Inspire Me.

Write me something that lifts my soul

Something that takes me past this day

Transporting me to something wonderful

Lift my spirits with your kind word

Smile at me and help me believe

Toward something better than what’s on Earth

Take me further than I’ve ever been

Let me fly farther than I’ve given myself

Make it safe to dream again

Deliver me safely to the place in my head

Where I flourish and thrive

That place tucked back privately in my mind’s eye.

Let me see the places that you have carried me

Not allowing me to fall

Gently persuading me to continue on courageously

Guide me carefully through those tight places

Walk beside me,

Through the sea of changing faces

Guard the fire that consumes my heart

Hold tightly to my hand

And give me the valor to start.

Waiting: Another One from the Archive

I have been reflecting on the stages of being a stay at home mom as my dear friend described her crazy start to the week. I love that some of my writing began while the kids were still three under three. Looking at the chaos that used to make up the day makes some of the four o'clock crazies we've had this week sane.

I call the 4:00-6:00 pm hours The Witching Hour. For some reason, the kids hit their peak at that time. I remember keeping one eye on the kids and one eye on the clock, waiting for their dad to come home and spell me. Sometimes, before her knight shining armor arrived, Mommy had to take time out, although that can be a risky endeavor depending on the day.

On one such day, I wrote this poem. I remember it soooo clearly. It's hard to believe how much has changed, how much is better, how the battles are different, and how much is most definitely easier! I think that's one of the best things about life: most of it, is only a season!

Waiting

I wake every morning to your alarm going off

Your son starts to cry just like a clock.

I wait for the warning you are about to leave for the day.

I wait for your kiss, “I love you” you say.

I wait for a moment to drink some coffee;

While pouring milk, cereal and change the movie.

I wait for naptime, so I can start the laundry,

clean the floors and begin dinner because I know you’ll be hungry.

I wait for you to bring stuff home,

To maintain the yard, build little things.

I wait for you, to come rescue me

From the cleaning, the crying, the same old scene.

You arrive home late, and immediately start something new,

On the computer, because your business is YOU.

You come home just to be gone in your head

While talking about my lonely day,

you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.

You ask, please won’t you wait?

You don’t understand that’s all I have done all day. 

I wait for your promises to get done,

I wait for the bills to be paid and money for fun

I wait on the kids, I wait on you

I wait on the animals, on the yard,

on things you say you’ll build or do.

I wait for you to stop snoring so I can sleep.

I wait for the weekend, to have a chance

to spend some time with you after your hectic week.

All I do is wait, all day long, all week long, just to start it all over again.

Seasons change, kids grow, Mom grows and guess what? We all survive! That snow that we are seeing in April will disappear. When the weather finally gets warm and beautiful, the four o'clock Crazies will be running it off at the park. And in the balmy warmth of the evening, Mom will be taking her break in the garden, I'm sure! My, how we all have grown!

Love Happens Now.

In the middle of doing everyday things, sometimes it feels like we're not moving anywhere. We focus on day to day tasks accomplishing minute details that make things function. Sometimes while facing disappointment, we forget to dream or appreciate the moments at hand. When I first started being a stay at home mom, my success was just getting dinner on the table and making the house look like a tornado hadn't hit. It was based on survival. I wanted my husband to be proud to come home to what he provided for. If the house was a wreck, the babies were crying and mom was in a corner huddled and bobbing the head, I didn't have that done.

As things eased up, my attention focused on other areas. He provided, so I wanted to provide something more. I started gardening. On some levels, it was a disaster as I learned. While I learned, I did find some productive things that worked. When we moved the climate changed due to proximity to the mountains. It was disappointing again. I didn’t get the results I wanted. My passion for gardening didn't disappear; I just had to readjust my strategy for it. It's been a long process and I am still learning. As soon as I think I get one thing figured out and feel at the top of my game, there is another thing that reminds me that I am still on the bottom of the totem pole. Does it discount my previous experience? No, but it does remind me of how far I've come and that I still have the advantage of learning more. What matters the most is that I enjoy it.

A year ago, we started one of the most fabulous years we had in our entire lives. It felt like our wildest dreams were coming true. I was so full of thankfulness and joy. I couldn't believe it was happening to us. I remember sitting at concert thinking, “How much better does it get than this? My husband has a steady job supported by one of the foundations of Bend. His talent in sound technology is being used at a local level instead of just a hobby level. We have our own home again. I had one of the best years of gardening ever. We are thriving!” At that moment, I felt like I was on the top of a mountain. I was an eagle flying in the face of a breeze. A month later, he got laid off.

I was so hurt. I was hurt for four months: the four crucial months that are important to families. You don't fire someone in October. Thanksgiving, Christmas, you know “goodwill toward man” and thankfulness is just around the corner! In the middle of that, we had other things we were a part of. How could I keep my head up in the middle of this when we suffered so much shame on the job front? We paraded that success as a testimony, even.

Even though things collapsed, we still said that there was a plan. There was a purpose and maybe this was a great chance for Wayne to move into something else. He's always expressed the desire to move from landscaping to computers. How much of it is our idealism? How much of it is our own desire to be recognized? With the incredible start to our year, if we didn't continue to make the effort in the hard times all of the promotion and recognition was in vain. It's easy to be happy when things are good. Can you continue to be happy when things are bad?

Thanksgiving and Christmas time are a bad time to start that lesson, especially with a family. I had another friend who also faced it a couple weeks after we did. Together we went through it encouraging each other. When? When is it going to get better? How long can we last? Is it ever going to get better? We asked that through November, December and when the New Year hit, it was hard to approach it with any joy or effort. On top of all of that, we spent two months battling illnesses and going through birthdays and family events.

It would have been easy to promise my kids a better holiday and birthday season, but the most important part was being there. It was enjoying it. The last time my we went through unemployment we didn’t enjoy it as much as we did this time. We all made it through those months and the things to do are still stacking up. Wayne DID get that new start with a job in computers. I’ve made promises to be a better friend, a better mother, a better person as soon as I get through these next couple of weeks. I am really glad that my husband is employed again, but I realized how much I enjoyed having his company and miss it now.


While going through the tidal wave of changes, I realized that love happens NOW. It’s not a rain check, it’s not a when things get better. It’s going through things with each other and supporting each other that make the experience worthwhile. If we wait until things get better to love, then we haven’t learned what we were supposed to. It’s easy to love during the successful times and the highs of life. It takes effort to reach out and love during the harder times. Everyone has their own monotony. We get used to what it takes to survive the days and do what it takes. But how many people survive on promises? What do we get to live for today?

A Bedtime Story for Today.

Once upon a time, there was this young price who rode up on a white stallion and encountered a maiden in distress. They stopped, smelled the roses and enjoyed the beauty of the forest, then made their way back to the city where their fame and wealth would precede them. They lived happily ever after.

Let's start over, many centuries later:

Once there was this gal who had a job since she got out of high school. She worked every day from eight to five and collected her paycheck. She had all sorts of friends who surrounded her. They all went out on Thursday nights, Friday nights and did a bonfire on Saturday night. On Sunday, she went to church, then she started her week all over again.

This fair maiden soon realized something was missing from her routine. So she searched out the young prince. She found toads, she found lizards and she found snakes. She worked some more and kept to her routine. Life happened and as she looked around she wondered what this fairy tale was all about. She decided to take the advice of others and not be so picky, but she wasn't too thrilled. Sometimes it didn't feel like her. She worked and she worked some more. She enjoyed it and it felt good. Life happened and somewhere along the line, the fairy tale turned into something so generic that she couldn't believe it was happening to her.

Picking up her courage and vowing off Disney, she continued. She worked some more and did as much as she could to continue. Slowly but surely, instead of being a princess, she became one of them: a statistic, just someone, that girl. The family and friends that surrounded the princess sustained her and even though she felt that she couldn't do it, she knew their faith in her would keep her moving forward.

She worked and worked some more. Then she had a moment that changed her whole entire world. And as she looked into the eyes of her very own princess she vowed that it would never be the same. As they grew together, they found a rhythm to life. It wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, but it was okay.

As the older princess continued to care for the young one, she noticed a certain fair young man who had princely features. No matter what route in the market she chose, the young prince appeared. After many attempts of courtship, the fair young maiden gave in. She was intrigued, but worried about the fair young prince's need to enjoy his youth. A week later, full of purpose, he swept her off her feet. They decided to join their lives together and go forward from there. So the two princesses, young and old, and the fair prince became a family. They kept their normal day to day schedule and as the princess continued she felt like she was outliving the statistic. Life was happening and it was good.

They continued to grow their family and increase their kingdom. Sometimes they won, sometimes they lost. Although things weren't always perfect, the first princess and the fair prince still had their love for each other. Castles and jobs and things fade away, but the two stayed the same. Every night they curled up in each others arms with dreams full of the promises of tomorrow together. They are still dreaming and still living...

Turn the Lights On

Sometimes no matter how long you have been doing something, you can have a moment that makes you doubt your capabilities. When my daughter woke up with a raging fever this morning, seven years of experience leaped out the window and left me in a puddle of questions. As I sat there holding my precious baby that has grown so much, I was taken back to the first time I held each of my children. I remember the wonder and awe that I gazed upon them with. I remember the unshakable feeling of wondering if I could possibly take care of this precious little bundle as well as I am supposed to. How was this big kid trusted with the care of something so reliant, so fragile and so precious?

In my "formative years" i.e. early twenties, I worked in a medical office. I remember panicked moms calling in for different symptoms, childhood illnesses, wanting immediate attention. I knew the generic response and the protocol for these situations. Because I also worked in medical records, I also remember the usual outcome of most of the diagnosis and treatments. I always said I didn't want to be that paranoid parent. Sometimes it seems like that experience is so far removed that I forget the basics.

The middle of the night often brings out desperation and feelings of being alone. It amplifies things that are ordinarily not scary during the middle of the day for children and adults alike. Sitting with a child feverish, shaking with cold and feeling so utterly inept to relieve their discomfort can be magnified by 100x in the wee hours of the morning. It's like the darkness increases the fear of what you cannot see. As I swept her hair off of her sweaty forehead, I had to go back to the facts and quit worrying about the things I couldn't see. It didn't stop me from questioning my aptitude as a parent, but as I filed through the facts in my head, whatever it was that was consuming my child in the darkness didn't feel as threatening.

While sitting there, I found it ironic that I was comforting, commanding some sort of order in the circumstance, while still feeling inept. There are some things that are just ingrained in us. Instincts. I have always been amazed at the motherly instinct, the knowing of things that were otherwise unpracticed. I was not a babysitter. I hated babysitting. I didn't have any previous experience. When I was pregnant with my first, I would waver between courage and wondering if I would do okay. Recently, while looking at job opportunities, I was convinced that no one else could do my job of mom as well as I do. One night of illness took me back to wondering about my certifications even though all of my instincts kicked in. 

I know it is not the first time that this will happen in the course of being mom. Every stage and every year is different. But I do know that the compass of my heart will continue to point me back to what I know and that incredible knowing that was instilled deep inside when I became Mom: Instinct. It's easy to get carried away with what if. When the lights turn on, everything looks normal again. Sometimes we just have to take a breath, remember the facts and not let the unknown cause undue worry.

Call Me Girl

When I was a little girl, I didn't want to be called Tori for whatever reason. I wanted to be called girl. You can ask my mom how long that lasted. My kids, fortunately, haven't gone through that stage yet. I think it is normal to look around and wish to have some of the qualities we see in other people, if not be called a different name.

I have wished many times I could be the total opposite of myself. I have friends who are crafty: in the arts and craft sort of way, not scheming. I have others who are just bouncy no matter what they post: they make everything look good. Then there others who are amazing at connecting with others and doing thoughtful things. They all inspire me and sometimes make me feel that little twinge of guilt for not spending more time on tasks like those. 

One of the things that come with being a mom is repetition. I feel like in the five years I have been a stay at home mom, I have done and said the same things over and over again. I am constantly looking one step ahead and directing traffic. I keep an eye on what is going on around us and what everyone is doing. I thought this was unique to my job. 

It hasn't been until the last year or so that I realized I have been doing that for a lot longer than five years. In fact, my oldest daughter reminds me that it is quite possible I was born doing it. The other day I was searching for a kitchen utensil, wondering where on earth we would have put it other than the normal drawer it resides in. When I found it in another drawer, it made sense, but it wasn't where it should have been. My husband told me afterwards that our oldest had been helping with the dishes. Memories came flooding back of me telling my mom the right way to fold socks or, even better, folding all the towels the same way and putting them in closet color coded. My mom said I was nine years old. She asked me where I had learned it, because no one she knew did that. It was just something I had come up with. 

While contemplating myself as a whole, I sometimes feel like I come up lacking in some areas. Compassion, the warm fuzzy things and being more relational are just a few. Sometimes I feel like I am constantly bossy, planning ahead, moving with force through tasks. I always wonder why I am not a better care taker or one who enjoys sending cards or making a phone call to say hi. I always feel functional instead of frilly. I often fight with who I am and wonder if there is any way that I could be less bossy or less involved in everything that goes on around me. It drives me crazy. I get tired of constantly butting in and making things happen.

Two years ago, I volunteered my services to start coordinating conferences for church. It felt weird, kind of foreign. I distinctly remember how I felt walking in to a group of people that were older than me to present my idea and give them the responsibility of carrying it out. I felt like a snot nosed little brat when I walked in to a group of people that I respected and loved trying to direct traffic. I didn’t realize the overall effect it was going to have in my life. 

Two years later, I feel like the work I’ve invested has been one of the most fulfilling and greatest things I have done using the qualities I sometimes felt were domineering. I can’t explain how amazing it is to see something on paper for four to six months, then watch it carried out to the fullest of intentions. After having four conferences go pretty well, I feel like I have reached a point where I can relax and appreciate the time invested. I build structure and strategy then incorporate others to put it into action. 

Those traits that I thought were overbearing and annoying were used in their full potential for something good. Everyone needs someone or something to evaluate their plumb-line of normal. I am fortunate to have not only a really great mom, but she is also a counselor who finds joy in telling many different types of people they are normal. In return, I get to tell other task oriented function lovers that they are normal as well. Thankfully, when bossiness, planning ahead and moving with force through tasks are used in a different manner, they can be positive as well.

There are days when I look around at the people in my life that make things go and feel so fortunate to have such an amazing group of family and friends. When my strengths seem obnoxious, I can look at what we all do together and relax. Their strengths help balance mine in a way that makes it all seem more productive and planned. 

We were made to be ourselves. It’s a beautiful thing when it develops into a purpose and a plan, utilizing those qualities to their full potential. It brings peace to the inner person who wants to be someone else and allows us to appreciate the qualities in others that help make it work. We weren’t made to complete the picture, just to contribute to a portion of the whole picture.

Better Late Than Never

Happy Belated New Year, everyone. I have sat down many times to write some type of meaningful, encouraging message. Everything I came up with has sounded like a devotional, a Dear Abby column or some kind of pledge that would be chanted during a Women Are Mighty Xena Warrior Princesses meeting. I have been scraping bottom for an original thought for two weeks now.

I really love reading my friends' blogs. People around me posted all this brilliant stuff and I began to question my own personal skill. I'm really not an original creative crafter, a masterpiece chef, a professional photographer, a motivational speaker or even a revolutionary decorator. I am comfortable, practical and totally not ashamed to try someone else's idea. Sometimes my blunt ramblings don't feel as witty or even as substantial as I hope they are.

In between blankly staring at the Blogger screen and writing up other projects, I have had other minor distractions besides writer's block, inferiority and figuring out if I am, indeed, a writer. I spilled my coffee on the carpet my husband so thoughtfully cleaned. My computer shut down and refused to cooperate by turning on. Going on strike, I think my laptop thought it found it's permanent resting place. Little did Acer know that it could be totally dismantled and brought back from computer Bermuda.

It was with great relief that while chatting with a very dear friend the other night, I remembered why I started my blog. For a couple of different reasons, my thirtieth birthday just wasn't what I thought would be like. I wasn't sure if that was a personal thing or related to circumstances. After review, I really feel it was a point of personal growth.That's why I named the blog A Week After Thirty. It was my place that I could just release myself. It was my productive way of unwinding all of the complicated thoughts and misconceptions I had about this new decade in my life. It was a place to mark growth and remember the funny things that make my day.

As revelers were counting down til the midnight hour that marks the New Year, I was also counting down. I was remembering the New Years' past. I was counting down to the end of a momentous year. I was counting down the minutes until I knew things would feel as though they really did "start over". At any birthday or New Year, I think it is totally normal to look at oneself and expect ourselves to be further than where we are. I remember a couple very wonderful times that I actually felt as though I had succeeded as those minutes were marked. Both were based upon arrival at goals and measured by what most people consider success: a home, a family, bills paid off, money in savings, a new business or job.

However, after discussing this with my friend, I realized that my heart has shifted in recognizing success. A person's success cannot be measured by judging oneself by the performance of other people or their acquisition of things. It comes from being your own individual. It comes by looking at your next year as a blank canvass to be painted with your experience. It comes by appreciating the simple things that have been placed before you and finding joy in what you have instead of what you don't. It comes from recognizing mistakes and learning enough from them to change your course of action. Not everyone's journey through life is the same.

Sharing that journey is one of the most important parts. It encourages others to hope and to succeed. So thank you, for reading, commenting and supporting me as I write about mine here! I hope that it brings an element of normal to your thoughts, to your days and to your experiences. May the coffee stay in the cup, the computer remain functioning, and well, the princess thing... yeah, do with it what you will.