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?

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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. 

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photo credits: liber , John Brownlow

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?

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on flux

What do I mean by “flux of life”? 

From the Free Online Dictionary:

flux (fluks) n.  1. a. A flow or flowing.  b. A continued flow; a flood.  2. The flowing in of the tide

 

As a child, I anticipated a straight path to success.  I was an ambitious girl, coming of age in the 80s, believing I could “do it all.”  I dreamed of being queen of the corporate world and a beautiful family.  Then reality rushed over me.  In reality, my life has flux-ed through the seasons:

college:  a river of rapids and whirlpools–turbulent, challenging, exciting, invigorating

20s/early marriage:  forging a new stream, building my flow, enjoying a rising tide

working mom of two babies:  an unexpected flood.  trying to keep my head above water.  struggling to balance.  gratitude in surviving.  reluctant to get out of the exciting waters.

baby number three:  time to move out of the flood zone and crawl up on the banks.  watching the career stream flow by.  seeking stiller waters.  finding a new stream. 

 mom of three young ones:  depending on the day, a varying flux–a steady drip, like water torture (not my metaphor), raging rapids, floods, or flowing tides. 

today–three kids in school, flexible work:   feeling more buoyant.  negotiating a new stream.  anticipating more “flux” to come.

Along the journey, I fluctuate.  Sometimes I struggle.  Sometimes I know my choices are right.  As I adapt and evolve, sometimes I wonder whether I’m losing—or finding?—my true self.  Is this maturity, or weakness?  The blessings are abundant, but different from what I expected.  Can I ever go back to my original plans?  Do I want to?   In which stream do I want to row?

The flux metaphor works for me as I flow through life’s seasons.  How does it resonate with you? 

If money were no object, how would you plan the perfect reunion?

I would invite friends and family who have scattered all over the world and bring them together.  I’d include people from my hometown I haven’t seen in ages, people from college, colleagues from my professional career days, and friends with whom I’ve lost touch.  I’d make sure every cousin, great aunt, and long lost friend was invited.  They wouldn’t be pressured to come, of course, but I’d cast the net widely so everyone could be included.

It would be so fun to introduce my friends from different walks of life.  Those with different political persuasions might find something in common (they’d have me, at least), and might even know mutual friends.  They could invite those friends to the party too, and more people would find interesting things to share.  

I’d leave the dress code open.  I might try a theme, but hey, if someone shows up in his pajamas, that’s cool.  We’d have a variety of nourishment, so everyone could imbibe what she likes or try something new.  We’d have games, activities, and breakout projects to keep things lively and fun. 

What if things get awkward, say perhaps, Uncle Bob drones on about inappropriate topics?  I’d have a magic wand that would turn down his volume so we have a little less of Uncle Bob.  Everyone would have her own wand, so she could customize her experience at the reunion.  People could stay as long as they like, or just pop in and go on their merry ways.

How fun it would be to reconnect with so many different people in my life. 

Fantasy?

Nope.

Facebook.

I know, I’m probably the last blogger to get a clue, but I just joined a few days ago and it’s changing my world.   I’m from that in-between generation a bit skeptical about social networking, but thought I’d better take the plunge before my kids do.  What a blast from the past!  I’m reconnecting with people from high school, other places I’ve lived, and even busy friends here at home.  And it doesn’t cost a dime.  Except a lot of time, if you allow it.   I can’t wait to get going on Twitter, but I’ll have to set some ground rules first.  For myself.  So the kids get fed once in awhile. 

What about you?  Are you on Facebook?  Wanna be my friend?

Check out Rocks in My Dryer for other Works for Me Wednesday ideas.

NPR’s Jon Hamilton sums it up like this:

“Multitasking causes a kind of brownout in the brain. Meyer says all the lights go dim because there just isn’t enough power to go around.”

Yikes!

I don’t like hearing this.  Even if I kind of knew it was true. 

I like multitasking.  I like to consider myself a multitasking master.    I take pride in the fact that I can write this post while listening to music, brewing my coffee, getting my kids ready for school, eating breakfast, checking my email, reviewing today’s news, running the laundry, and even saying a quick prayer here and there. . . just like many of you. 

I don’t think I could get through the day without multitasking.  It’s necessary.  It makes me feel powerful.  Useful.  Creative.  Smart.  Efficient. 

Right? 

Maybe. . . not so much.   Science shows it isn’t really possible to focus our brains on mutliple things at once and do them all well. 

Especially when a ball drops, and everything comes tumbling down.  

Last week I had a few of those moments.  I was trying to keep multiple family demands, work assignments, and volunteer commitments afloat.  I should have let something go or asked for help so I could focus on the most important ones.  But instead, my pride took over, and balls started dropping.  It wasn’t a huge avalanche, but I realized things were not fully under my control.  

Kind of like a brownout.  A warning.  If I keep overloading the circuits, a major outage may be imminent. 

 I believe these warnings serve a purpose.  No matter how skillfully I multitask , there are times when I need a little help.  A flicker of the lights to make me slow down, connect, and rely on others.  I ease back into community, where humans rely on one another.  And perhaps I clear a channel for those prayers to be really voiced and heard. 

What about you?    Have you had a brownout lately?  What helps you focus on what matters?