One simple phrase.

My last quarter of college I had to take a senior capstone class that tied together the four years of schooling I was finishing. Except my program was so small we didn't have one. So I took a Journey Through Leadership class instead. It was there that I was guided through writing my mission.

I think the coolest thing about my mission statement was that I wrote it when I was thinking my life was going to be a career in economics (specifically having a PhD in economics and working for the Department of State on the economic mission to the European Union) and it still works as a stay at home mom with a part time business selling children's books.

My mission has become part of my life habits. I don't necessarily think it every day, but it is a part of my every day. Here are a few ways this is true:

One of my favorite uses of my mission statement is using it to say "yes" or "no". There are so many demands on our time these days...church, kids, community, etc. When I get asked to do something, I can evaluate it against my mission statement and determine my answer. Now, my mission statement is a habit so I generally don't even think really hard about this, I just know if something fits. This is important because I have only so much time, energy, money, emotional resilience and doing one thing means I can't do something else. But, I also want to please people so I have the tendency to fill guilty about saying "no"...but if I am saying no because it doesn't match my mission I have almost no guilt at all!

Another way I love my mission being part of my life is that even if my "to do" list isn't completed, I still have accomplishment. This happens more days than I would really like, but still, I have accomplishment when I live my mission. That might mean setting aside my list to spend extra time pouring into my boys personal growth or decorating cookies with little girls. At the end of the day, I have accomplishment. Bringing it back to a daily habit, I don't have to write my "to do" list sitting in front of my mission statement...what I want to do generally flows out of that mission.

In general I think mission statements help ground us to our values and set a vision for our future. To create a future that is what we want it to be rather than just were we are pulled or how we feel on a certain day.

If you don't have a mission statement, I really recommend spending some time to find one....and make sure it is broad and simple enough to fit your life today and in the future. And check back here because I am going to have another post soon on figuring out your mission!

The beginning of bravery

We all like the idea of bravery. We see other people take a risk and think "that was really brave". Hollywood makes money off of showing us bravery. Disney knows the Prince needs to do something brave to win the heart of the princess (or, in the case of Frozen, the princess bravely chooses true love, still, Anna was brave!)

Yet in our own lives we don't always see our bravery. We call it something else. Crazy? Stupid? (In the first year of having two babies 20 months apart in age I often left my house with them to do something thinking "this is really brave or really stupid"!)

Or do we see acts of desperation where others might see acts of bravery? Does bravery occur because we feel we have no other option but to step out on that desperate path?

Let me give an example...when I graduated from college I was 21, had a degree in Economic Theory, and needed a job. The problem was that there wasn't a huge need for right out of college economist in my city. So I needed to relocate. I also knew that in person interviews were a good idea. And I was running out of money. All of this prompted me (especially that last part about money) to pack up and move from one side of the country to the other, without a job when I got there, to a city where I knew no one. I was desperate. From my point of view, there wasn't another good option. I packed up my few belongings and a grouchy cat in a Honda Civic and drove across the U. S. My plan did work, I had a job within a few weeks, but I had no guarantee of that at the time.

I have retold that story many times in the 11 years since I did it. Almost every time I have told it, the response has been "that was brave" and I kind of looked at people funny at first because I thought "no it wasn't, it was crazy, it was terrifying, it was desperate!"

That is just one story, I have lots more, where I felt totally desperate in the moment but when I look back I can see the bravery. Which makes me wonder "does bravery begin in desperation?"

Even if you go back to Prince Charming he fought the dragon because he was desperate to get the Princess not because it looked like fun. It is a silly example, but it works.

Are we willing to take the desperation to get the bravery? I hate feeling desperate, it is a place of vulnerability, but if I let it be a time of growth, bravery happens and then amazing things can happen.

That job I got? I left it three years later to start a company that contracted for my original employer. That company not only employed myself, it paid for my husband to get through college, and employed a few family members as well. GREAT things came of that desperate brave act of moving without a job.

I am starting to realize that I need to reframe my story. To look at events maybe as an outsider. To see what it looks like to be brave when I just feel desperate. And if I am going to reframe my past in the context of bravery, can I start to reframe my "now" as brave? Are the hard days of being in the Middle Life, of learning how to Thrive, really days of bravery? I started out this year wanting to Thrive in my Middle Life...even that was kind of a feeling of desperation. I mean, I was feeling kind of stuck so I decided I would Thrive because I didn't see another choice while I was here. But I am starting to feel brave! The little, and big, things I am doing to Thrive this year are acts of bravery, one step at a time. I am choosing to reframe the story starting in the now.

I like stories, so here is another one...We struggled with infertility for the first few years of our marriage. It was a hard road. It was a dark road.  It was a very desperate road. As we walked in our desperation it became clear that adoption was going to be the path for us. That road was also filled with desperate longing for a baby. We adopted our son in early 2012 and, if I let myself, I can still feel that desperation, but I can look back and see the bravery, too...we opened our hearts to the idea of bringing in this new baby. Providing a life he would not have otherwise had. I love that little boy with my whole heart. Our journey to him was desperate and brave and beautiful. And I am thankful today that I reached a point of desperation that led to the bravery of choosing adoption to grow our family. Without desperation, I wouldn't have Isaac.

So as I embrace Isaac, I want to remind myself to embrace the desperate times, but to look for the bravery, because it is there and that is the story I want to write. Starting now. Starting with the bravery of embracing, of Thriving in, the Middle Life.

It was...a day!

(I have been working on a deep blog post for several days, it isn't quite done, but this one was in my head today, so here it is....)

Marriage speaker Mark Gungor once said if you ask a man how his day was he will look back and the box could be empty already and he will say "ummm, it was...a day!". But a woman will tell you every. little. detail.

Sometimes, though, I look back and all I can say was "that was...a day" because I can't even believe all of what transpired in that day. Some days I am sure I have lived a whole week since I got up in the morning!! But, I can't even repeat it because it was so overwhelming, so I just say to myself "well, that was A DAY".

Today was one of those days.

I woke up feeling overwhelmed and then spent my day putting out fires and having new reasons to feel overwhelmed....

...starting a new business and all the little details of trying to have a kick off.

...taking my son to the doctor and dealing with billing problems (this one was resolved by other people today. YAY!) and then getting some heavy information about the kiddo during the appointment (thanking God that I have a HUGE support team to turn to to sort stuff out with).

....volunteering to make FORTY rice crispy straw bales for preschool tomorrow (the volunteering was done weeks ago, I was crazy).

...sending my kids out to play and having the 3 year old throw the 1 year old's glasses over the fence! (trying to be thankful he told me what he did!)

...and realizing as I got the toddler ready for bed that we were both still wearing HIS breakfast on ourselves (my shirt, his hair).

But it was still a day. Just one out of many, right? Now, that was a lot to take in and I wanted to run and hide a few times (and I did cry once) but it was just a day.

Now we are at the end. And there were victories...getting the glasses back (breaking and entering, yes, but whatever), finding the right support after the doctor visit, and the straw bales are ready!

It was just a day. Days happen. Some are crazy but I need to remember to let them stay in their day, not to add or borrow to another day, just have one day.

So tomorrow is a whole new day, with whole new mercies, and I have no doubt there will be a whole new kid story, but let's not worry about it yet, ok?

Sleep well because it was just a day!

Shelf Life

I crave organization in my life and sometimes the Middle Life is not the most organized place one can be. There are often many things that are so up in the air my entire life feels disorganized.

So I create organization! My house is my best place for this, With two little boys, toys galore, clothes being outgrown, a love of kitchen gadgets, and a home office there is pretty much always a little corner that could use some organization.

Recently, the top shelf of the least used cupboard in my kitchen has been driving me nuts (and trying to kill me - things often fall out of it on to my head!). It looked a lot like this:

All of those things are related to baking or kid art stuff.

One of my problems in taking on this space was the desire to not spend a lot of money. So I made a few of my organizers. The process is fun and adds a pop of color:

I was going to try to do this for all of the boxes, but I was getting impatient waiting for just the right sizes so I bought a couple things.

And now it looks like this...

And I am happy. And being happy is part of Thriving in the Middle Life!!

I love you and naps

That basically sums up my relationship with my toddlers!

Or I guess it could say "I love you and YOUR naps".

I love my boys so very much. I love being home with them very much.

But a mommy needs a break. An introvert needs a break. Even from her own precious children. There is nothing wrong with this, and if I can get on my soap box for a moment, I think other mom's might also thrive a little more if they did this. too.

So this is one of the ways I have set up my life to Thrive. Since I started Joel on a loose schedule at a few months old I focused on making sure my boys napped simultaneously each day. Yes, there are days when they are sick or something crazy happens that this doesn't happen, but 98% of the time their naps overlap.

And I am certain the very happiness of our family is dependent on this.

When Joel was taking three naps a day, Isaac joined in for the middle nap. When Joel moved to two naps, Isaac's nap moved back to match Joel's afternoon nap. Now that Joel is moving to one nap, on those days, Isaac's nap comes forward, too. When they are passed the nap stage, this will be a quiet time in our afternoon.

This is all in an attempt to give myself mommy time to refresh. Some days, probably less than half the time right now (much more when Joel was a newborn) I take a little nap. Most days, I do something that just needs doing that is hard with tiny hands around, or I blog, or do some extra reading. But mostly, I just have time to myself. I rarely even answer the phone during this hour.

Because I want to Thrive and I know that I need some quiet space in my day for that to be possible.

And when they wake up? I am happy to have my cuddly little noise makers back for the rest of the day!!