Before You Spark Your Pinterest…

I had a random collection of craft supplies that have been sitting in a closet neglected because I really didn’t know what to do with them. First, I purchased a really cool desk to hide all of  my supplies in. Then I joined Pinterest. The most frequent thing I heard about Pinterest before signing up was that it was addictive. You will spend hours pinning and pinning and pinning some more. Although this was true, I felt there were some other things that I thought my friends should have told me before I went charging in. Especially since I am a rookie who likes to say I want to craft, but hadn’t really dove into it yet. These are some important things that I have learned in my first couple of weeks:

1.        Seeing all of the wonderful things your friends have the capability to make, you will bust out all of your forgotten supplies and rush headlong into tutorials to catch up. This will sometimes be to your detriment when you come out on the other side of the project looking like a boob. (See number two. )

2.       It’s spelled croCHet. Before you go spouting your new-found love for the craft, take the t out or they will forever titter about “crotcheting” and find new definitions for it, surmising what you are really doing behind that status update. On the lighter side, I sure enjoyed the joke on myself when I figured out that in my blurred “I stayed up all night to figure this crazy thing out” state, I, a one-time spelling bee champ, had spelled it wrong. 

3.       The no sew t-shirt scarf: there’s more thought that goes into that thing than you realize. It really stinks when you use old t-shirts. Literally. Don’t raid your closet, your husband’s closet or the rag bag for this project, friends. It’s like being caught in a headlock back in high school. That yoga shirt that you used faithfully every day that finally gave out in the pits isn’t a good fit for this one. Save it for a rug. Hit up the clearance rack at Target or Old Navy.  I ended up ditching mine because no matter how many times I did it, it still looked like a ripped up t-shirt. DOH! 

4.       If you are on a limited diet, you will hate everyone around you as they pin recipes that look sinfully delicious and make your stomach gripe about the currently limited situation. I suggest waiting to join until like March, when you are no longer as strict about your New Year’s Resolution to lose weight. 

5.       It will make you feel like a wasteful soul for cleaning out your garage and your closets. My immediate thought was of all the crazy stuff I had already taken to Goodwill or put in the recycling. It is pretty cool to see what people come up with. But we’re not seeing the rest of their house or recognizing them from starring on an episode of Hoarders from one picture or blog post.

Although some of these lessons should just be common knowledge without saying, there is an entertaining factor to sharing my thoughts and experiences as I start creating things again. Unlike the mass of reposted uplifting statuses of Facebook users, this site is an inspirational dream come true. No longer skimming through a muck of glorified spam, incessant chatter or overwhelming agendas, creativity is encouraged, nurtured and fed in one spot. Less words, more pictures. It really is fantastic. Happy Pinning!

The Tricks On Me

In a country plagued with an obesity epidemic, a magical holiday comes in October. We teach our children the American principle of entitlement, going door to door demanding candy from people we do not know. What begins as something cute and fun starts the seed of something that soon grows into an uncontrollable monster that rules us. Gobs of candy go into pillowcases, bags and buckets. More than any one person should consume, we feed the greed. They flock to other people’s neighborhoods dense with porch lights on and indulgent people who celebrate. Even churches have tried to monopolize on people’s gluttony to get them through the door. Schools try to dumb down the Halloween portion by calling it a Harvest party, still allowing children to wear costumes. 

As a kid growing up in a religious household, we were always sent to the library during Halloween parties or our mom came and took us out of school to do something else. Although our perspective has changed in many areas, I still have a hard time allowing my kids to participate in Halloween events at school. I do feel like it does have some spiritual connotations to it that I firmly do not support, but it is the principle of excess that makes me cringe. I know I struggle enough with an open bag of candy in my cupboards, I don’t know what I would do with the bounty of three adorable trick or treaters. 

I am all for celebrating the harvest and our family does take part in some of the Fall Festival activities.  I love fall, it is one of my favorite seasons. The holiday is great for getting families out together, having fun. Family trips to the Pumpkin Patch are memorable and exciting. This year, my son melted our silent resolve when he rolled a pumpkin up and gave us a pitiful face while asking if we could bring it home. As we drove home, the kids were listing off all of the different uses for the pumpkin. My husband spent three hours carving Mater into the pumpkin. The next night, they were eager to see it lit on the patio table and admire dad’s artwork. The girls thought that the pumpkin seeds were the best treat ever. The memories and the family time are priceless. 

One day isn’t enough to create an attitude of entitlement, but is it indicative of what we are teaching our children during the rest of the year? I know I am guilty of it myself. I rationalize deserving a treat or an item based on my performance of everyday tasks while forgetting that the ultimate payoff is the fact that we have a roof over our heads and food on the table. Our bills are paid. We have luxuries like smart phones, internet, computers, and television. Are we in a perpetual state of overlooking the bounty in front of us and knocking on doors looking for more? 

Merchandisers have contributed to this state, but overall, it is us, the consumer who have ignored Thanksgiving and focused primarily on over spending and overindulging during Halloween and a short month later, Christmas. Halloween may be on the forefront, but for our family, Thanksgiving is coming early. It is starting with a budget and a new attitude towards the things we take for granted.

Today Creates Tomorrow’s Memories

I think sometimes we forget the power of today. In the overall picture, circumstances will fade away, leaving us with the highlights of our lives to remember. We dream and scheme over our tomorrows more than we often focus on our today. During writing class, I was visited by a picture in my head. Though it was simple enough, the unspoken words stirred many emotions. I began to recognize all of the beautiful wonderful pieces of my life that I sometimes forget to be thankful for. And because of the importance of those many small things, I want to share the story with you. 

Reflections

She sat at a table all alone slowly sipping her coffee while gazing out the picture window. The waitress carrying the coffee carafe hesitated to bother the lady when she saw the dreamy expression on the elderly woman’s face. Clearly, she was in another place. 

The lady dressed in her daytime best was lost to memories of her past. In a thankful state of retrospect, she realized the value of her experience. It looked repeatedly as though she had loved and lost. Had she known life would safely deposit her out on top, she may have done a few things different. 

While it may not have resembled the perfect performance, it most definitely did not constitute the worst.  She’d been married previously, but went on to find out what true love was. She had put her life on hold and sacrificed for her children, to have them scatter across the states. Fifty-five years ago, she chose to try again and laid her heart completely in the hands of a man that now lay in the ground. 

Perhaps she would have shown more patience. Maybe she wouldn’t have chosen that fight. Maybe she would have shown her love through the little things that she never made time for. Yes, she had been a good wife and mother. However, if she were to go back and do it again, this time she would have focused on being more extravagant with her love instead of fixed on showing it through her tasks. 

Regardless, as her grown offspring produced children of their own, they recognized the amount of effort she had put forth. They began to thank her for all of the things they took for granted. She now remembers dearly how her late husband had told her everyday how much he loved and appreciated her. The little things that used to irritate her are long forgotten. Memories highlight all of the precious things he did to remind her of how special their love was. 

And though she sits contemplatively alone in the end, she takes great joy in the fact that she still has these memories to carry her on through the rest of her days.

Overanalytical Minds: The Happiness Killer

Of all the things that I fight myself over, I battle my mind the worst. It plays like broken record sometimes, mocking me while I think about other things. While scanning my own thought processes, I often look at Wayne and wonder if he ever battles any of the insecurities that I face in my mind. He always seems so calm cool, and collected. In fact, Wayne’s laid back approach to things has inspired me to work even harder lately on mind control. Yes, it’s a good time for a joke, but I really am working on taking control over my own mind, captivating my thoughts. This includes discarding destructive, anxiety-causing thoughts and projecting true, encouraging thoughts while striving to BE that person, that “thing” I see in my mind’s eye. I’m not thoroughly convinced that I am not completely full of crap yet.

There is nothing like some good old fashioned self-sabotage to ruin the celebratory, I made it Birthday high. I was so touched, even pleased and surprised to see who I really believe I am, reflected in the mirror of Facebook comments on my birthday. Then Captain Ugly sailed into my brain in with his evil cohorts: Doubt and Skepticism.  “Is this an online persona? I always wonder in real life what they say when my back is turned. What do they think of me? Am I just one massive joke? I know how I feel about select people, how I would describe them.” And the battle to regain the upper hand in the situation began yet again. 

And of course, leave it to my children to make me double analyze effort, courage, confidence and motive. If I look as foolish with fit throwing, crying over not getting my own way or my ostentatious behavior as I’ve seen my children’s behavior displayed last week, I have a massive session of apology coming. What’s worse, I probably have several personal catalogs of instances I remember well enough to warrant and elicit those apologies. This always makes me ask the question “How many times do I have to wound myself for something that I have not only survived but also been given grace for?”

The first week of school was a rough and rather exhausting start for everyone. I have put a lot of effort into establishing a new, more interactive family routine. This includes more time management for my tasks as well as trying to structure our time as a family around homework and household tasks. I had two very tired little girls yelling, crying and screaming at me all week. It started from the time they got off the bus until after bedtime ranging in such dramatic insults as telling me that I am ruining their lives, they hate me, etc. They are only seven and five, how can they feel this way already?  I know that they are emotional, tired little critters and there is not a whole lot of truth to it. Not to mention, I did see several other similar statements from other Mothers on Facebook, but in the heat of the moment getting a “real job” besides being mom never sounded better. Their criticism also started my mind rolling… unnecessarily. 

In addition to that, I have also received a series of communication regarding Tristen’s behavior at school. I really appreciate the teacher being so informative and active on this. She is most definitely an educator. She has an education IN educating, which is more than we can say for most parents. <Insert joke about IQ tests before parenting here.> Thing is, I’m feeling slightly embarrassed and somewhat shamed by this. I know that my child’s defiance and her lack of recognition of authority can be a bit of an issue, especially if she is gauging the strength of the leader.

 I’ve been prepping for this for a while and in spite of my effort, it just doesn’t seem like her behavior has gotten any better with consistency. Now I have someone else trying some of the many things I’ve tried, confident of their soon success. To be frank, I was a little upset by inference that it may make the ultimate difference, but let ‘er rattle. I prayed that she was right. 

Again, before I explain my thoughts on the coming situation, let me reiterate that I LOVE the effort that Tristen’s teacher has made. I was really thrilled she was going to be Tristen’s teacher because Tristen already adores her. Anthem was in her Kindergarten class and I am really pleased with her performance as a teacher. I also felt like she has the capacity to understand Tristen on a level that sometimes, maybe I miss as a parent. This is for the purpose of explaining my thought process not about being frustrated by the teacher’s communication or success in trying things that we’ve already attempted.

That being said, the second week into classes I received a message from Tristen’s teacher. In light of a situation where Tristen showed disregard for school rules, authority of other adults in the school and listening the first time she is asked to do things, she decided to start a behavior chart for Tristen with lots of positive affirmation. She said that she knows Tristen wants to be good, she also said that Tristen really wants attention.

I had several different first thoughts all at once and while I saw the truth in what she was saying, I have to say my attitude of gratitude was lacking in some of them.  Regardless, I am going to share them because I feel it is totally relevant to my point on the value of controlling ones’ thoughts. 

My thoughts on this were:

1.       Yep, tried the chart thing once myself. Tristen opted out of it in favor of instant gratification by doing what SHE wanted. Good luck with that.

2.       Tristen- attention? More? Really? She gets loads of attention. Not only at home (both positive and negative) but also just about ANY place we go. She’s the QUEEN of attention.

3.       That’s a great idea. Maybe she’ll do it better for you. Please realize I DO try.

4.       Holy crap! This is only the second week of Kindergarten and I’ve talked to the teacher almost every other day and then some. 

After filtering through those thoughts, I recognized my insecurity in my own parenting based on Tristen’s performance. Just because my mind is belittling my parenting doesn’t mean that the teacher is. It’s teamwork. It’s about being consistent as parents and creating an education team. I get it. When I went to reply to the message, I decided to quit making sure I mentioned what we have previously attempted to help mold our child. They don’t want justification for your method of parenting.  They have degrees in dealing with and teaching twenty fresh creative individuals. All they need is support. I have seen specific examples of improvement with Tristen, which I am quick to praise both student and teacher for. 

Of course, the behavior issues came on the tail end of a week of hearing what a horrible mom I am from that same child, so it was only natural for my brain to spin off on a routine evaluation on my performance as a parent. I was angry and a little resentful, because if changing our routine to squeeze more of myself out and make them and our time together more meaningful and productive makes me a bad parent, then I am most definitely guilty. The list of things I used to do and used to enjoy gets longer and longer every year. The rate of replacing them sometimes feels a bit slow, moreso through these types of experiences. 

It is weeks like that which makes me wonder how and when this having kids thing proves as worthwhile, awesome and as fulfilling as people say it is. Sometimes it looks more to me like no career, being broke and always hoping for a better day tomorrow. It’s called trying your hardest to perform at your best to be yelled, screamed and cried at. Being told that your effort and performance suck. It’s the extra twenty pounds that never comes off, just jiggles as you go about your day. It’s turning around to admire your progress to find it completely undone. All the while, we hold out for three little words, a hug, some love or some kind of proof from the fickle little creatures that you are doing a good job. Most of the time when that happens it erases all those moments that made you think all those crazy thoughts, but my mind was already spinning.

This led me to wonder if my substandard performance is due to my multi-tasking. Sometimes, I feel like the only person in the world who doesn’t get to pay attention to just one thing because I have too many other responsibilities. I always think that if I could just focus on ONE, I might master it and not always feel like I am competing for it and come up lacking. Drums, singing, writing, event planning, marketing, parenting, housekeeping, maintaining myself so that I look good enough doing all of those things. I mean, really, while we are on the intuitive overthinking topic, why not ask why some people have to put out so much less effort to be engaging and I have to work so hard to earn people’s love? Why don’t I have a magnetic personality that isn’t like when you stick the wrong ends of magnets together? 

I do laugh at the irony of writing a blog post about figuring it out only to have those very words challenged the next week. Most of these circumstances wouldn’t have felt as defeating if there didn’t seem to be a constant theme of “Are you really doing as good of a job as you think you are?” It’s most definitely my fault for writing a blog post that semi-stated that I was. That’s usually when things tend to crumble right before your very eyes. 

Shame and disgrace are ugly bedfellows. There is nothing like those two to keep a good person from their destiny, from having hope, and from sharing encouragement with other people. When I look around me, I never seem to see anyone else’s struggles with those two. I stay in my self-absorbed mindset, wondering why I think so much more than I need to while tuning out everyone else’s status updates, posts or conversations about it. While I am replaying the reel of my mistakes in my head for the millionth viewing, it seems even more torturous that some people can just shrug their shoulders and move on like things never existed.  My insecurity then takes root, weighing down my heart and becomes worry.

This is when I usually realize I might be over reacting a bit. Maybe I actually do perform all of my tasks well or do have those exceptional qualities if other people are able to see them and comment on them. That would indicate that it is my over analytical mind that is killing the heart over it. I do feel that a healthy dose of self-doubt does encourage me to try harder and do better. It keeps me from becoming overly confident and proclaiming myself as a pretentious expert in many areas. The downside is that I fret about it endlessly and disqualify myself in areas that I am more than capable of handling. That is self-destructive. 

It’s time to remember that last year, I decided I wasn’t going to compare myself, skewer myself or hide the truth from myself anymore. I made up my mind not to care about what other people may be thinking; I was going to be free to be and love myself. Feeling comfortable in my skin was what was making me happy. I felt like I was starting to truly recognize who I am and fulfill my destiny. It was part of what made thirty feel like such a successful year. I don’t think that our minds were made to sabotage our productivity. Ultimately, this leaves us with the responsibility to use it wisely.

A Week Before 31

It’s almost been a year since my first leap into the blogosphere. It began with questions such as “Who am I besides Mom and Wife?” and has developed into “I can write.” In the middle of wrestling with everyday life, I have carved time out of the routine of homemaker to do so. It started as random creative thoughts that would creep into my mind while I was performing routine tasks. Almost a year later, it has become something that I am making time for, because I enjoy it so much. 

My blog was started as my place to figure out who I was going to be since my family was growing up and needing me less.  Out of my desire for more, it became a place for other people to come and feel normal. I used the uncensored thoughts I wanted to post on Facebook or the comical happenings around our home for inspiration. I didn’t realize the momentum that would accompany it. Some of our situations and my frustration or sarcastic thoughts dealing with other aspects of our life have been turned into the beginning of a book.  My experiences as a motivated artistic, sometimes repressed, individual who is also a mother and wife, have formed my determination to continue writing creatively and encouraging the people around me to help figure out who they are as well.

I’ve realized that, after too long trying to imitate other people’s version of what it’s supposed to look like, it’s okay to be me. If anything, they laugh at my witty diatribes of life. When we look at people, most of the time, we get the censored version: the politically correct, cleaned up example of being a husband or wife, a parent, being a person that everyone wants to see. But when things start falling apart, there is seldom a reference guide. Uncorking some of those thoughts, emotions and drawing from personal experience has been a cathartic experience.

Part of writing well is reading things that inspire you. I have been taking this most seriously and hope to produce many more inspired thought processes. I am also focusing on starting to build a portfolio for my writing this year. I promise to tell the truth, to be myself and to keep up with my blog.  

To my followers, my friends and my family, I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you so much. This last year has been rich with experience, productivity and relationships that have made it by far one of the best and maybe even one of the most fulfilling ones I remember. Thank you for encouraging, inspiring and laughing with me.

The Long Road Home

Summer is coming to a close. We waited so long for the warmer weather to get here and it seems it didn’t stay very long. During writing group today, we had a prompt that took me back through many summers of my life. I thought that on the First of September, it would be a nice to take a trip in our minds to the back of Prineville Reservoir.

 The Long Road Home

As the truck sped along the back roads at a perilous rate, the tension of the city melted away. The smell of hay began to blow through the windows. The sun beat down on the road ahead, making s’s in the distance. 

As she passed the last farmhouse, she saw the Alfalfa store come into sight. Slowing her speed, she sighed, eager to be at the reservoir already. Hesitant to spend too much time enjoying the view, she bristled at the sight of the forty five mile an hour sign.

Just as she slowed past the store, she was able to pick up her previous pace. It didn’t stop her from gazing out at the wheel lines, sprinkling the next crop. With the whir of the water being pushed through the massive machinery, it took her to that place she wasn't prepared to go. 

Was it home? Or was it just a series of photographic memories of events in her past? For whatever reason, those large circles made up of metal took her back.  Like a country song playing on a radio, it highlighted different places in her memory, bringing her full circle to where she was now. 

The road up to the Reservoir had taken her further than she realized. Memories fresh in her head, she relaxed, pulling her foot off of the throttle.The drive there was almost more enjoyable than actually arriving.

The One Who Knows It All: An Excerpt from My Book

The words “You’re an idiot” are rarely spoken in conjunction with healthy relationships. But sometimes I think it could be an effective communication tool. If I had a dollar for how many times I looked at someone, their Facebook status or their “mission” and shake my head and think “you’re an idiot”, I would be richer than Donald Trump.  Everyone loves an idiot because idiots make the rest of us feel incredibly smart.

Unfortunately, this isn’t exactly the advice that you necessarily receive accolades for. People don’t want to hear the word “no”, “that’s pry not the greatest idea", or "Perhaps you should think a little more about this."  Instead, people like to listen to those who tell them that they are so smart, deserve more and yes, you need to move on.  I need to find more supporters like this! I’d be so much further in life. 

Being an idiot requires some specific behavior. Usually it includes thumping people over the head as many times as you can with a Bible, or whacking them with truths that only you are privy to. It starts as something that says “I am smarter than them and how the hell can they get away with this?”  It is usually accompanied by several people telling them how incredibly smart and perceptive they are, who point out what you aren’t seeing.

While I would like to condone this activity for my personal uses, I feel like it is a sticky place to be in. You can’t just go around telling people that they are idiots. You can’t tell them that their entitlement issues don't make them qualified for things that they didn’t earn no matter how great their vision is. It’s tricky business telling people that they are idiots. It would really be unfortunate if, when it was all over, we were actually the idiot of which we were speaking.

Judging people’s intentions is what we do, we look for opportunities while reading the news: Facebook updates, People.com, even our local news. We read the news to be a judge. We read things people write to see if they are right or wrong. We test out different groups to see if we will fit. Then we make our decisions based on our judgments. What if there isn’t a line? What if they aren’t what we expected them to be? What if in their crazy way, they are who they were supposed to be? Who’s the idiot, now?