She has that look — a shell of the formerly vibrant, social woman clinging to her last rope, reaching for a shred of hope as the overwhelming waves of chaos crash toward her again.  I know it well.  She’s usually in the back row of my parenting presentations, or quietly listening at the moms’ social outing, and she needs someone to tell her things are going to be okay. 

She may be the mother of a colicky baby, a defiant toddler, a learning-challenged fourth grader or a rebellious teen.  She may have wonderful, well-adjusted children but still feel completely overwhelmed by it all.  She also might be a he, of course, who feels like he’s the only one out there forging uncharted territory.  She might get paid to work (or not), but it doesn’t matter.  She loves her child with every ounce of her soul, and she treasures those moments of joy, but she still feels like she can’t pull it together like all the other parents seem to do. 

I know this woman because I have been there.  I am she, and she is we, and we need to do a better job reaching out to that person. 

Parenting is one of life’s most rewarding and toughest challenges, and anyone who says otherwise is not telling the whole story.  Yes, some flow through it more naturally than the rest of us do, but I don’t think it was ever meant to be easy.  Perfect parenting is a myth.  June Cleaver and Carol Brady do not exist in the real world, and the SuperNanny doesn’t even have her own children.  The difficulty isn’t necessarily bad: parenting is a great opportunity to for adults to stretch and learn beyond our imagination, and working through tough challenges is an amazing way to grow.

But I don’t believe we’re meant to face that challenge in a vacuum. We need a friend to hear about our latest episode and offer ideas to face the next one. We need someone to help us see the long view and assure us that we didn’t scar our child for life this morning. We need a frequent reminder that kids are resilient, that our mistakes are forgiven and that next time, we will respond better. We need a friend who pulls us out of that ocean of diapers and tantrums and shines light on the moments we can laugh about and celebrate. We can’t expect all that from one person: we need a community of grace.

So let’s make a pact to skip the judgement, finger pointing and mommy wars. Let’s stop competing over food, child care, schools and activities. Let’s reach out to one another and offer support.

What if we sat next to that woman in the back row and listened to her story? What if we reached out to the parent whose child misbehaves in school? What if we remembered how hard it is to simply get out the door with young children and congratulated that mom for a job well done?

Just for today, let’s stop pretending we have all the answers. Let’s hold back our judgment and encourage one another. It will make a huge difference to that struggling parent. And I bet it will make your day a little brighter too.

It works for me. 

photo credit: Béni Rivière

These words from a recent message keep echoing through my mind:

The past is not ours to change. 

The future is not ours to see.

There is only one call that God extends.

It is here.

And it is now.

–Rev. J. Douglas Paterson

Makes me wonder, regardless of our faith tradition:

Are we too caught up in the past, future, or self to notice what’s happening here and now?   

What are we doing here and now to make the world a better place?

How do I discern what I should be doing, here and now?

Listening for that still small voice in the cacophony (or symphony?) of the world. . .

Everywhere I go, people are trying to find balance. 

Whether it’s work/life balance, time/money balance, food/fitness balance, you name it, balance is the answer.  If we only had balance, everything would be Okay. 

So, do you know anyone who has found it yet? Someone who has actually achieved balance and sustained it?

After years of striving for that elusive point of balance, I’m starting to wonder if we’re searching for the wrong thing. In fact, maybe it’s just plain unnatural to stay balanced.

Consider a good old fashioned teeter totter.  Remember those?

Those teeter totters (or seesaws, another technical term) are fun to ride, aren’t they?  Why?  We enjoy the thrill of the ups and downs. It wouldn’t make any sense to sit on one, balancing in the middle.  That would be boring, and if you think about it, weirdly controlling and stressful.   There’s a bit of risk — bumping at the bottom or flipping off the top — but you don’t get the thrill unless you jump on and let the ride do its thing. 

For some reason, we don’t have teeter totters on playgrounds any more.  I guess they’re not safe enough.  We can’t guarantee bad things won’t happen on a teeter totter.   They do. But without them, we miss some excitement. 

I’m beginning to think of life as a big multi-axis teeter totter.  There are moments of balance, but they’re fleeting, and if we’re not centered we might spin off the axis.   Having a center is important.  Still, most of the time we’re floating back and forth, transitioning from one extreme to the other.   We can’t completely control it, because other people are riding the teeter totter too.  That’s okay.  The highs and lows help us appreciate life.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re spending too much energy trying to control everything in the middle — keep it perfectly balanced — and in the process, we miss all the fun. 

I think it’s time to jump back on and enjoy the ride, even if we hit a bump or two.

What do you think?  Are you tired of searching for that perfect balance point?

***

Check out Teeter Talk, written by a guy in my hometown who interviews local celebrities on his backyard teeter totter.  What fun! 

Or see my earlier post on flux and flow for another “unbalanced” metaphor. 

***

photo credits: liber , John Brownlow

We’re swirling through the whirlwind of May, when every team, club and class has just a few of end-of-the-year concerts or parties, times three.  It feels a bit like December’s cookie conspiracy, but this time everyone needs a chaperone, a special treat, or a hand-crafted gift of appreciation.  All are wonderful reasons for celebration, of course!  I’m just a bit frazzled, like many of you, perhaps? 

I may be cutting back on my posts a bit, or trying to keep them short and sweet.  Today, I’ll share with you some parenting wisdom from other folks on the web:

On Speaking of Faith, Krista Tippett discusses The Spirituality of Parenting with Rabbi Sandy Sasso

On Uncommon Misconceptions, a mom shares the complex emotions of love and loss on Mother’s Day. 

On Holy Experience, Ann experiences grace on an imperfect Mother’s Day.

May your spring be full of celebratory joy. 

How’s spring going for you? 

photo credit: shakotte

Ever since I quit my full time job (when child #3 was born), I’ve had trouble answering that common question:

What do you do?

For an embarassingly long time I would answer some variation of “I’m a stay home mom, but I used to do something important. . . ” (well, not exactly that, but it crossed my mind).  Yes, I know being a full time mother is important — that’s why I made the choice to become one — but I felt like there was so much more to me than the stereotype of “stay home mom.”  Besides that, I hardly ever was at home. 

I’m still a (hardly ever) stay home mom, but I also teach parent workshops, I tutor, I spend lots of time writing (even if it’s online, not on paper), I volunteer here and there, and I am interested in all kinds of things.  I’m not comfortable picking one label that defines me.  I’m multifaceted.  Aren’t we all?

Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira offers a great solution in Mama’s Got a Fake ID:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom:

I’m a mom and _____________.

She suggests we think of one thing we’d like people to know about us and pair it with the awesome job of being a mom.  Some examples:

• I’m a mom and a gardener.
• I’m a mom and a lawyer.
• I’m a mom and a preschool volunteer.
• I’m a mom and a runner.

Or, go with active verbs and say:

• I raise kids and raise horses (dogs?  gerbils?).
• I write, volunteer at school and take care of my family. 
• I drive around in circles enriching my children (okay, maybe not impressive, but accurate!)

Somehow the active method is easier for me.  I don’t have to wonder, “Is it okay to call myself a writer?” when I’m perfectly comfortable saying that I write, because I do.  I guess that does make me a writer, but that’s another conversation. 

The mom and ____ phrasing serves as a conversation opener.  It connects being a mom with other passions and important parts of me.  It also provides a more accurate, natural and broader picture what a mom does and who I am.  So here’s the line I might use next time I get that question:

I take care of my family and write about my adventures. 

And help parents communicate better.  And tutor for the ACT.  And volunteer.  And run around in circles, sometimes.   Okay, I’ve got some focusing work to do!

How do you answer that dreaded question:  What do you do? 

Please check out Magpie Girl’s inspiring article on this same subject:  Speaking with Authority, and find other helpful “works for me” tips at We Are THAT Family. 

Read more of my reflections on the Mama’s ID book here.

photo credit: Sarahnaut

photo credit: Exolucere

Perhaps I should have paid more attention. 

I knew becoming a mother would change me, and yes, I had nine months or so to prepare for it, but no. . .I don’t think we’re ever quite prepared for the impact of motherhood.  It hit me hard on day one.

I gave birth at my workplace.  It’s not as exciting as it might sound–I was an administrator at the same hospital where my children were born, so one day I was trotting down the halls in a suit and heels, and about 36 hours later, I was exhausted, elated, and quite a mess after the birth of my baby boy.  How’s that for connecting work and family? 

I was thrilled, but of course I was wiped out and feeling really grimy.   As most of you know, there’s no rest for the weary in the hospital (isn’t that ironic?) with the constant flow of nurses and all those other people who appear to check on various things.  And soon, I knew, my esteemed colleagues (not to mention family) would come knocking on my door to visit.   Unless you have a really good reason (like giving birth, maybe?), that’s how it rolls working at the hospital.

I was okay with the visits, but all I wanted was a shower.  After giving birth, you know.  Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so. 

Because every time I tried to move in that direction, someone needed a piece of me.  And when the umpteenth nurse asked for one more thing, I just about lost it. 

Her sympathetic reply:  “You’re going to have to learn, Mama, that you can’t just do what you want any more.” 

I was ticked.  But she was right.  Did I mention that she wanted me to feed my baby boy?

When I remember that moment, I still feel ticked at that nurse, because I wasn’t her Mama, her delivery was condescending, and I didn’t want to hear it.  But I also have to laugh at how clueless and self-absorbed I was.  Of course I had to delay my shower to feed my baby.  Little did I know how quickly those things I once thought were necessities would become indulgent luxuries.  Such as showers.  Or sleep.

There’s no denying it:  motherhood changes us, and in so many ways, there’s no going back.  Last week I talked about mourning some parts of the me I used to be before launching into parenthood.  I believe it’s not too late to tap back into some of those elements. 

I also know that I’ve grown in ways I never dreamed possible before becoming a mom.  The joys and challenges refine me on a daily basis.  We’ll talk about those benefits next.

But for today, if you’re a parent, when did you realize parenting wasn’t quite what you had in mind?

Inspired by Caryn Dahlstrand’s Rivadeneira’s new book Mama’s Got a Fake I.D.:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All That Mom.  Click here for my first post in this series.

photo credit: bies

I might be having an identity crisis. 

It hit me in the midst of an amazing Vienna Teng concert at our local hot spot The Ark, for so many different reasons. 

Vienna’s performance moved me.  She’s so talented, so sharp, so lyrical and poignant–you MUST check out her music.  She sings of intimate personal issues as well as major world events in a smart way that leaves interpretation up to the listener.  So I started interpreting, and suddenly, the whole concert was all about ME, of course.

I know that sounds crazy (and egocentric), but you see, Vienna went to my same university, so it got me thinking about my view of the world back then.  Like any college student, I had my whole life in front of me– a blank slate with so many options.  I wanted to do it all and honestly believed that I could.  She sang a beautiful song about world and life-changing events including the fall of the Berlin Wall, where I lived for a few months.   It was a powerful time in my life, when I first traveled the world, discovered my independence, and fell in love with a boy back home all at the same time.  Then she wrapped up with Grandmother’s Song, which starts out sounding like an old-fashioned honky tonk and finishes with a powerful message about pursuing a woman’s dreams.  It was perfect.  I loved it.

But after we got home, I blubbered like a baby.  My poor husband was so confused. 

I think I was mourning the young woman I used to be, the dreams I used to hold dear, and the passions I pursued.  Now let me be clear:  I love my life today.  I’ve been shaped and refined by the twists and turns, I don’t regret any choices we’ve made, and I wouldn’t go back if I could.  Life has led me in a direction very different from what I expected, and the blessings have been greater than I could imagine. 

I must admit, though, that there are pieces of me that I’ve pushed aside through these last few seasons of life.  And I feel like it’s time to reconnect with some parts of the me I used to be.  No, not all–I’m happy to leave a few parts by the wayside–but yes, some.

I’m reading a great book that speaks to this and much more:

Mama’s Got a Fake I.D.:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom by Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira.  She writes from a Christian perspective, but I think the issues about motherhood and cultural identity are universal.  As I work my way through this book, I hope to share with you some thoughts along the way.  Stay tuned.

For now, do you mourn parts of the person you used to be?  If so, come along the journey and let’s work it out together.   Tell me what you think.

I laughed at the ridiculousness of it and how far we have come since those days.  But in some sense, I cried at the irony, because there have been times when I’ve felt almost that separated from the world of business for which I trained.   Not directly from family or friends, but subtle messages from the world at large. 

Carla Barnhill speaks of the church’s pressure on mothers in The Myth of the Perfect Mother.  I’ve been ruminating (one of my new favorite weird words) on her message.  Some of it hit home for me and some seemed a little far-fetched.  As soon as I process my thoughts, I’ll write more.  If you’re interested, join Carla and her friend Caryn’s thought-provoking conversations at The Mommy Revolution. 

In the meantime, enjoy.  Does something in this video strike a chord with you?

Quick!  An uncoordinated list of seven quick Friday thoughts, hosted by Jennifer at Conversion Diary:

1. My daughter’s K-2 school held a belated Martin Luther King day assembly last week.   I wish I could express how amazing it was.  There’s something pure about kindergarteners of multiple races, creeds and languages singing “the world is a rainbow” with a child’s innocence and sincerity.  My daughter’s class performed a little skit about Ruby Bridges.  After the assembly they raced back to the classroom and ripped up their “whites only” signs so those words would never come true again.  The whole afternoon made this verse come to life for me. 
2. I sent my boy scout up to the northern hinterlands in subzero weather to watch a regional dogsled race, and my middle son was sweltering hot on his 5th grade “winter survival” field trip at 30 degrees.  I guess we’ve become true northerners now.  Sorry, Mom and Dad!
3. My shingles is much, much better, and I’m so grateful for the love, support, and Valtrex.  Now I’m a little run down and weirdly tingly in places, but SO much better.   What a blessing.
4. My two younger children are home from school today with a slight fever.  They might be having a little too much fun together.   What do you think:  is it okay to have fun on a sick day?
5. A friend suggested I cut down on my habit of exaggerated self-deprecation when I talk about my “work.”  She might be right.   I’ll have to process this with you soon.
6. I’m reading an amazing book:  The Myth of the Perfect Mother:  Rethinking the Spirituality of Women by Carla Barnhill.  It’s controversial.  More to come. 
7. I got tagged in Facebook to write 25 random things about me, and thought I’d share it with you here.  Be warned–it’s very random. 

Make it a fabulous Friday!

photo credit: dharmacat

Today I joined the throngs of people flocking to health clubs to get back in shape this week.  I shouldn’t have been surprised by the suddenly packed parking lot and the crowded fitness center at my YMCA:  in January alone, over one million Americans join health clubs each year.  And sadly, up to 75% of those quit their goals within the first three months. 

But today,  the place was teeming with people prepared to sweat off their holiday indulgences (cookies, anyone?).  I found an empty bike, adjusted my settings and hopped on, ready to tackle the imaginary trail ahead.  Twenty-plus wheels cranked, spinned, climbed and coasted up and down the virtual hills and valleys.  Twenty-plus bodies synchronized with the pounding music and our instructor’s commands.  Twenty-plus souls pushed, pulled, cycled and sweated to gain some strength and burn a boatload of calories in our quest for fitness.   We felt proud.  We felt strong.  We felt high on the endorphins.  Okay, we were gasping for air, trying not to throw up and about to feel exhausted, but not just yet.

At that moment, we were full of hope.  Full of optimism.  Full of energy.

Can you imagine how much hope, optimism and energy fills America’s health clubs in the month of January every year?  One million new souls, believing that this year we will really get back in shape, conquer those demons, and get on with a healthier lifestyle.  It’s a valliant effort, even it costs us over $18 billion per year, and it might be short lived.  I’m part of it, in my own sporadic way. 

But I can’t help thinking about all of these people who come out of hiding this week.  What if we could capture all that new energy?  What if we could harness it and channel it to last the whole year through?  What if one million people used all of that energy and optimism to promote a different kind of health–not just body-sculpting–but a community-building kind of health?   

What if, instead of just working out, a million newly energized, motivated people could instead work together to:

• feed someone. . . toward stamping out hunger
• tutor a child. . . toward improved literacy
• give to a charity. . . toward ending poverty
• visit a church (or temple, or mosque, or someone who needs a friend) . . . toward a better community

What if. . . ? 

Imagine the possibilities.  

Where would you channel these one million energetic, hopeful people?