I haven't written in here in ten years. Unbelievable to me. It's time to start writing again. Recently I began writing for my church newsletter, "Steeplesounds." My thoughts are on the subject of what it means to be kind. I suppose this is the subject of my thinking in part because I'm worried about the direction our country is going. If you're reading this and don't already know, I live in the United States of America. If you don't live under a rock I guess you must know American (North American to be precise) politics right now is awful. Politics has always been a morally foggy endeavor from what I've seen in the past, but now politicians don't even try to hide how immoral they are anymore. Politicians can be racist, greedy, dishonest, disrespectful, crude, rude, and generally socially unacceptable. They act in ways most people discourage their children from acting like. The other issue I have is that not only are politicians of late devoid of morality and not hiding it any more, but the American public appears to be okay with that. Many people refuse to acknowledge their favorite politician's flaws even when presented with cold hard facts demonstrating how morally bankrupt they are. The United States of America has been a "shining city on a hill" for many years, some would have called it a beacon of hope. Many have come here from afar in pursuit of a better life, but things are changing. I'm not fully convinced anymore that one can obtain a "better life" in the United States of America simply by living here and working hard. For the first time in United States' history, our children's generation is the first generation that will NOT have a better standard of living than their parents did. Housing prices, whether rented or purchased, are outrageous (my daughter's rent cost more than my mortgage!). No longer does even a dual income guarantee home ownership. The cost of a college education, once the standard pursuit of your average high school graduate to secure a meaningful career and income, has become prohibitively expensive. Even if you do secure a degree that can lead to the sought-after career, you will need to spend exhorbitant amounts of money to get transportation to bring you to said career. Assuming you are able to obtain transportation to your job, you will be going to that job for a long time to pay off your student loans and potentially a car loan. Many young people find that they need several roommates to afford a place to live. Don't even start talking about the price of food these days. I went to buy a carton of eggs recently and the store wanted $7.00! If you suggest that the political machine in this country be used to alleviate some of the burden on its citizens, many will call you a socialist, which is considered derogatory by many. Having the crazy idea in your head that the taxes collected from the citizenry of this nation be used to fund more than the American war machine and the propoganda that we are rescuing the oppressed and not trying to hoarde resources like oil is unfathomable. Corporations are now viewed legally as though they are individuals with rights (Citizens United anyone?). Somehow, though they are afforded the status of being legally recognized as people, the biggest corporations manage to avoid being taxed as individuals. They reap all of the benefits of their status as individuals and have none of the responsibilities. How are our children supposed to thrive in this environment? It seems that corporations have more rights than our children do. When our children go to work for these corporations upon graduating from the colleges and universities that are presumably preparing them with degrees, they are being trained to work in ethical and moral environments that only exist on paper, in theory. If you doubt the veracity of what I am saying you need only turn on the news to get a glimpse of what I am referring to. When you see our country picking sides in an unwinnable war between Palestinians amd Israelis, one can only shake one's head in sadness and acknowledge that there are no good guys in this war (or really ANY war). Bombing hospitals, taking civilians hostage and killing them shows that no one has the moral high ground here.

    So how do our children learn to successfully function in this environment? Do they just chuck out all the morals and ethics you worked diligently during their formative years to teach them? Is that the only way? Or is there another way?

    I would argue that indeed there is another way. When we see the kinds of behaviors we have been seeing from our politicians, our wealthy, our celebrities, that we are observing, THAT is the time to reinforce a different way of doing things. Our children need to see that not only do we value a different way, but we LIVE a different way. Maybe we don't have the best material stuff, but maybe that is not what we value. If we don't value material things, not having them is no big loss. 

    Now there is nothing wrong with liking nice things. I like nice things. Would I like a few nice things? Sure. But am I willing to sacrifice my values for them? No. What I value more than nice things are nice people. People who will go the extra mile to be kind when someone needs it, someone who will put their needs aside to help another. 

        The problem I have now is that politicians, the wealthy and celebrities often like to portay themselves as underdogs who clawed their way to the top without anyone's help. If they can do it, they say, anyone can if they are willing to work for it.  It's usually baloney.  The reality is that no one is an island Getting to "the top," however you define it, usually requires the assistance of another. Someone that has gone before you and can guide you in some way. For some, that means loving and supportive parents. Other people benefitted from a coach, a mentor, a minister, or a friend. Still others have siblings, a teacher, or an instructor who helped them along the way. 

    There is nothing wrong with needing a little help. Whether it's "a small loan of a million dollars," a shoulder to cry on at the right time, a place to stay while you get on your feet, a meal, help with writing a paper that's due or advice about a complicated situation, all of us need a hand at times. 

    So whenever the currently favored famous person presents themselves as better and stronger than your average person, I cry bullshit. When someone claims to have got "there" on their own, I am very skeptical. Look at the current situation with immigrants crossing the borders to get in to the United States.  Whether you feel stronger control is needed at the border or not largely depends on your ability and willingness to have compassion and empathy (Yes, I'm going there. This is my blog so if you don't like it feel free to express yourself in the comments and/or leave). Have you never feared for the lives of those you love? For yourself? Haven't you ever wanted a better life? Haven't you ever felt you needed to cut through the red tape to address your concerns? Have you ever felt desperate? That you would do anything to escape dire circumstances? If you have never felt any of these things, consider yourself very lucky.  If you do indeed feel empathy and compassion for your fellow man in such circumstances, feel free to visit places like borderaidsandiego.org to see what you can do to help.

    Needing help is not "weak" or "lazy." It's built into the human condition. We are beings that require community to survive. The anthropologist Margaret Meade is often credited with saying that the first signs of a civil society she knows of is a healed broken femur. There is debate about whether or not she actually said that, but the point that the observation makes is clear: In order to heal from an injury, we need community. We are designed to look out for one another. A broken bone, such as a femur would put a person at a distinct disadvantage as one would be unable to walk, run or evade predators. Gathering sustenance even if said sustenance was of vegetation, would be near impossible. The only way a person could survive would be with protection and assistance.

So are you going to live in this world in a civilized way where you are part of a community or is it every man for themselves?

Tears and Success

What is it about watching your child succeed that is so darned satisfying? Is it that we see a piece of ourselves succeeding right along with them? Sometimes succeeding at things that we could never in our wildest dreams hope to be good at? I had the pleasure recently of seeing all three of my children succeed at things that they were striving so hard for and my reaction every time surprises me. Christopher’s baseball team won a very hard game and kept their playoff hopes alive for a while, Daniel managed to finally hit the baseball and get a base hit and Allison was successful in obtaining a volunteer position that she had interviewed for. All three successes brought me to tears. Not full-on bawling mind you, but choked-up-ready-to-bawl-like-a-baby waterworks.

My question is why? Why when it wasn’t me achieving those things do I become so invested in what happens? Let’s take baseball for a good example. Normally, I have exactly zero interest in baseball. I don’t play it, I don’t watch it and I certainly don’t talk statistics about it or belong to any fantasy leagues. I don’t begrudge anyone who does do those things, I just don’t find them interesting. Pro baseball is a slow-moving sport in my humble, admittedly uninformed opinion. Every time I have tried to watch a game on television I find myself drifting off to sleep.

Everything changes when my son Christopher is playing. Suddenly I want to watch every minute of every game he has. The same is true of Daniel’s games. In fact, whenever they both have games scheduled for the same time-slot it really stresses me out. I don’t want to miss anything at either game. I love watching Christopher knock one out of the park so to speak. He has a lot of power in his batting for a kid his size and age. The added bonus? In case I haven’t said so before I love to watch him run. He is so lithe. The words “poetry in motion” come to mind whenever I have the chance to see him run. Running for him seems so effortless and natural.

When Daniel is playing baseball true, it is a little different. He doesn’t have the coordination that Christopher does, but he does have his own style. He manages to run pretty fast and despite those curls of his obstructing his view he sees well enough to play the game well. He’s in an instructional league so playing well does not mean he is headed for the playoffs, but that doesn’t really make a difference here, does it? What matters is the smile of pleasure on his face when he finally connects with the ball, sending it into the field. What matters is the look of satisfaction as he makes it to first base. What matters is that he is having fun as he makes the out at second base, and he is leaning the value of team work.

Allison’s successes tend to be successes of the mind. She loves the intellect. She’s well-read, she has diverse intellectual interests and can intelligently discuss almost anything. So when she obtained the volunteer position she wanted I was so thrilled for her. She will get to put her formidable intellect to good use and meet new people in the process. This is a big win for her in my opinion. It will be her job to help people play with the materials that are provided. What a wonderful job. It’s a unique way for not only her to help other people, but for her to develop social skills that she will need as she goes forward toward adulthood.

So am I proud? Certainly. It makes me feel that I have succeeded in what I wanted most to do…be a mother. Do I obtain a certain amount of satisfaction in seeing my kids grab hold of some of the stars they are reaching for? Why not? Their successful lives are my reward for being a mother.

Things could change in the next few years. There could and perhaps are going to be some negative things happening while my children plod along the road to adulthood. There are some difficult things to navigate between where they are and successful lives as adults. I would be a fool to say I don’t worry about them. What if one of them decides to experiment with drugs? What if they find a mate who is abusive or so needy they can’t have a life separate from them? What if they don’t get into the schools they want to get into? What if they have children before they are ready to?

I could sit and worry about all these things. I really could. Sometimes I do worry about them if I’m to be honest. Things could get ugly for them if they make bad choices. But so far they are making good choices and I think I have to trust that they will continue to do so. While I know that their successes now do not necessarily prove that they will be successful adults, I am hopeful that they are getting a taste of success and will hunger for more. That hunger will make them pursue success as they grow toward adulthood, no matter what success means to them.

That’s why I think I cry when they have a small success in their lives. It’s a foreshadowing of the success that is to come.

Embrace the Chaos

Embrace the chaos. That seems to be what the universe is telling me these days. See, I planned a nice, relaxing vacation camping. If you don’t remember (or weren’t reading my blog until recently) check my August 10, 2013 post, I did this last year. It was great. I went “off the grid” somewhat for a week or so. I cooked over an open fire, I walked my dogs, we had s’mores and slept out in tents. It was great. Really. So great that I planned on doing it again. I even have a campsite already reserved.

This time will be slightly different though. We have a pop-up camper we bought from our friends Debbie and John. I’m really looking forward to trying it out. Sure, we had an extremely icky time clearing out the ants that took up residence during the winter. There were hundreds of them. It makes me cringe just thinking about them (Are there any in my hair? I sure hope not). We got past that though I think. I plan to set up tents too, but having the pop-up will be nice. Especially if there is any rain. We’ll be able to sleep in the camper if we like and use the tents too – but if the weather is bad there is a table inside that we can play cards and board games at.

The spot we have reserved is right above a pond or lake (not sure which it is). There’s swimming, boating and fishing just a few steps away. This will be great. We’ll have fun and relax under the stars. My wonderful husband and kids bought me a screen tent for my birthday. We’ll be able to eat dinner without being bothered by bugs. We have a propane stove for those times we don’t want to cook over the fire. It’s going to be excellent. Except…

Except my daughter got a volunteer position at the Museum of Science. I am so proud of her that they offered her the position. It seemed pretty competitive during the interview process so I think it’s pretty great that she landed the position. The only issue? She will have to come home and go to Boston a few times during our vacation. Boo!

Except….my son got picked for the All-Star baseball team! I am equally proud of him for that accomplishment. He had to try out against approximately 80 other children and only about ½ or less were selected to be on teams. The issue? Players must commit to games until August and there are 2-4 games a week, plus perhaps practices. Boo!

Between those two things and the surrounding summer camps and various other activities my summer is booked! You might even suggest I overbooked. Boo! I have to figure out rides to and from camp and coordinate schedules. I also need to make sure uniforms are clean, work clothes that are appropriate are available and my younger son is being watched. Good thing I have a wonderful husband that will pitch in and help (see last week’s blog entry to see who I’m referring to).

But that’s the life of a mother with three children. A life that I am more than happy with and I suppose we will figure it out. That’s how I embrace the chaos. I try not to worry about how it will get done. I want my children to have these experiences so I do what I can to make it happen. Notice I said I will TRY not to worry about how it will get done. TRY. That is the main verb here.

Will there be some worry? Probably. Will I let it get me down? I hope not. The main thing is that my children are having important experiences that are helping them to figure out who they are in relation to the world around them. They are developing talents, interests and skills that will help them become part of a larger community and to make worthwhile contributions to that community.

If the price of developing those talents is some chaos, I’m in.

Marry Your Best Friend...I Did

It’s been twenty years as of today. Twenty years since I married the man of my dreams. We met because of Adam Ant. Not many people may remember this musician, but wherever he is I thank him for his part in making sure I met Steve. Mr. Ant doesn’t even know he had anything to do with it but that’s okay.

See, I met Steve in high school. A close friend of mine used to like to call cute boys on the phone after school. She and I were hanging out and watching MTV back in the days when MTV actually played music and not stupid things like “The Real World.” (I always felt that in the “real world” you paid your own rent, but MTV and I have different definitions apparently of the word “real,” but I digress). This friend had called Steve and was talking to him when one of her favorite videos came on T.V. Ironically it was “Desperate, But Not Serious,” by Adam Ant. Teenage girls, desperate? Never…heh heh heh. Definitely not serious.

Well, anyway, when this video came on television my friend, who absolutely ADORED Adam Ant, just HAD to go watch. She hastily stuffed the phone in my hands and dashed off to oogle the war-paint-clad wonder that was Adam Ant. While she was dancing and clapping along with the song, I was left to chat with a young, apparently cute (I had never seen Steve at this point) 17-year-old. For someone who was under-confident and introverted like I was, this was like being thrown from the frying pan into the fire. I stumbled around for a few minutes while we tried to figure out what to talk about. My job, given to me by my friend, was to keep said cute boy on the phone until her video was over.

I don’t remember what we talked about for 45 minutes while my friend watched even more videos of musicians she liked (Billy Idol, Prince, etc.), but by the time she came back to take the phone, it was too late. Steve and I had discovered we enjoyed talking to each other and were laughing and chatting away. When my friend asked for the phone back, she was told in no uncertain terms that we were in the middle of something and she would have to check back later.

So began the beginning of a great friendship with my future husband. He made me laugh. A lot. He still does. He was always respectful of me. He still is. He was always a gentleman. He still is. He had a great family who treated me like one of their own. He obviously still has that family and they still treat me like a member of the family. The only difference? Now I actually AM a member of the family.

We have had some very tough times during our marriage. When we moved in together we had a twin mattress on the floor of our apartment. That was all we could afford. We used an American Red Cross back board for a coffee table. It was held up by concrete blocks. For months all we ate was Ramen Noodles, Macaroni and Cheese and hot dogs. That was our food budget. We had this truly UGLY red and orange floral couch, given to us by a friend.

That difficulty paled in comparison to what happened in 1997. Just three years after being married we had our first child, Thomas William Turner. He was an 8lb 9 oz beautiful baby. Unfortunately, that beautiful boy was not destined to live a long life. He had a serious heart defect and died after a surgery that attempted to correct his many problems. He was 10 days old.

I have never recovered from that pain. The pain of losing a child is incredible. You just don’t know how to keep going once something like that happens. This beautiful baby that you are allowed to love for nine months is suddenly ripped away from you, never to return. If I hadn’t had Steve to lean on during that time I think I would have gone crazy. I was pretty close a number of times. I hope that I was as supportive of him as he was of me. My gut says no…I tried to be supportive, but he was the rock, the steady one, during our darkest times.

When we miscarried our last child he was there as well. He held me as I cried and was there while I met with the doctor who told me about the D&C procedure I needed when the baby was dead. He never left my side. He was there both before and after the procedure and I never felt alone.

He was also there for the really good times too. He was there as my number one support during the birth of each and every child. Allison, Christopher and Daniel saw Daddy before they ever saw me, that’s how involved he was in their births. He was truly amazing. I honestly couldn’t have made it through the unmedicated, natural child births I had without him. He made it so much easier for me than it could have been.

As I look back on the years we have been together, I realize that he has always been there. He brings flowers home on random occasions just to say I love you. He does laundry (which sometimes is more romantic than the flowers) and he is a FANTASTIC father. He works hard at his job and does all he can to support us AND he manages to arrange his schedule so he can be at baseball games, bring kids to karate, take days off when I’m sick and help with dinner.

Have there been times that I have been upset with him? Of course. You don’t live with someone for twenty-plus years and not get upset sometimes. Has he been upset with me? Sure. I’m not the easiest person to live with at times. Despite these difficulties, I am glad we are together. I don’t think we have a perfect marriage (who does?), but it’s perfectly ours.

Our marriage has been hard work. There have been tears, arguments, and pain. But our marriage has been fun too. We laugh, we cuddle and we talk. We hopefully show our children that you need to put more effort into your marriage than your wedding. I hope they come away with the knowledge that marriage to the right person is SOOOOO worth the work.

I know mine is.

Hypocrisy and Physical Fitness

I have always prided myself on my parenting, but recently realized that I am not quite as good as I thought I was. See, kids learn more by what you do than what you say. I have been a total hypocrite in one area of my life with them. I have told them over and over again how important it is to have balance in their lives. Yes, academics are important, but so are friends. Yes, you can enjoy life, but you must work hard too. Yes you are kids, but you are learning to be adults. I think that I have done okay with those things, but there is one area that I have really literally fallen down on the job.

What area is that you ask? I can feel you preparing to defend me by saying, “Now Sheri, you can’t be that bad, calling yourself a hypocrite is a little harsh, don’t you think?” My answer to you on that particular question is no. I am not being too harsh. The area that I am talking about is physical fitness. If you don’t take care of your body everything else suffers. You can develop everything from obesity to depression, heart disease to general malaise and everything in between. Studies about physical activity have been linked to better sleep, better thinking, better moods, better appetites and better sex.

I have always thought the life of the mind is very important. Reading books, figuring out problems, asking questions, exploring different ways of being. I am happiest in the classroom, particularly a classroom set up using a Socratic method of teaching. Questions being answered, open discussion. I love it. Equally important however, is the life of the body. If you take care of your body you are rewarded with a clear mind that is well rested and prepared to take on the tasks you and others present it with.

Being remiss in my duties to take care of my body is tantamount to being completely unbalanced in my life. I see the results of not taking care of myself and so do my kids. There is a history in my family of obesity, diabetes, depression, heart disease and high blood pressure. So far the only issues I have had to deal with is depression and obesity (as if that’s not bad enough).
I have tried to motivate myself to address the problem and so far have failed miserably. I have tried jogging, swimming, walking, calisthenics, yoga and some hiking. It’s incredible to me that at one time in my life I was an aerobics instructor. True it was many, many years ago, but still. I was in good shape at one time in my life. And I wish I could blame my current lack of physical fitness on having babies but I cannot. I was out of shape before I had them and lost all the baby weight I gained during pregnancy within six months. I credit breastfeeding my children with that as there was nothing else significantly different in my life at the time.

I tell my children all the time that it is easier to stay in shape than it is to get into shape. This is what I say to them when they want to quit karate or some other sport that they are involved with. I want them to stay physically fit and not have the uphill battle I have. I have used the current state of my body as an object lesson for them on numerous occasions.

As my children grow they have begun to ask me why I am not doing the physical things that they are. I don’t really have a good reason to give them. I could tell them that it is just so gosh darned hard to keep going when one has the weight on that I do, but so what? Shouldn’t I power through the tough part to get into shape? Of course I should. My kids’ karate instructor tells them all the time that it’s supposed to hurt. If it doesn’t hurt a little then you aren’t doing anything meaningful to improve your body. I agree with him. I’m just not so good at applying the knowledge. Why is that? I suppose “pain compliance” is one answer. I don’t like pain, plain and simple. Trying to get into shape from the condition I am in hurts…and I don’t want to hurt…therefore, I avoid it.

I’m soft. Too soft. For a while I was doing karate with my daughter’s class. I had an incident where I got dizzy and almost passed out. I haven’t been back since. She keeps asking me when I will be back to class. I have taken to telling her when I lose 20 lbs. I want to take off some weight first before trying the karate class again. I do too. I want to take off a bit of weight before I go back. I think that I am not prepared for some of the workouts that we do in class and it’s embarrassing to not be able to keep up.

But worse than being embarrassed is watching my daughter lose her confidence in herself. I feel that my example is a strong lesson in giving up and that is definitely NOT a lesson I want my daughter to learn. When the going gets tough you give up? I don’t think so. She has been talking lately about how she doesn’t really like class and she isn’t really that good anyway. I think that it is a direct result of my example. Sure, there are other factors, but my example of giving up has green-lighted her to give up as well.

I don’t want that for her or any of my children. So how can I walk the walk and not just talk the talk? How can I overcome my desire to avoid pain, my embarrassment and the number of other things that get in my way when it comes to being physically fit? I wish I could say that I was going to, as the Nike commercials say “Just Do It.” That is not realistic for me. I think I will have to take it at the one-class-at-a-time approach. Maybe I can “Just Do It” one time and build on that. You know, like they always say in sports interviews, “I’m going to take this one workout class at a time, I’m not going to look forward. I am just going to focus on this one work out.” Maybe then I can give my kids an example I will be proud of.

Can You Be Tough AND Tender?

Three days ago my youngest child Daniel got a bloody nose while sparring at karate. He happened to be sparring with his older brother Christopher. Christopher threw a roundhouse kick that was supposed to land on Daniel’s helmet. Unfortunately for Daniel Christopher’s aim was a bit off and it landed instead on Daniel’s nose. I didn’t see it happen so I was unsure of how hard Daniel had been hit. What I saw was one little boy whose face had crumpled in tears and a lot of blood. It was the first time this has happened to him so it was a bit dramatic. There were tears both shed and unshed (shed by him, not shed by me) and some blood. At first I thought his mouth was bleeding – his mouth guard (which he was wearing thank goodness) was filled with blood, but there turned out to be no injury to his mouth.

While I was cleaning him up his karate instructor John ran over with a camera and took some snapshots. He said something like, “Excellent. Rite of passage. Now you belong here!” After briefly looking for an ice pack that turned out not to be available, John was back in class. Before he re-entered the dojo he said, “Make sure Daniel leans forward while pinching his nose. You don’t want him to choke on it.”

At first my reaction inside was, “What the hell? Didn’t he belong before?” I was on the cusp of losing my temper, overprotective Mama Bear that I am. But I thought about what John was saying, I looked at my son. I thought, “Daniel seems to be okay. He definitely had his bell rung, but there don’t seem to be a lot of injuries.” While I was definitely absorbed in making sure my little boy was okay, I began to think about how he would be affected by my reaction to what happened. If I overreacted to what happened he would never get back in class.
It was important that he go back to class. We can’t let the things that hurt us and try to tear us down stop us from accomplishing our goals. I had an opportunity to teach Daniel something about resiliency and I wasn’t going to miss it.

With all of the wonderful lessons to be learned by this teachable moment you would think that both Daniel and I left Friday’s karate class feeling on top of the world. The truth is, I feel very conflicted by what happened. Part of me is so proud of my boy because he was able to pull himself together. After stopping the bleeding and cleaning up his face and neck, Daniel re-entered class and continued on business as usual.

What bothers me is that there were no life lessons learned by my other son, Christopher, about empathy and caring for those you love. Not once did he come over to see if Daniel was alright. There were no questions about Daniel and his well-being. Was that because he didn’t care or because he knew we (myself, John and a couple of mothers there) were already taking care of things?

Mental toughness and physical toughness are important things to cultivate in our children. Our children need to learn that adversity will not crush them and that they can choose to learn from life’s bumps and bruises. Christopher impressed me this morning by making the observation that losing is sometimes better than winning because you learn more from losing than you do from winning. This is something that his karate instructors have discussed in the past and it was nice to see that Christopher had internalized that learning.

But what about being kind? Tender? Sensitive? These are things that should be equally valuable in the world. Unfortunately we do not seem to value these characteristics in our children. We tell them to “Man up” or “stop being a baby” when they cry. What about recognizing that there are things that are going to make us cry or bring us to our knees? What about honoring these tender places in our children and teaching them that tenderness or sensitivity doesn’t have to equal defeat?

On Strong Personalities and the Value of Self-Defense

“Chamber that kick Daniel or I’m going to throw you out the window!” A shocking sentence if taken out of context. This (or something similar) is the kind of thing my children frequently hear when they are in karate class. Their instructor has a strong personality, to put it mildly, and he demands the best from them.

My kids are benefitting greatly from that strong personality. Kids need strong adult role models who will tell it to them straight. John, their instructor, does not let them get away with anything. If they are fooling around or not giving 100% effort, he is not afraid to let them know it. He demands they try their hardest in class, that they care, and that they are honest about what they are doing.

The class my children take is difficult. They are expected to do a rigorous program of calisthenics, stretching, sparring and practicing of their forms. There are other things expected of them in class as well. They are expected to bow in to the dojo and bow out. They need to pay close attention when they are being taught a skill – their sensei hates to reteach something that he feels that they would know if they paid close attention when he initially taught them. They need to kneel when their sensei is kneeling, and they must, above all else, show respect for not only their sensei, but any rank that is higher than they are.

I promise that I am not trying to sound like a commercial for the karate studio that my children go to (although if you live in the area and are looking for one let me know. John’s studio IS terrific). What I AM trying to do is to convey how important it is to involve your children in activities that teach them important life lessons. My children are learning about the importance of character, honesty, hard work and commitment. When you work hard at something, you can achieve wonderful things.

Since beginning their karate class I have seen some wonderful things happen for my children. All three of my children are in much better shape physically than they would have been without the class. To varying degrees (depending on their ages and ability to appreciate it) they are more disciplined about their lives and focused when they do things.

Notice that I haven’t said much of anything about trophies or winning tournaments or competitions? That’s not because they haven’t. My children have each won their share of competitions, but they have learned that winning isn’t the most important thing. Learning is. Learning how to handle disappointment when you don’t win, learning how to be graceful whether you win or lose. Paying attention to your opponent and learning from them when you are bested. Learning to be a role model for others. Learning to respect your elders and those who have more skill than you. Learning to put effort and passion into what you do. All of these things are important to learn as you go through life as a person with character and honor.

Let’s face it folks. With all of these wonderful things at the core of what karate is teaching them, my children will be as well-prepared to handle all that life has to offer them as they can be, right? Aside from all the character building that karate has done for them, they are also learning self-defense skills. In a world where we need to create bullying task forces and have anti-bullying campaigns as a staple of our children’s educations, it’s not a bad idea to teach our progeny to defend themselves if necessary. In a world that contains fist fights over what kind of sneakers you wear and date rape, I want my children to be prepared should they be faced with these dangers.

While having the ability to fight if necessary is certainly part of the reason our children are taking karate, the confidence that having these skills instills is equally important. Karate, when taught properly, teaches you to think about the possibilities. When you can do that effectively you often (though not necessarily always) avoid fighting altogether. There is something about carrying yourself with confidence and security that takes you out of a bully’s crosshairs. You can relax and be less defensive. When you are less defensive there are fewer conflicts to worry about.

So if my child’s instructor needs to occasionally yell at them to wake them up and get them participating fully, I’m okay with that.

On Friends and Missed Opportunities

This last week has been kind of tough. My friend and neighbor Candace passed away unexpectedly at the age of 66. She was a kind woman who spent her life in service as a nurse. She was married to the same man (my friend Peter) for 41 years and she has two grown children. Both men are good people and I consider myself fortunate to have met them.

When Steve and I first moved in Candace and Peter went out of their way to make us feel welcome in the neighborhood. We were invited to family birthday parties, they made and brought over pizza, and when I was very sick in 2008, they checked in on my in-laws who were watching our kids at the time. They were just as neighborly with them as they were with Steve and I.

Candace was found on her bedroom floor, a victim to a massive heart attack. The last things she had done before passing from this life were to care for her husband. She had ironed his shirts and cleaned the bathroom they used. This was after a day spent with her beloved husband, lunching and laughing. Peter told me they had gone together to have a Chinese food buffet and then come home.

I hope that when it is my time to go, I will have been as giving a person as she was. Candace made sure her boys had what they needed growing up and from all accounts she was just as giving with her friends. At her eulogy today one of her friends recounted about how she visited a friend in the hospital who had a hip replacement she was not satisfied with the traction set up that they had and went about fixing it to ensure this friend healed properly. That was just who she was. She wanted to be sure that those she loved and cared about had what they needed.

I am still in shock that she is gone. It will take a while for me to adjust and I hope that I can be a good friend to my neighbor Peter as he grieves the loss of his wife.

In the same week that this happened, a friend of ours, Steve, had a pons stroke (see http://www.netdoctor.co.uk/ate/seniorshealth/205224.html for a description of a pons stroke). There was a period of time that he could not speak, see or move. What is so shocking about this is that he is just 41. This young father of four children suddenly had his life stop in its tracks. Thank God he is recovering now, but his family needs him and came dangerously close to losing a good man.

His wife Michelle was incredible through everything her family endured. She kept positive for her children and made sure that they were surrounded by loving people while there was such uncertainty about the fate of their father. Would I have the grace under pressure that she does? I don’t know. I hope that if and when it ever becomes necessary I can answer yes.

What I find myself thinking about after the two tragedies this week is relationships. How relationships need nurturing and care to flourish. How easy it can get to rely on others’ understanding of your busy schedule and how in the blink of an eye you can lose any opportunity to let them know how truly special they were to you.

If it sounds like I feel guilty it’s because I do. With both of these relationships Candace and Peter as well as Steve and Michelle I find myself thinking about how time can run out for me to show them how much respect I have for them. I’m left speechless when something like this happens because I haven’t spent time with them to let them know. Thankfully I still have time to express to Steve and Michelle how much their friendship means because he is still with us, but you know what I mean.

I suffer from social awkwardness. I get in a room with someone who is not a family member (and sometimes with family members too) and I don’t know what to do with myself. I find myself worrying if I said the right thing. I worry that I said too much or too little. I never realized this until recently but I avoid social situations sometimes because I am so worried that I will not handle it right.

The cost of this avoidance? I think I miss opportunities to develop relationships to a deeper level than they are. When I am faced with a situation where I need to interact with people I focus too much on what I should say. I want them to know I care and I make it more complicated than it needs to be to show them that care and concern I feel.

What shows you that someone cares about you? Is it a kind word? Their willingness to go out of their way for you? Their follow through on things they have promised? Does the amount of companionship matter to you or do you think that it’s more about the quality of the companionship when you have it?

I’d love to know what it takes to be a friend in your book. Please, comment below if you can take a moment to do so. In the meantime, I have a call to make to a friend. I think we need to go for coffee and just “hang out.”

What Did I Just Do?

Ok, so I’m panicking. I quit my job so I can write full time and I am freaking out. Mostly because our finances are taking a hit for this move. There are two sides to the freak-out session. First, I keep thinking, “What did you just do? You had a decent job that paid half-way decent money and you just ditched it. Are you crazy?” If I let myself follow this track for too long I become more and more crazy. I start thinking about begging for my old job or maybe working at McDonald’s. I start worrying about taking care of the kids. I begin to get teary-eyed and start feeling like I was being tremendously selfish for quitting like I have. I mean, how are we going to take care of things? Steve has a great job. His check covers what we need. I just worry about giving the kids what we WANT to give them. How are we going to send them to camp? How are we going to pay for college, how are we going to take care of the myriad number of little nickel-and-dime-type things that raising kids involves? I mean, there is karate, there are music lessons, there’s baseball, there are field trips, museum passes and the like. WHAT DID I DO? WAS THIS THE MOST SELFISH MOVE I HAVE EVER MADE?

This leads me to thinking about how this is such a first-world problem. There are many people who struggle to find jobs to put food on the table. They give up time with their families to provide what is needed for those very families. Their children don’t get to spend time with them, except for the briefest of moments saying goodbye in the morning and goodnight at night (and that’s only including those that work first shift). How many latch-key kids are there out there because both their parents work to provide them with clothing, food and shelter? I was lucky to have the job I had. It allowed me to (for the most part) see my family and also help them to achieve their dreams. Steve and I have been fortunate to be able to provide experiences and activities for our children that supplement their day-to-day experiences of school and home.

The second part of my “freak-out session,” involves my confidence. I wonder what I was thinking when I quit to write. I could have written part time, couldn’t I? Why did I quit to write? Do I really think I can become the next Stephen King? If I do, perhaps I should have remembered that good ole’ Steve King held down several jobs during the course of pursuing his chosen career. He taught and he worked in a laundromat just to name two. Why did I need to quit again? I haven’t done any writing for pay since my days in college. True I loved it, but it has been a while…like 23 years or so. I’m also not all that confident about some of the nuts-and-bolts of writing. My content can be pretty okay, but knowing the style, punctuation and grammar rules is not always my strong suit. Shouldn’t a writer be good at that stuff? Shouldn’t I be an expert in that in fact?

Then I take a breath and try to remember that this move was never about the money. We knew that there would be a proverbial tightening of the belt involved. We knew that my quitting was going to involve some adjustments. So I guess that part of the adjustments we are making is to think about work in a different way. Maybe work isn’t only what is paid for? Maybe work is the passion that we pursue throughout our lifetime. Maybe if we can create something of value from nothing that is important work too.
I feel like I have something to share with those who will listen. Maybe something I say will resonate with you. Maybe it’s about my son Thomas. Maybe it’s about marriage and family. Maybe it’s about what it takes to pursue an authentic life. I don’t know. I just know that I have to try this path out and see what comes. I keep hearing how the children in a family can’t truly be happy unless they know their parents are happy. I wasn’t happy not writing.

Some would say that to pursue a career path, particularly a NEW career path, they have to jump wholeheartedly into it. So perhaps immersing myself in writing and everything to do with it will lead me to my next opportunity. Maybe I can develop a presence in my writing that others can relate to. I hope that you can see a little of your own struggle in what I am doing. I hope that you can relate, even if only a little.

At any rate, I took the plunge. I left a job that was not fulfilling me. I picked a direction. Now that I’ve picked my direction, I’m going to run with it. Want to put your sneakers on and run with me?

In Awe of My Children

With the snow spitting outside my window, I sit down to write today’s blog post and think, “What do I write about today?” What can I possibly have to say that is worth saying on a day like today? I could write about the weather. I mean, the winter is hopefully drawing to a close but here in New England you couldn’t really tell. Just a couple more weeks and it will be officially Spring, yet outside my window I see flurries spitting down from the sky like an insult. But are people going to want to read about the weather? I suppose it shouldn’t matter what people want to read. I should write about something that moves me. So what moves me these days? My kids move me.

My lovely daughter Allison recently got her braces off. Her smile is beautiful. Not that it wasn’t before, I mean, let’s face it folks, my daughter is a cute kid. I’m not just saying this because I am her mother either. Objectively, she is cute. She has very pretty curly hair. We argue about its color – she says it’s brown and I say it’s strawberry blonde. She might be right but I still think it’s strawberry blonde. Her skin is like porcelain – smooth, pale and soft. She hates how she burns so easily…I mean it only takes 45 minutes in the sun even with sunblock protection and she is crispy. I however, love how milky-white her skin is. She has just a hint of freckles and a touch of pink, indicating how healthy she is.

I love seeing her smile or laugh. Her whole face lights up and she engages all of her face in the act of smiling. Her eyes sparkle and become wider and her eyebrows arch. When she is laughing she is truly beautiful. And now that the “jewelry” is off her teeth, she looks even better. She is trying to get used to her retainers and hates how they make her mouth feel. She has a slight lisp right now and it’s interfering with her attempts to learn French. I however, think it is pretty darned cute. There is some soreness, but so far that has been bearable for her.
Allison has a wide range of interests that make talking with her both a challenging and thought-provoking. She reads all the time. She knows about so many different things. She likes science, debating, technology, vegetarianism, politics, dogs, cats and music. She is thoughtful about the topics of conversation she has and what she chooses to contribute to them. She is a woman of few words. She makes the words that she uses matter. The vocabulary this girl has makes my mind spin! She is so bright.

So that is Allison. My middle child Christopher, is a charmer. He is cocky, confident, and adorable in my humble opinion. He has hair that is a straight as you can get it. Not one curl. His eyes are blue, like his older sister’s, and the color of his hair is similar to his sister’s as well. But his looks aren’t the most interesting thing about him. Christopher is a funny guy who has loads of confidence. He is tough, fair-minded and athletic. Watching him run while he is playing baseball or just around the yard while he plays with his cousins brings me such joy. I know it might sound odd that his running would bring me joy, but to see him move is to see one of God’s most coordinated creatures move.

We played Pickle yesterday. The whole family did. It was such fun. We so rarely have the time to just play games with our kids like this but yesterday the weather cooperated and we had a blast. For me, some of the best fun was seeing how agile Christopher truly is. He has long, coltish legs that seem to carry him like he is floating through the air. To see him move is to truly see poetry in motion. He’s not afraid either. He commits to his moves thoroughly and never seems to worry about getting hurt, which is probably why he so rarely DOES get hurt. I mean, how many times have you hesitated on something only to regret the hesitation later? I wound up face down in a brook one time while hiking with a fifty-pound pack because I hesitated about jumping on a rock while crossing the brook. Christopher seems to possess none of that hesitation. He commits fully and if he gets a little banged up in the process, he’s okay with that.

Finally, there’s Daniel. Daniel is a sweet, adorable, friendly, creative guy. With lots of curly hair and blue eyes he is a stunner. Again, not to focus on the physical aspects of my kids, Daniel is sensitive and affectionate. He is my artist. He loves to cuddle, draw, paint, and read.

Recently Daniel did some public speaking “for fun.” I had to laugh that he thought that this was fun because public speaking is one of the biggest fears most people have. But not my Daniel. He got up in front of his audience (a group of parents there to see their children participate in 4H Visual Presentation Day) and spoke like a pro. He was very much at ease and knew his material very well (Minecraft – not a hard topic for an eight year old to engage his audience with). He and I had worked together on the visual part of his visual presentation – a 3-panelled foam board display illustrating the various “Minecraft Mobs” and I was so impressed with him. Working together is not really that accurate a comment as he did all the work and all I really did was to make suggestions. He was so confident and comfortable with what he wanted to present that he was able to take suggestions for improvement in stride and he managed the whole project so well. I think it was due to his familiarity with the subject, but for an eight year old to have the poise and grace he did about presenting is very impressive to my way of thinking.

Okay, so enough of the love-fest for my kids. By now you are probably tired of hearing this mother go on and on about how terrific her own kids are. I mean, after all, aren’t ALL kids impressive? In their own way, yes, all kids are impressive. Watch any of them for a period of time and you will marvel at how they grow, learn and change. That is part of what I am doing here as I sing the virtues of my progeny. But more than that I truly LIKE my children. I find them to be interesting, engaging, funny and intelligent beings in their own right. Marvelling in their awesome-ness just seems natural to me. Doesn’t it seem so to you?

Do What You're Told...Or Not. That is the Question

So, having a highly intelligent daughter is proving to be challenging. Particularly since, like me, she has a bit of a rebellious streak in her. We have raised her to feel questioning authority is not a bad thing. Thing is, sometimes, she questions us and we need her to not do that sometimes. Like when I'm trying to emphasize with my eight year old that he needs to do his homework the way the teacher says to do it. The conversation went like this:

Me: Daniel, you scribbled on your reading log. You need to color each day in individually, not scribble across the whole thing.

Daniel: OK Mom, I'll fix it.

Allison: Why? What does it matter? I mean, if he gets the whole assignment done, who cares how he gets it done?

Me: Allison, now is not the time. Daniel needs to do what the teacher tells him to do.

Allison: But why? He needs to learn to use his mind to investigate things and he can't do that if he just follows the rules. If he blindly follows the rules, he'll never understand what he is doing or why he does it.

Me: Part of what he is learning right now is to follow directions. At eight years old that is an important thing to learn. Once he learns to follow them, then he can learn to explore the whys of things.

Allison: Shouldn't he learn while he is doing something? I mean, what's the point of filling in the reading log? I mean, he read, and that's all that really matters.

Me: No, it matters that he learn to follow the directions that he is given. Part of his assignment is to fill in the reading log. It doesn't help that you are encouraging him not to do his work.

Allison: I'm not encouraging him not to do his work. I just don't see why it has to be done that way.

Me: Because that is the way he was told to do it by his teacher.

Allison: So?

Me: So his teacher gave him an assignment and part of the learning process for a boy who is eight is to learn to do what the teacher is telling him to do.

Daniel: Allison, I...

Allison: Daniel, I am having a conversation with Mom. You don't need to add in.

Me: Hold on. The conversation is about him. I think he can add his two cents if he wants. What is it Daniel?

Daniel: I'm going to do what the teacher says to do because that's what I'm supposed to do. I want to do what she says so I am going to.

Allison: Daniel, I'm talking to Mom right now about this. (To Me): Why can't he do it in his own way?

Me: Let's use karate as an example Allison. If you didn't learn each combination the way you were taught it, would you be good at karate?

Allison: No. But that's different, it's physical

Me: No, it isn't different. It's the same. If you want to get good at something you have to learn the basics first, and then move on to variations after you get good at the basics.


...and so it goes. It sounds like I handled the conversation pretty well, doesn't it? The thing is, there are parts of the discussion that I don't remember. What I remember is feeling like Allison was very adeptly building her case for not following directions. I felt my points were not well thought out and that she had a strong point. Why exactly, do we have to follow directions? Why can't we figure out the answers to things in our own way? Why can't we muddle through with our own unique brand of muddling until we arrive at a satisfactory answer? As long as our thought process is clear and we do the assignment, why can't we do things in our signature style of thinking? Won't we better understand them if we follow a logic that we understand?

That sounds wonderful until we are operating with flawed logic. It is up to our parents, mentors, teachers, and various other "experts" to teach us how to use clear logic. Teaching clear logic to my 14 year old is challenging, intellectually stimulating, and I want to be fully engaged in the conversation, but I am also painfully aware that my eight year old is listening to every word I say. What does it really matter to my 14 year old if I win or lose this debate? My eight year old, on the other hand, has everything to lose if he develops poor study habits at the beginning of his academic career because he thinks it doesn't matter if he does what the teacher tells him to do?

The other question I have, to confuse the issue even further, is what am I teaching my 14 year old about using her head if at bottom I am just telling her that she needs to do something a teacher or other person told her basically because she was told to? I have worked most of her life to teach her to think for herself. Am I really telling her to do what she's told without questioning? My short answer to that is no. I am not teaching her to just do what she's told without question. What I AM trying to teach her is to use her judgement wisely about breaking the rules. Sometimes its worth it and sometimes it isn't.

What I wound up telling my daughter (and my son if he was still listening) was that sometimes you follow the rules because the one with the power to give you what you want says so. If, for instance, Daniel would like a good grade on his homework assignment, he will follow his teacher's instructions and color in each day on his chart separately as he was told. If the grade doesn't matter, then he will do things his own way. My hope is that the grade matters to him and he will do the assignment correctly. The benefits (parental approval of choice, learning material more thoroughly, teacher approval, development of study habits, good grades)outweigh the disadvantages (parental disapproval of choice, bad grade, teacher's disapproval, not learning material as thoroughly as possible, not learning to follow instructions).

So what do you think? Am I giving my children good life skills by instructing them to use judgement about when to break the rules or am I teaching them to be conformists? I guess only time and maturity will tell.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait...or Is It Carrion?

So February vacation is over. I've made my last batch of Belgian Waffles, the snow forts are melting into the driveway and the kids are at school. Now it's time to write. What do I write about? Hmmmm....good question. The blank page is staring at me...better get a cup of coffee...

There. NOW I will sit down and write. Oh wait...my friend Dawn is online. I haven't chatted with her in a while. I'll just say hello while I finish my coffee. THEN I will write. My back is sore from working out with my dear hubby last night. Maybe I'll take some Ibuprofen...AND THEN I will write. Okay, I've had my juice and Ibuprofen. That should take effect in about 20 minutes, right? That gives me some time to get dressed...since I didn't change out of my pajamas yet. THEN I will write.

It seems that what is on my mind is writing...or the avoidance of doing so. I am excited then because a recent article a friend of mine shared explained how most good writers procrastinate a bit before they really write anything. They hardly ever just dive in and do it. It has to do with a fear of turning in something poorly written. It can't be poorly written if it isn't written at all right? So I must be about to write The Great American Novel because I can think of a thousand things to do besides write. This is in spite of the fact that I just quit a decent job to write for a bit.

But wait...my phone just vibrated. It wasn't a call...what was it? Should I answer it? Look to see what the latest Facebook post was or should I just ignore it? I am, after all, writing. This is my time to write. I'm not supposed to use this time to Facebook or Twitter, or Foursquare, or check email. I'm supposed to write.

If you're a writer does this sound like you? Do you sit down and get to it right away or do you circle the task of writing like a vulture waiting for the right time to pick a carcass clean? It could be either on any given day, am I right? For me, the act of writing feels natural, like an extension of myself...most of the time. On those days there is meat to what I write and my fingers fly across the keyboard or the pen whips across the page as if it has a mind of its own. Other days, like today, I have to coax the words out one at a time and it does feel like a dead carcass. Then I have to pick at writing a little at a time and it can be painful.

I am still struggling to find my writer's "voice" I think. I haven't hit that stride that I want to hit that is conversational. My friend Christine does a wonderful job with her blog. She is interesting, funny, and talks about things in a way that makes you care about what she's writing. Check this out: http://amusingsbnl.blogspot.com. I love reading her writing. She is amazing. And intelligent. And real. Maybe someday I will write like that. Or maybe I'll find a way to write like me. I mean, admiring someone is a good thing, right? So is emulating them to a degree, right? But I need to be me of course. Not her. I mean, seriously, the world already has Christine. She can't be duplicated nor should she be. I just want to hit the mark as often as she does.

Quick bathroom break and it's back to writing...

Here I am again, armed with a new cup of coffee and ready to write something amazing. Or not. Who knows? I just know I'm going to write and hope someone wants to read it. If they do, great. If they don't, I'll be still here, picking at the carcass...

The Rest is Still Unwritten...

Well folks, strap your seatbelts on. I'm about to dive out into the great unknown and try to forge a writing career for myself. I quit my job to write.

(Waits for a minute...)

Yep. You heard me. I quit my job. To write.

Think I'm stupid to give up the income? That's your right. You can think I'm stupid, crazy, irresponsible, whatever you want. It's okay. But I want this. I've been wanting this for a long time. I think the biggest mistake I've made with my career was to give up pursuing journalism out of fear. That's what I did you know. I was a reporter in college. For the Beverly Times. I loved doing it. I was having a great time pursuing leads, writing feature stories, and getting to know the people in my community (at the time). So why did I quit you ask? Fear. Plain and simple fear.

My coworkers had me convinced that because the divorce rate was so high in the field (I don't really know what the rate is...but I had been told)that maintaining a relationship while trying to be a writer was impossible. I wanted a family...badly. So I let go of the writing thinking that was a sacrifice I needed to make in order to have a happy family. What a dumb thing for me to do.I regret ever walking away from writing.

On second thought, I have no regrets. I wanted a family and that was my priority. I pursued a good, strong family and now I have that. I love my husband, my kids are the best I could ask for, and I have a great home in which we all live. I have two dogs and a cat, a nice yard and wonderful neighbors. So I'm living the dream.

Now it's time to expand my dream. My children are getting older and don't need my attention in the same intensive way that they did when they were infants and toddlers. It's time to start a career. One that I can be happy with and proud of.

I had a hard time quitting. I kept hearing the naysayers in my head telling me that I was making a mistake to give up the income I was giving up. There were many reasons for hanging on to the job. But there was always one reason to let it go...I was unhappy not pursuing my writing career. The third shift that I worked always left me tired and unable to be present for several days afterwards. But I don't need to make excuses. I want to pursue a writing career. That's what I'm going to do.

Thank God for my husband. He is a wonderful, supportive and loving man. He knows why I need to do this and supports me 100%. Literally now (ha, ha).

So what am I going to write? A combination of things. I'm going to blog...I'm going to work on a couple of the fiction pieces that I have been working on in NanoWriMo (check out www.nanowrimo.org if you don't know what I'm talking about)and I am writing a book on grief and grieving. I'll keep you posted about my work as it develops. Let me know what you think of it, please. Just be kind if you don't like it. And specific. Be specific about why you don't like it if you don't like it and just as specific if you do like it. I want to become an excellent writer and need feedback in order for that to happen.

I'll be posting some of my writing soon. I'll post links to it as I complete it. I would love to know what you think of it. And tell anyone you think might want to read what I write! It would be nice to have a following.

Friends or Foes?

My boys are almost exactly two years apart and they are very different people. My 8-year old likes art, video games, Pokemon and soccer. He wants to play the flute. He is emotional, expressive and VERY intelligent, but has a bit of trouble with low self-esteem. My 10-year old is confident, charming and also intelligent. He likes Legos, baseball, reading and karate. The one thing they seem to have in common these days? Fighting. With each other. They fight constantly. About everything. It makes me nuts. If one says something is cool, the other must immediately expound on how stupid it is. They are both last-word freaks too. Neither will let anything go. Their one saving grace is that it hasn't become physical...yet.

The last fight they had was because Christopher was humming a Christmas tune. Apparently he had altered the words earlier to make into a song that was insulting to Daniel. It was driving Daniel to distraction that Christopher was humming the song constantly. "Christopher, stop it! Stop humming that!" Daniel was yelling at this point.

"I'm not doing anything Daniel! I'm just humming! God, leave me alone!" Christopher responded just a little too innocently.

"Mom, Christopher won't stop humming that song!" (Here it comes, one of the boys always drags me into it)

"Daniel, he can hum a song if he wants to, just don't listen to it," I respond, not knowing that Christopher has rewritten they "lyrics."

"But Mom, he's making fun of me! He made up a mean song and he won't stop humming it" Daniel tells me.

"Christopher, stop bothering Daniel and do your homework," I say.

"Mom, it's just a Christmas song," Christopher insists...and on and on. Eventually both boys wound up doing chores and both were upset with each other as well as me. I can handle them being angry or unhappy with me, but it happens so much lately. Internally I just sigh and go about my business.

Unflattering, I know. I probably shouldn't talk about my children in this way lest they read my blog at some point, but blogging is about writing about real-life stuff. Stuff that people can relate to and I need to talk about this. Perhaps if I talk about it here I can have the patience to handle their constant blowouts in a mature and effective fashion...and not sound like Sam Kinison while I do it. Who knows, perhaps someone out there in the blogosphere has some helpful suggestions for dealing with two intelligent, spirited boys who insist that they are always right. My current method does not seem to be deterring the fighting, even though I think perhaps they are listening somewhat. Every time a fight erupts between the two boys, I sit them down and make them talk it out. When we come to an impasse where one or both are not listening and they are still fighting, they get chores. If they have so much energy to argue and not enough to listen, they must have the energy to help me out around the house a bit. It is an effective distraction from bickering plus I get the added benefit of some much-needed help.

Some would say that I am wasting my time making them talk it out. They are, after all, only 8 and 10, right? How much capability do my young men have to really understand and work things out? A lot actually. I think that even when they don't DO what they should they are listening. I believe this because I see it in action. We talk about listening to each other and letting each other finish. And while many conversations are laced with frustration there is a love and respect developing between the boys.

If Daniel falls down and gets hurt, Christopher is usually the first by his side trying to make sure he is okay. Christopher, despite his protestations to the contrary, cares deeply if Daniel is sad about something and crying. Last night Christopher came downstairs and told me that Daniel was crying. I asked him to tell Daniel to come to me and worked through why the cat doesn't want to stay in the bed with him (Daniel has a tendency to squish Xavier when trying to be affectionate).

Now how can two boys who say they don't like each other care so much?

Off the Grid?

Okay, so I'm going camping with my family. Some people look at me like I have three heads when I say I am going tent camping for a week, but I love it. There's something about being out in nature that calms me down. I don't know specifically what it is, but looking at the green of the earth, cooking out on a campfire, and not having the blare of the television constantly in the background has a calming effect on me. Probably I'm not the only one to discover this effect...otherwise camping would not have the popularity it does. The basic tasks of being "at camp" don't have the repellant effect to me that they do at home (Why does it seem cooler to wash dishes outside? Maybe I should take to doing it at home. Perhaps I would have less dishes stacked up in my kitchen).

I get into the simplicity thing. I like no radio...no phone...not a single luxury. True, eventually it wears thin and I want to come home to all that technology offers, but somehow eliminating that from my life on a temporary basis recharges me. The outdoors is a wonderful place to just ... well...just be. You don't HAVE to do anything. I mean, when you're camping (at least when I am camping) it seems somehow "legal" to do nothing. It's cool that you are just sitting in your camp chair with the sun on your face having a siesta. It's fine as paint that you are reading a book and not rushing somewhere to accomplish something. Camping is a meditative process for me. It takes me off the grid.

That's the good news. The bad news is that camping makes me go "off the grid" crazy while I prepare. There's just so much you have to plan ahead for. Everything that you have at your fingertips at home is, well, not with you when you camp. That's kind of what the aim is...to get "away from it all." But to prepare to be away from it all you have to accept that you will not have it all when you get there. Being prepared to camp means being prepared to improvise. It's a study in doing without. If you're practiced at it you can manage to Macgyver it in some pretty charming ways. But if you aren't practiced...like my family that goes perhaps once a year, you can wind up wet and cold and ...well...miserable.

This awareness of the need to prepare and practice is precisely why every time I plan to go camping I tell myself I am going to be packed in an orderly fashion, on time. Every time I am wrong. Every time I am caught running around like there's a fire and I am without the means to put it out. For some reason I fixate on something every time. I pack in a wacky fashion and usually wind up crying at some point due to stress. Stupid? Absolutely. The solution? To pack in an orderly fashion - make lists, check things off, plan meals, et cetera et cetera. I DO those things. Really. I do. What I DON'T DO is use my time wisely. I will start planning menus and wander off to find my dogs' rabies tags. I find the tags but need pliers to put them on...the pliers are in the basement so I head down there. When I get there I am distracted by the gates down there that I plan to use to contain my dogs at camp. I pick those up and bring those to the car. While I'm at the car I think, "I should go get the fishing equipment and put it in now so I don't forget. I grab the fishing rod, the hooks and sinkers and head down from the attic. As I am heading down I notice that there are life preservers in the attic as well. Will my friends be bringing their canoe? I go downstairs to call them to find out...and on and on.

Does this ever happen to you? This endless wheel of tasks that never seem to get accomplished? This nonstop interruption of your time? I mean, I want to go camping so why am I stalling?

How My 7 Year Old Got Really Namaste-y

So my husband and I are trying yoga. He bought some DVDs on beginning yoga for us to try (Done by Ashley Turner, is she good? I have no idea) and we have taken a stab at it this past week. With my personal "epic challenge" of doing "something" for at least 5 minutes a day, this seems to make sense. A couple of 40-somethings limbering up their midlife muscles and trying to make some positive changes in their lives. Sounds good right?

That was before my 7 year old showed us up. He wanted to join us. When he asked I wasn't sure what to say. Mostly because my husband and I have exactly ZERO time for just the two of us and he has been feeling the pinch of that lately. I was afraid if I said okay to Daniel I would make my husband feel like I didn't want to spend one on one time with him (you know how that is, right?). As I was contemplating and balancing the needs of my husband for my attention with the needs of a seven year old boy for my attention, my husband answered the question for me - "Sure Daniel, you can come and try it!"

So Daniel joined us. He was cute. He was funny. He was attentive. And boy was he limber. None of the poses were difficult for him. He chatted and joked his way through all the poses while Steve and I moaned and groaned through some vague representations of what the poses should be. Don't get me wrong we enjoyed ourselves and didn't do too badly for first-timers, but clearly our seven-year-old is in much better shape than we are. I was at turns touched with his sweet encouragements to me and mildly annoyed at his easy flexibility. ("Try having four kids and feeling that flexible pal," I thought ruefully.)

I'm so glad though that Daniel joined us. He was a gentle reminder of where we all start off in life. We all start off flexible, confident, and pleased with ourselves before the world batters us and pushes us into metaphorical corners where we stiffen up and forget how to be so pliable, moldable and free. Someone told me yoga is not so much about being perfectly flexible as it is being kind to yourself. So maybe we should encourage Daniel to keep doing it with us. He's a kind soul. He's definitely kind to his Mommy. Sometimes he could be kinder to his Daddy, but overall he is a sweet child. It might be a nice physical reminder to be kind to ourselves if he keeps coming.

Either way, I am hoping that yoga is just another tool in the arsenal of how to combat depression for me. If I have more energy and my body is in better shape, who knows where my life could lead?

Inches Today, Not Miles

I wrote today. I kept my appointment with Jennifer and we egged each other on. We're both writing stories and have decided to write together to ensure we make the time to write. She has been really encouraging. I'm having fun (gasp!) and feel like I moved my story forward in a positive direction. It might never be published. No one might ever read it. But, like my idol, Stephen King, I'm finding I'm okay with that. I'm okay with the idea that no one might ever read my story. I hope someone will want to eventually, but if no one ever does, I still think this has been a worthwhile exercise and will continue to be. First because I like to write, and second, I am doing this for me and only me. I need something for me. This is it.

So what am I writing about? It's a horror story about hoarding (as if hoarding itself weren't horrible enough). If you want more than that you're going to have to read it. I'll let you too. If you want to take the time to read it, I'll point you to the website where I have posted it.

The other thing I am sticking to is my commitment to at least five minutes of SOME kind of exercise. Yesterday I walked my dogs. They were so funny to watch. They haven't been walked since the weather turned cold (I HATE to be cold)so when the first warm day landed upon us I took them out for a spin around the block. They were in heaven. They could sniff things they weren't able to sniff all winter, they could look in yards, they could mark their territory and "read the newspaper" as a friend likes to call it. "Reading the newspaper" is when your dog sniffs the same spot for about fifteen minutes (if you let him or her). It's their way of checking out what's going on in the neighborhood. Finding out who's who and who's doing what. The only thing I think would have been better would be if I could find some place to let them run free. I would love to let them off the leash so they could just run. Dogs are supposed to run. It's what they're built to do. Especially a Golden Retriever and a Beagle/Basset Hound mix.

But I digress. I got twenty minutes of walking in with my doggies yesterday. That counts as exercise. It does. Even if I'm not sweating. I got out and moved. So I'm keeping my word so far. My word to who? To both you and me my friend reader. I told you that for the next thirty days I was going to try to make sure I did something for at least five minutes every day and so far I have stuck to it. I don't think I've made any huge changes yet, but it feels good to have managed to have the willpower to at least keep my word about this.

I almost forgot to include what I did today! I managed to squeeze in about 1/2 hour of yoga. My husband and I are trying it out together. It's nice to find something we can do at home, that doesn't cost a bazillion dollars, and we don't have to hire a baby sitter for. We need some hobbies we can do together, and who knows, maybe we have hit upon something. It would be nice to find something to keep ourselves physically fit that neither one of us is the expert at yet. We're both starting out as beginners with this. It's definitely going to take some getting used to in order to get decent at yoga, but definitely worth it. Even if it never becomes a hobby, or even something I like, it filled the "at-least-five-minutes-of-exercise-a-day" space. That alone is a good thing for me and my health.

I've also kept my word about staying away from fast food. I promised my kids I would give up all fast food for Lent. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me. I find it so much easier to stop somewhere along my route home from work than it is to bring a bag lunch. But I haven't stopped once. Every time I start thinking about breaking my word I think about my beautiful daughter who has sworn off all meat until the end of Lent. She has done a terrific job of avoiding meat and eating more vegetables. My hat is off to her and I think I would be a big jerk if I couldn't keep my word to her about staying away from fast food joints.

Again, this may not seem like a big deal to you - after all the food at places like McDonald's and Wendy's is total crap anyway. It doesn't taste that good if you really pay attention. You could look at what I'm doing that way. You could, but then you'd miss the point of what I am trying to do here. The pretense that I am working with is that if you do ANYTHING for thirty days, it can become a habit. I want to change my mindset to a healthier one. I want to be eating the right things and DOING the right things to get and stay healthy. I'm also working with the assumption that if I start with a small change, and make that a habit, I can make larger changes. I'll make these larger changes because I built up several smaller changes. I bet you could do it too if you wanted. If you wanted to you could do it with me. But I wont' pressure you. You have to be ready to make the changes in order for this to work.

The other concept I am trying to work with is moderation. I think that it is important to look at every decision with moderate-view glasses on. I know, for instance, that I will not ever succeed in getting in shape if I tell myself that I will NEVER have "(fill in the blank)" again. As soon as I do that, I will want whatever is off-limits to me. You all know this as the "forbidden fruit syndrome." Instead, I will say to myself that I will only have a LITTLE of "(fill in the blank)."

I really hope this approach works. I don't know if you'll see any measurable changes yet. But it isn't time for the next picture yet anyway. I have time. Til next Friday before I need to post another picture. But I'll tell you a secret: I don't plan to give up even if I don't see any changes in a MONTH. I need to give this time. I just hope there ARE some changes in a month. Can you cheer me on?

It's been quite a while since I posted here. I guess I took a long hiatus. Probably because I was trying to stabilize my depression. It seems to come and go in waves. I think its on its way out thank goodness. My days of feeling overwhelmed and immobile appear to be less and less.

I think I should fill you in on things a bit. Maybe this could help you too (or someone you know) at some point. If I could help you or someone you know even a little bit to understand and deal with depression, I would feel so good about what I have been through.

For the better part of 20 years (perhaps even more) I have struggled not to feel depressed. There have been exercise plans, therapists, medications, journals and various and sundry approaches to dealing with things. There have been many days when my big goal for the day has been to get myself out of bed and just make sure my children have the basics of what they need to get through the day. It was a success on some occasions if I got out of my pajamas.

After a long battle to be able to function on a daily basis, I seem to be coming out of the proverbial woods. I have more energy. I feel more positive about life in general. I have been able to turn the corner and change my perspective a bit. This is due in part to medication, but that isn't all of the solution. For those of you who may be reading this and wondering, medication is a part of the picture (better living through chemistry a friend of mine used to say), but it doesn't fix everything. The problems you have are still the problems you have no matter what pill you throw at them. I'd be a liar though if I didn't say they helped.

The right medication has helped me to find some equilibrium. Each day doesn't feel like an insurmountable mountain since I found the right medication for me. Now I need to get to work fixing the things that slid while I found a way to not feel like Sisyphus each day. There's a lot, but I think I have finally found the right attitude.

I'm not going to expect drastic results. I'm just going to aim for SOME results. A friend of mine offered me this nugget and I think I'll use it as a focal point: "Inches, not miles."

While battling depression things have slid quite a bit. One of the chief things that slid was my physical fitness. For reasons I won't get into here, I went from an Aerobics instructor with a fairly decent body to a grossly obese 44-year old woman. Now it is true I taught aerobics many years ago so it isn't exactly fair to compare my body then with my body now. Nevertheless, I used to be in MUCH better shape. I used to walk for miles, could hike, teach aerobics, swim, and bike. Now I am lucky to make a set of stairs without breathing hard.

I don't care about being in shape to fit into a size zero pair of jeans or look good for any particular event either. I care about being in better shape because if I'm not I won't be around to see my children grow up and I won't be able to enjoy my dogs, my husband, or my hobbies. I know more than a few people who became old before their time because they failed to take care of themselves. That will not be me.

So here's what I propose. I am going to spend the next 30 days journaling how well I do with my "Epic Challenge to Be Healthy." I am going to post a picture here and if you want to hold me accountable, please do. I am hoping that people will be kind about their comments but firm in their expectation that I do what I say I'm going to do.

What do I say I'm going to do? It's really simple. I'm going to make small changes that I am hoping will become habits over the next 30 days. What changes am I going to make? Before you start suggesting this or that work-out plan, know that I am really out of shape. Not just physically either. I have a serious lack of will-power and feel very foolish about this "Epic Challenge." What if I fail? What if I make a big scene and I look even worse after 30 days? What if nothing changes?

My answer to those questions is quite frankly, I don't know. I don't know if I can make these changes, but I'm going to try. I can't be any worse off than I am now, can I? I mean, as of this moment, I'm not successful at changing my lifestyle. If I manage to change anything, I will have been successful. That is my theory. I have to have the right attitude for anything to change, so that is the attitude I am starting with.

So what tangible changes am I going to start with? They may seem small to you, but I am going to start with this: EVERY day I am committing to doing at LEAST 5 minutes of exercise. I know that is small potatoes to you work-out gurus, but it's something for me. I have three children and making a commitment to do ANYTHING every day is a big deal. No matter what I try to commit to there is always some interruption. It isn't a bad comment about my children - they're the best - but they are kids and kids need stuff...like food, clothes, love. I'm happy to give those things but it IS an interruption. They aren't the only ones who interrupt either. My husband, who is a loving, kind, sweet man, would like at least a passing acknowledgement from me that we live together. I mean, more often than not we are two ships passing in the night, but that's the way it is when you both work and you have children and outside commitments.

So my changes will be these for now:(1) to move for at least 5 minutes every day (could be more than that but never less). I intend to increase that amount in increments as I improve my fitness level. (2)to try Shakeology - a friend swears by it and I think I can try it for a month. (3) to limit my sugar intake - I have a sweet tooth and want to cut back - one dessert 3x/week (again, no big deal to those of you health-food experts, but a big deal for me).(4) to stay away from the fast food chains (I am susceptible to and from work...it's more convenient than trying to remember to make something to take with me).


I know, small goals. But maybe in a month I'll feel like taking on more. Who knows, maybe I'll take on more sooner. The activities that I am taking on include: swimming, karate, and walking my dogs. I have two of them - a Golden Retriever named Brady and a Beagle/Basset hound mix named Scarlett. They love to be outside. Maybe they can inspire me. But for now I'll take the 5 minutes. "Inches, not miles, right?"

One last thing: I read in a facebook post that I inspired a friend to get going again. If I inspire you, that would be a wonderful thing for me to hear. I love it if something I do motivates you to do something positive for yourself or others. It might be the fuel I need to get my sorry butt off the couch!

Vacation, Family and School

It's been a few weeks. I won't apologize, because first of all, no one reads this anyway, so there is no one to apologize to. Secondly, I am writing here for me. I like to write, this is kind of my journal, and I will write when I want to. So nyah. Third, I was busy with the rest of my life. I had vacation, we had family visiting and it has been CRAZY busy. Fourth, I am in school. I write a lot for the class. In fact, I write for all of the class since its online. And finally, there's no point to writing if one has nothing to say. And I didn't for a while. But now I do.

So...there's my family. Over the fourth of July I spent some time with my younger brother Rob and his family. They came to our house and hung out for a week. They are terrific. The visit was terrific. I enjoyed them thoroughly. We barbecued, we went to parades, took bike rides, had campfires and made s'mores. It was terrific. It was so nice to hang out with them. The other part of the visit I really enjoyed is that my niece and nephews are starting to get more comfortable with me. See, I'm not as cool as my younger brother. He does silly things with the kids. He makes them laugh. He sung them to sleep each night by singing them the "Pencil Neck Geek" song. It's a silly song he made up about how they are all pencil necked geeks and need to go to sleep now. He does all these funny E.T.-type moves and gets them laughing. It riles them up a bit, but it also helps them to feel a real bond with him. The kids all love him for this stuff and he can be a hard act to follow. I am just not that funny or cool. So sometimes I feel overshadowed by his charisma.

But having the kids around for the amount of time they were around helped them to get over being shy around me a little I think. I cooked meals for them, made sure they had clean clothes, provided places to swim, dig, bounce and run. I think they might have sensed that even though I am not the life of the party like Rob is, I love them too. Very much. My nephew Wesley lost a tooth while at the Fourth of July parade. I put it in a gold box for him to take home to his mother, and put it in his back pack. I put bandaids on his knees when he had a minor crash with his bike. I took he and his sister (my niece) to Canobie Lake park. I make them lunch, I take them on walks, and read them stories at night.

I hope that these things leave traces of my love on their hearts. I don't expect them to remember all these little things. In fact, it's fine if they don't remember any specifics. I just hope that all of these little things combined helps them to know that I truly love them. I hope that when and if they think of me they have fond thoughts and feelings.

My nephew Noah is so adorable. He just turned 3 in June and his language skills are growing by leaps and bounds. He is adventurous (make sure you know where he is at all times Gummy! ) and he has a terrific laugh.

Scotty, Noah's brother, loves his Mommy so much. He has to check in with her regularly. It is such a contrast to his all boy ways when he is running around the yard with his cousins. (I think of them as the Three Musketeers, as they do everything together whenever they spend time together). He can be running around the yard playing guns, or hunting, or making jumps for his cars and trucks, and then he will take a minute to go to his Mommy, first three fingers in his mouth, and ask for his blanky. He likes to rub the tag on his blanket. He has done this since he was a baby. It is so soothing to him. Jackie, his Mom, and I have talked frequently about how the fingers he sucks are the same ones she did as a kid. I wonder if thumb/finger sucking is genetic?

Wesley is my oldest brother's (Billy) boy. He is eight. He is lightning fast, quiet, and sweet. I have found it hard to get to know him because he talks so little around me. I think he is a bit intimidated by me for some reason. But I think he is loosening up some though. He loves to play Wii games. He loves bike riding. He loves anything physical.

Brianna, my niece, is Wesley's sister. She is six and so beautiful. She has thick curly black hair. She has this lovely skin and she wants so badly to be with the boys doing what they are doing. But, as I well remember being a sister, she is often excluded from the boys' games. But that's okay because she can hang out with us girls. She loves to swim, is a good painter, and loves to read about horses, ponies and princesses.

I'm sad. I love these kids so much but I'm not sure how often in the future I will get to see them. My brother and his wife divorced, and you know how that can go. I am trying to maintain a friendship with her, and I hope to keep contact, but sometimes these things can be difficult. This is so hard because I like Rachel. I don't fully understand what happened between her and Bill, my brother, but I feel its none of my business anyway. I hope that I can continue to have a relationship with her and the kids, but I am not good at managing conflict. I am hoping to stay away from issues surrounding why she and Bill are no longer married and stick to keeping in touch with her and the kids.

Only time will tell how this goes I guess.

So anyway, after a really fun week with my niece and nephews and my own family, its back to life as usual. I am in my second class of my graduate program, and I hope that I am developing some leadership skills. I feel completely overwhelmed with the work, but I am enjoying the class. I think I might have to reprioritize my life a little so I can continue on in this program however. The pace is just out-of-control. I think I need to focus a bit on time management skills. Just to be sure that I can complete everything. I got an A in my first class, Business Communications, so I am pleased. I also got a 97% on my first paper in my second class, so I am pleased with that. But I need to make sure that I keep a handle on things or they will get away from me.

And sleep. I need sleep on a regular basis or I will fall apart. I have already had one major illness. I need to be sure it doesn't happen again. I can't burn the candle at both ends forever. So I have to get more strict about a routine.

With that in mind, I think I need to go to bed now. I will write more soon, when I have something to say. Check in if you like. I will try to post something new every once in a while.

Can We Move Away from Lukewarm Please?

The school year is over. Phew! I am so glad to be shut of it. I know that those of you who know me will probably be surprised to hear that because my children are doing well in school, but believe me when I say this: I am glad to be done with this school year.

Why? You ask. I'll tell you why. I am glad to be done with this school year because I am tired of dealing with people who don't have my children's best interests at heart. This year has emphasized for me that people in general do only what is absolutely necessary to get by. My children are all very intelligent. I am not bragging when I say this. I am just stating a fact. They think about things in interesting ways. They continually surprise me by the complexity of thought that they are capable of on a regular basis. If you are connected with me through Facebook, you will see a good example of what I mean. My daughter wrote a poem for a class. It is amazing. And she writes stuff like this regularly.

And the school does nothing to encourage her writing ability. Her teacher this year was terrific. But she had a class of 28 to manage. She barely had enough time to handle the requirements of MCAS preparation, let alone focus any attention on a budding writer.

The teacher my son had this year for kindegarten does what she does. The kids tend to like her and benefit from her...my daughter loved her when she had her. But my son could take her or leave her. He did very well in school and brought home glowing reports. But when asked if he would miss her he said, "Nah. Not really." She did nothing memorable with the class, and I can't recall one single thing that Christopher came home bubbling about. Nothing.

So my children cruise through their educational experience unchallenged. They don't stretch themselves. They aren't challenged. They are learning how to conform, to not rock the boat, and to do what is expected of them.

I suppose I should be happy that they are getting A's on their report card. I should expand my chest with pride when reading the "Is a pleasure to have in class" comments. Part of me is glad to see those things for sure. Having friends whose children are really struggling with the world of academia makes me appreciate that I don't have those struggles. (Boy, did that sound snotty or what? Sorry.)But I am not completely happy. I'm not happy because my children can become background. Because they do not have a "problem," they can get passed over. Their talents may not get recognized, polished, or developed. I want them to develop what they have to the fullest potential.

So what do I do? How do I help them to develop the talents and skills that they have? I want them to enjoy being children. I don't want to load them down with extra "work," but I want them to challenge the things they take for granted as constants. I want them to ask why and what if. I want them to poke, stir, add to, change and create. I want them to play. I want them to inquire, investigate and hypothesize. So where do I turn?

My children are amazing, talented, creative, smart, funny, compassionate and kind people. I don't want those things to wither on the vine, unnourished. So where do I turn to feed these soul traits of theirs?