Just have to vent

It's really not venting in the traditional sense because, actually, that which I am "venting" about I really enjoy. I just finished a paper, am about to write another one on a topic I feel, at best, shaky about, and I have a final exam to do by tomorrow which is a day already packed with two soccer games (one I will have to miss) and three yoga classes to teach in addition to the regular daily life of keeping track of a family and feeding them. It is the schoolwork that is new to the mix of life. But I do like it. My husband can never understand it. I like my brain to be working. It makes me feel fresh, vibrant and young. Maybe it brings me back to feelings of being a child when every experience was a learning one. Maybe it just feels good because it is linked to feelings of accomplishment and future. Whatever the reason, just thought I would give myself a break and "vent" about all I have to do before getting back to it. The cool thing is that I am not tired and I don't anticipate being tired after it's all over. I imagine it will just energize me. That has to be a good thing.

xoxo

The best thing about having kids is this - being able to still hug and kiss them even when they are grown up and being able to always talk sweet with them even when they are big.

Our strange ways

We all have strange ways. Would everyone agree? Is there anyone who is completely pleasant and well-adjusted so as not to display any quirks that could bother anyone? Maybe. Our dog. Oliver, is pretty pleasant to have around. I think it's because he can't talk. Is that the answer? Say as little as possible? I don't know. I get uneasy around people who don't talk much. I wonder what's wrong and if they are feeling all right. Oliver doesn't talk and is cute. Not say much and be cute, is that the answer? Not completely. Oliver also feels just a few emotions: love, loyalty, patience, playfulness, protectiveness and the basic physical needs like hunger, thirst, etc. So therein is perhaps the key factor, keep things simple, basic and limited to the most amiable of emotions. I'll try it, starting now, don't talk much, keep feelings simple and take care of my basic needs. Oh, and look cute. Then I will be the most pleasant of people to be around and maybe those around me will follow suite. One can only hope.

Father Brother

p.s.
I have to thank someone for putting this in my head. She has no idea how much she has given to me. Thank you.

The above is from a post in a writing workshop I am a member of. It was written by a writer whose correspondence I have been in touch with and been responding to. He went from thinking he had cancer to trying to quit smoking to getting a GED on the way to going to college. There were other dramatic moments throughout which we shared indirectly through our posts. I rarely responded directly to his entrees. Rather, I would write a poem, several on most days, in response, which shared my insight and feelings. I have to believe he read my posts as diligently as I read his because my vocabulary would show up in his entrees - words like "plan", "warrior" and "listen."

After reading the above tag to his entree called "College" I felt a surge in my heart and tears come to the surface. At the same time I shrugged it off thinking it's probably a lady friend. But something inside gives me hope that it might be me. Somehow my desire to help, dressed in the poems I wrote, may have made a difference in one man's life. He represents the father and brother that I care for yet was too young to help in their time of need. Maybe someday I will have a chance to tell him, "You're Welcome." If, he was talking about me, if.

Real Victory

I am about to disclose, that is, share something in public that is, by some standards, private. Whose standards? I'm not sure. Maybe standards I make up in my head. I don't know. Here it is. Twice in the last two days I have tasted true victory. It has to do with a party. Not the kind in someone's house with lots of people and music. No, this party is different. To the average observer, it's quiet and only involves one person, me.

I have to preface by saying that three days ago I arrived home from a 13 day vacation with my husband and four (out of five) children. We traveled several thousand miles through several states and saw beauties of this earth which can only have been created by God. We spent time with some of His people, ones we knew before and ones we just met. If that wasn't enough, well, brace yourself for this...we got closer to one another. The whole trip was about getting closer, to beauty in all its varieties, beautiful sights, creatures and souls. And we discovered the beauty of being a family together. Our unique personalities and sensibilities blending over long hours in the car. We marinated into each other and decided, in the end, that we are happy tobe stuck with the same last name, in the same living quarters, while on the road and back home.

The first victory after this trip came yesterday evening as I listened to James Taylor while making Chicken Lo Mein for dinner. My mom came into the kitchen intending, I believe, to chat. My son came in a few minutes after looking in cupboards as he often does. For what in particular I never really know, he just does it habitually while I am in the kitchen. I asked him about his plans for the evening. It turns out he will not be home for dinner. My mom is irked by that, always. She made some sort of disapproving laugh, thinking to get me in on the response. It has been a strangely political thing she does, trying to get me on her side against someone. It seems minor and it really is. She is not some lecherous, conniving presence in our home (although my husband would not shirk to say so). I don't even think she realizes what she does. Anyway, I was not going to be on her team. I said something friendly to my son and kept on cooking. My mom sat there for a few more moments, running out of things to say, then went to her room. The feeling of victory grew over a James Taylor song or two. I stayed my ground without getting offended by my mother. She can have her own little snitchiness. I don't have to. I knew how I wanted to feel, and I had the ability to feel it. I wanted to feel love.

Second victory came this morning after I received an email from my church leader. I had sent out a notice yesterday about yoga classes I will be teaching in our area and wanted to invite the ladies from my church. My leader has some words of advice about protocol and propriety. I was at first taken aback, but not too far back. I quickly thanked my leader for the tips. As I drove home from work (where I had read the email), I decided to send another email of apology. Once again, the feeling of victory grew as I sat in the car and outlined what I would say. I decided to tell the ladies that I still love them, which I do. I understood how important propriety is for some people. I knew how I wanted to feel, and I had the ability to feel it.

This is when I felt the party. I didn't feel it yesterday. I felt it today while driving in my car. The party is inside of me. It was an after victory party, in this case, two victories. The first one felt good. But this one feels great. I've realized I'm onto something here. I can have a party inside no matter what is going on outside. It felt like a churning energy source inside that can't be extinguished from without. It is a feeling of being in control, not of others, but of myself. I don't have a name for it. I can't relate it to anything I've learned in a book or in life. I think I am going to let it sit, grow and continue to reveal itself to me for the rest of my life.

I've got a party going on inside and the more someone tries to blow it out, the stronger it gets.

Atonement

I attended a Prenatal Teacher Training (yoga) this past weekend. We learned about deep procession work, among other things. It involves imagining yourself talking to someone you have unresolved issues with in order to work things out and hopefully, feel better. We didn't have all the time in the world so we were encouraged to choose a person that we can handle in just a little bit of time. I chose someone minor in my life to have this therapeutic conversation with - our partners pretended to be this person and just listened with no responses. It was interesting and exhausting. I wanted to just sleep when I got home and didn't want to talk to anyone. My point is this. I don't really have that much baggage. It would seem so because of all that has happened to me in my life. But it has all been other people's stuff dumping on me. On my own, as an individual I have not really messed up my life. I actually feel quite light. It is a good feeling. Additionally, as I went through a mental list of people to have issues with - parents, significant others, etc -I realized that I've pretty much resolved them in my heart. I don't have any really serious issues with anyone. That's a good feeling too. Lastly, I understand a little more why we need the atonement of Jesus Christ. The reason I can be so well, in spite of all the bad stuff that has happened to me is because the Savior suffered not only for my sins but for my suffering as well. I have felt his healing power come into my life when I have suffered at the hands of others. I really am all right and that is a miracle. Through the atonement of Jesus Christ I really am made whole. I love Him.

Am I an impostor?

Sometimes I feel like I am an impostor. I pretend very well to be a wife and mother of five. Back when I was trying to decide whether or not to major in Theater I realized one day that I have been acting all my life - or at least most of my life. I chose my life but really I have not been raised for such a life. What I mean is that I am acting contrary to my conditioning. I didn't like my conditioning so I chose differently. I suppose there is a bit of nobility in that. But sometimes, there are moments, when I feel like I am an impostor. I get these feelings when something reminds me of the dark times in my childhood. I don't want to remember them. But they come up. Right now I am studying substance abuse. Maybe it is not a good idea. When I read about those who are prone to abuse I see that I fit those profiles. I could have been some kind of substance abuser. But I had absolutely no desire. I wanted a better life. I have lived a clean life but there is dirt inside of me that I can't seem to wash off no matter how good my life is. Maybe I should reconsider being a therapist. Maybe I need to do something else, something that won't remind me of my past suffering.

Learning to listen.

Being a parent is the most complex endeavor. It's odd how easily we can come by it, really. There are no qualifications, certifications, levels of education, experience, background checks, applications to fill out or trainings to pass in order to become a parent. Yet, it is the most important job in the universe. Just goes to show, God must be impartial to afford just about anyone the opportunity to have the most important job in His universe. He is an equal opportunity employer.

Here is what I have been thinking about in earnest about parenting. It is so much more about listening than anyone says. Listen with focused interest and get your hand of that child's pulse. Get to know your child's heart. Then pray that for the right words at the right time to touch your child's heart. When you have your child's pulse you can monitor their health and progress.

Each child will need something different. Your job is to understand what that need is and try to fill it. When they are infants it's being able to tell if they are hungry, wet or tired. It starts out simple, thank goodness. Then those choices of needs become more complex and personal to the child. You have to be able to adapt and improvise in order to keep up. Do not be deceived by how big they may get. They will always need something from you until you leave this earth. I have children from ages 7-25. I know my oldest can do his own laundry. What he needs from me is a word or two of counsel now and then, not just any counsel though, the right counsel. Knowing what to say at the right moment takes a great deal of thinking and intuiting on my part. And the moments when I can help are few so I have to get it right on. My 7 year old needs to learn obedience right now. He needs me to say "no" to him quite a bit. But more than that, he needs to know what the "yeses" are so he can get things right and feel good about himself. Then there are the three daughters in between the youngest and the oldest, each with their own set of unique needs.

It is a fun job. I have to say. It keeps me involved with humanity, my own and at large. It keeps me in touch with the workings of a human soul. As I learn each day to listen more carefully and deeply I am finding a wellspring of understanding, even wisdom, in my own soul.
Speaking becomes more meaningful and natural. First, just listen.

What I want to learn to sing...

I used to sing ALOT. I fell out of it, oddly enough, when I started taking guitar lessons in 2006. I had a teacher who played guitar that just mesmerized me and I lost my own voice, in a way. I stopped creating by instinct and began trying to "play" the guitar as written in a book. I stopped taking lessons last fall. The expectations are starting to fall away and I am itching to get back to playing from my heart, not just from my head. As part of that process and in order to bring the fun back into singing and playing, I am going to learn some songs on the guitar like I did when I first started learning the instrument in 7th grade. I am going to make a list of songs starting with the following...

songs I want to learn:

*Say a Little Prayer for You
*You've Got a Friend
*All I Really Need is a Song in My Heart
*When Somebody Loved Me
*Shower the People You Love with Love
*Hold Out

It's time to get started!

Losing yourself to find yourself.

I have been thinking about this principle that I have heard about for a long time. I thought I knew what it meant. But I think I am just beginning to know. I am preparing to enter a new field. I am training to be a substance abuse counselor. I have spoken to two counselors in the field as part of an assignment for the program. These are individuals who know what it is to lose themselves. I know it can't be an unhealthy thing but I realize that I have just begun to scratch the surface.

Yes, I am a mother of five. I teach yoga. I have tried to fill my life with doing good. There is more to go - more growth, more learning, more giving. I am both looking forward to this new experience while also knowing that I have to be wise not to get burned out. It is a new adventure.

What it takes.

"Breakfast will be ready in five minutes!" It is a cheerful voice at 6:45am on a clouded summer morning. It is time for soccer camp, a week long, 3 1/2 hour a day activity to keep small bodies
busy and growing minds from getting slumpy as we near the middle of this wonderful season. The two children for whom the invitation was made have no idea just what it took for to accomplish
that declaration that lasted just seconds.

I woke up a little before five am. I couldn't sleep much to my husbands disappointment. He loves so much sleep that he actually grieves for someone who can't. I finally climbed out of bed and headed to the kitchen where my computer is. I turned in on and began my day. For me, this has become writing. I am part of a writing workshop that requires we write everyday. In order to avoid this taks getting pushed aside I do it first thing after which I comment on a few fellow writer's musing and sometimes even get inspired to write some more. It is a wonder of a process, really. So I wrote and read for an hour. Then I did homework for half an hour before it was time to get dressed and wake up the kids.

The reason I felt cheerful is that I require a certain amount of mental activity to clear my head and help me be in a good mood. Physical activity does the same thing. I'll do that too today.
So, my ideal day is when I have been a happy person for my kids. If it takes some work to get there, I will do it. That is what it takes, so I'll do it.

happy

I have to say, when I read other people's writing, I realize that basically, I am happy. It is not a glamorous life. I am a stay at home mom who does her best to get out some but still remain
basically a stay at home mom. It is what I wanted. I have never had a full time job outside of home. The closest I got was two part time jobs for a month before we had kids. I quit one job
to return to school. I don't have a lot of fancy stuff. I shop at the discount stores and sale racks. We have a modest house that more than serves our needs. We could use a new couch but that will have to wait until our oldest daughter is done with college. I don't cook the fanciest of stuff but I try to make what tastes good with simplicity and as few ingredients as possible. I don't have an amazing garden even though I would love it. I don't have time.

But here is what I DO have! I have five children who appear to be amazing to me. They are just good people, in spite of all my failings, of their parents failings. I have a purpose. I have enough to do outside of the family to keep my needs for growth satisfied. I have a husband who hasn't given up. I have a family and a good reason to live. I am happy. Life is not fancy but it has all the most important elements.

The ability to speak my mind.

It has become clear to me that the silent, quietly suffering woman in the corner of the room works in the movies but not in real life. At least, not for me, in my current life. If I want life to be good, I have to express my needs and even desires. Of course, I can't be tyrannical. If I do my best to have everyone's best interests in mind then chances are good that my needs will be to help other needs be met. My personal needs are my responsibility and they are simple - good health and continued progress - what I usually need help with is taking care of the family. In short, I understand that I need to let my husband know what I expect of him as a father and husband. I hate to say but I'm usually right. So sorry to admit that. But it is true. My desire is the happiness and well-being of my family so, even my personal upkeep is to that end. I take care of myself so I can better take care of others. Once in awhile, I get to have a good time as well - like going on roller coasters with my kids at Knott's Berry Farm! So, anyway, my point is this, it's OK to speak my mind to my husband. It's not unromantic or less magical. It's necessary, smart and will allow us to continue to build our lives together and care for our family. That's a good thing.

Dependable

What is dependable? Am I, dependable? I try, certainly. But it seems that I am often at the mercy of this swirl of emotions, like an unsettled ocean , that can be calm one moment and stormy the next.

But there are small ways to be dependable. Would you like a bowl of cereal? To which my 7 year
old responds excitedly, "Lucky Charms!" How easy he is to please. It took me less than a minute
to assemble the meal and he was happy. I look like an absolute hero. Does he know how many
choices it took me to get to that place where I can pour him a bowl of Lucky Charms at 7am while the rest of the household still sleeps?

There were so many choices. There was a great many "no" answers. Actually, it was the same few questions to which I chose to answer "no" repeatedly until my life became channeled, focused to a point that took me exactly to that moment of "Would you like a bowl of cereal?"

I don't know if that is dependable. I know it's the best I can do and it has taken all I have got to get there, so, I sure hope it's enough.

Too much?

Is it too much to know what I am thinking all the time? Is it too much for me to share what I am thinking all the time? Probably yes, and yes. Thankfully it isn't possible for me to keep this blog up to date with the myriad of weather conditions that pass through my mind. Sometimes, though, I come up with stuff that I just want to share. Hopefully, those will make it to this forum.

Everyday they come

These thoughts are incessant, really, which depending on which set of thoughts can be good or not so good. My dear Auntie Charing is hard of hearing and when she lived with us it seemed that being so is not such a bad thing. That's only because her thoughts which she had for company were a good sort of bunch. Our thoughts are constant companions, are they not? So, choose carefully your friends..........

Work that saves us.

The nature of work can be elusive in our day and place. My daughter wants to earn money to buy
a hand held game system. While I was at work she did various chores on a list I had made for her before I left. By the time I got back home she had earned $10. I am very proud of her! Just a week ago I was fretting over how to keep the kids busy while I taught a yoga class here and there. We had a serious conversation - which was actually me speaking with great emotion - telling them that I need to work so we can have the basic things and they need to help out and avoid idleness. It actually seemed to work. My kids are good. When I catch myself coddling them - wanting to spare them the work - I have to stop myself. That's my mom's approach, but it doesn't have to be mine. Since I stopped seeing work as a punishment we have all been a lot happier. I am blessed to do something I love for work for just a few hours a week and to have such great kids who are learning to embrace the principle of work in their own lives. Work can save us and we ought to be grateful for the opportunity to work.

Do it anyway

I feel a little off today. Trying to figure out why. Also trying to decided if it's important. I really feel like cocooning myself in bed with a book and some food. But I am teaching a yoga class and need to leave the kids. That might be wearing me out - the coming and going. Amanda has a root canal this afternoon after I get back. I would rather take the kids swimming at our neighbor's pool. So, what is really going on is, freedom vs got-to-do's. Some things we have to do anyway, no matter how we feel.

It's my birthday today.

Today is my birthday. How do I feel? I feel pretty good, considering. The good thing is I don't need as much. I remember earlier birthdays feeling like it really needed to be a special day. We had to go somewhere, do something interesting, etc. Tonight we are having a picnic in our backyard. Sandwiches that we make ourselves with all the healthy fixings I like and kettle potato chips, unusual juices, fresh fruit. My #1 daughter is going to make a chocolate cake - out of the box - but I also have fresh strawberrys - great combination.

As I cleaned the patio table and positioned the chair cushions I thought about how my Auntie Charing celebrated her birthday. To her, a birthday was not a day to get, it was a day to give. She is an elderly widow who worked hard to support her family and lives very humbly. She came to this country a few years ago to take care of her aging father. She never owned her own home. She took care of my other Aunt's brain damaged son from an infant till his death as a young adult while his mother came to the United States to raise her other three children. This child was in a vegetative state. Auntie Charing's loving, warm tending to my cousin impressed me and still does. It touches my heart even as I think about it at this moment.

She came to live with us for awhile. She stayed in the same room with my mom. One year, at her birthday, she insisted on taking our whole family out to dinner. On her meager income she treated US on HER birthday. And she was completely and utterly happy doing it. She just beamed as we sat around the table having dinner. It was like magic.

I want to learn that kind of magic - the kind that allows a person to be completely and utterly happy while giving. Today I start by giving to my family on my birthday.

Again, something new.

A few times now, in this forum, I have revealed lessons learned that I had not supposed before. Tonight I learned yet another. My daughter (9yrs old) had a bad tootache. She was screaming ( as an emotional release) crying and even laughing at her predicament - tremendous pain in her mouth which vibrated throughout her whole body and no dentist in office to be consulted. As she sat next to me at dinner, writhing in pain, I had my arm around her, trying to comfort as best I could.

My mother sat next to us. She said in her native tongue something to the effect that when she was a child, if she or any of her siblings were in pain, they were scolded, and she marveled that I would even try to soothe. I had heard her say similar comments before. But tonight, it occurred to me that this explains a great deal about the difficulties in our relationship

I have tried repeatedly to have an affectionate relationship with my mom. It seems when we get "close" we fall apart. I had finally decided that my mom cannot handle my affection. It throws her off. So I have kept a distance while still doing my best to help her along. At times I have felt guilty about this deliberate withdrawal but tonight I have become convinced that it was the appropriate thing to do. Mom really does feel more comfortable at arms length away. More importantly, I do not need to feel guilty. How she is has nothing to do with me.

I was intuitively correct in keeping a distance. I have even come to understand this choice as respect for who she is. I accept. It's all right. We have reached an equilibrium, however less than ideal, it is peaceful. Peaceful is good.

An idea

If my family reads this, and I don't think they do, they would be concerned about the idea I am about to share. I am in a quiet kitchen, my big kids are asleep at 9:13am. I am remembering kids in a distant continent who rise early to help provide for the family. My mother's own stories of selling gleaned sweet potatoes, among a myriad of other stories, swirling in my mind.

My idea is to plan a family activity where we work to earn our meals for the day. I am kind of excited.

Summer

Today is the last day of school for my two elementary age children. For the past few weeks I have been thinking and planning how to organize a household of people through the summer. There are nine people in my house when we are all home. There is my husband, myself, my mom, 25yr old son, 18yr old daughter, 15yr old daughter, 9 yr old daughter, 7yr old son and a 30yr old nephew. We have two dogs and a bird. The bird I have to think the least about.

Out of all these people, only my husband leaves in the morning for a full time job. You can imagine my challenge. Honestly, it would be simpler going to work and having one specific focus. My job is more than full time and all over the place. I need a way to reign it all in. I want order and peace above all. How to accomplish this?

Early this morning I was thinking about this. I have a few ideas. Small daily chores for everyone. I am trying to figure out mealtimes. There are some activities like beach day Wednesdays, library Fridays and possibly movie Mondays. But my concern is keeping the house clean and people productive. Idleness and filthiness are not ingredients for peace and happiness. But how to corral so many different individuals into such an existence without fighting?

I decided that I need a super-structure, a large scale system to channel lives. I prayed for one. The gospel is such a structure -family prayer, church attendance. In my yoga teaching I teach within a super-structure. The students are all different and I have to encourage and guide without force. I certainly can learn to do that at home. My family then, is my yoga class. There are different types of people, I need to modify for some and challenge others. But we all need to function within the super-structure ( such as the yoga poses and philosophy are the super-structure for the yoga class).

In order to be a good yoga teacher I know that I need to keep up with my own practice then share that with my students as I teach them. This is the same in my family. In order to guide them through a productive and purposeful life, I need to live one myself.

Curiosity

It may have killed the cat, curiosity. But I believe it the essential doorway to walk through to get to knowledge. What to be curious about, is maybe the more important question. It is a cousin to intent, curiosity is.

All I can say is it is important to want to know..........

bad language in third grade?!?!

An overheard conversation has revealed that my 9 yr old daughter, just finishing the 4th grade, has had her sweet little ears littered with bad language. According to her and a neighbor friend, 3rd, 4th and 5th graders at their elementary school use profanity. It's no wonder that my daughter has been asking to be homeschooled and even said that the environment is not good for her. I had been hesitating, not sure if I could handle schooling her while taking her older sister back and forth to her classes at her independent study high school. Also, I have a part time job which takes me, currently, out of the house two days a week. I was willing to request a change in schedule in order to homeschool her and still am. However, my daughter changed her mind and now wants to go to 5th grade at the public school. Now I am not so sure if that is what we should do.

On the other hand, I know she will be exposed to it sooner or later. I can't completely shield her. But it does bring to mind the question of what I can do to fortify her. What does the use of bad language do, exactly, to a young mind? What does it do to a child who doesn't use that language to hear it? Their minds are young still. They are impressionable. How does the use of crude language affect their sentiments, spirit and disposition?

I remember how cranky she has been and now I understand. I know why she still wants me to cuddle with her at bedtime. She still sits on my lap and needs time almost everyday to be close to me. I realize now, how important is my influence for good. When the world is harsh, a child needs someone to be tender. When the world is wrong, a child needs someone to be right. When the world is demeaning, a child needs someone to remind him or her that he or she is divine. When the world is base, a child needs someone to treat him or her as a child of God.

What would I miss?

If one of my children died, what would I miss? A dear friend's son died yesterday while on
an outdoor outing. They believe he was caught under a waterfall current and drowned. He was in his late 20's. I visited with my friend just for a few moments right after we heard. I know she
was holding it together for our sake, those of us who came to be of comfort. She said she didn't know how she felt. Those kind of events take our breath away and give it back a little at a time over an unspecified period of time.

I wondered what I would miss if one of my children were to pass before me. So much of our life together is a physical experience. As a mother, the moment a child isconceived she thinks about the developing fetus and ideally makes choices to ensure proper growth. Once the child is born she feeds, cleans and clothes her child. When they are grown we concern ourselves about how he or she will provide for themselves, where he or she will live, etc. Always we are involved with the physical care of our child.

The emotional and spiritual concerns tag along behind. When a child scrapes a knee we care for the scrape and offer comfort on the side. It's possible that for some it's the other way around. And perhaps as they grow older it becomes more so as we expect them to be more independent. So, the question, is what would I miss most? The first thought that came to my mind is being able to hold my child close, that I would miss the most, his or her physical contact.

Behind that thought is that I would miss feeling the spirit of that child as I hold him or her close. Within an embrace is a recollection of a lifetime in a few moments. When I hold a child to say goodbye in the morning or hello at the end of the day I am reminiscing their lifetime in a moment. I hold close the newborn, infant, child, adolescent and young adult at the same time. Everything that child has ever been to me comes back in a rush of love and connection. That I would miss the most.

Are we all alike?

Two moments this week make me wonder how alike we are. First, last Sunday, the sweetest
mom in our church taught the women. She said that, with 8 kids, there were moments when she got angry and that by following the Spirit she was able to make better choices as a mother. I never would have guessed that she got angry. She truly is the sweetest mom I have known ever. I felt a shudder of relief and wondered at the idea that we were alike in some way.

The second moment occurred today during the bridal shower of a great friend. Her friends quizzed her fiance on information about their relationship and the game was to see if the bride to be would answer the question in like fashion as her fiance. One of the questions was, "What about your bride to be irritates you?" It turns out they disagree on how to wash the dishes. I thought our household was the only one in which that could be such a big deal at times. I wish I would have known this. It would have spared me the moments of thinking our marriage was doomed because I like to wash the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher and my husband thinks this a waste of time and energy.

Mothering and marriage. Underneath the different backgrounds, cultures, demographics, etc. are we really all very much alike? If so, why did I think otherwise? I have to think about this because it could change my outlook on my life radically........

My right hip

I went to the gym with my daughter this afternoon. We did 20 min on the elliptical, stretched then took showers. I took her shopping for Sunday clothes. After a few minutes in the store I could barely walk. My right hip felt stiff and painful. I could hardly get in and out of the car and I felt exhausted. We finished out shopping. In the kitchen I hobbled along getting something to eat while my mom, recovering from a right hip replacement and broken right femur, hobbled along too. It was funny.

Almost immediately after the pain started I noted that mom and I were afflicted in the same hip. I kind of understood how it must have felt to walk with pain. I realized how other women must feel who walk with pain. I decided to let the experience imbue me with empathy from that moment on. I questioned my attitude towards those with bodily afflictions. Do I blame them for not taking care of their bodies better? Maybe a little. But I am going to work on not doing that anymore. Pain in my right hip is a humbling experience and I hope it gets better soon.

Discovery

In theory, I have made a discovery worth noting. Moms, if you would like some quiet time while everyone is home and if you have a primary grade child who is busy and active then I share this discovery particularly with you.

Yesterday, while doing various household chores as we usually do on a Saturday, my 7 yr old son kept asking to play hide and go seek. It was unusual but we had fun playing games the night before and he seemed more obedient after we spent time together that I said, "Sure, we'll play hide and go seek just as soon as I finish this last task." He waited and even helped me accomplish the chore. Then I counted first while he hid. I found him and then it was my turn to hide. I had to make some sounds to lead him to the bathroom where I was or I might have been there for a long, long time. I counted again, found him, then he counted. And here comes the discovery.

I hid under my big king sized bed. I could see his little feet going from room to room. And as any mother knows children do not really look when they look. That is why we are constantly helping them find missing items because most of the time they do not really know how to search. He walked into our bedroom several times and stood in the middle of the room then walked out thinking he had "looked" in my bedroom.

Meanwhile I was quite comfortable under the bed surrounded by miscellaneous stored items.
It was quiet, cool and restful. I thought of the box of chocolates in my wardrobe a few feet away and wished I had taken them with me when I hid. I also thought about the book I have just begun to read and have been wanting to get back into but haven't found a portion of quiet time to do so. He walked back into our room a few more times until our dog, Oli, gave me away by laying down next to me. Although I was completely hidden, Oli was not and Eduardo decided I must be under there because Oliver follows me everywhere.

While I was under there I thought how I could hide really well next time, bring provisions, and have a few minutes of quiet time to myself while my son "looked" for me. I thought maybe other mothers might appreciate this discovery and I couldn't wait to share it. Hide and Seek, a way to play with your child and get a few moments of quiet time, all in one game! When it's your turn to hide, have provisions ready to take with you, hide somewhere comfortable and of course, know how long to hide without raising suspicion. Have fun!

In response to facebook's "What's on your mind?"

Here is what's on my mind:
Drama of just about any kind, other than what's onstage and thus can be left there knowing full well that after the show the actors put on grubby clothes and walk to their old cars because most of them are poor, anyway, not that drama but the other kind. The kind of drama that drains your energy, keeps you thinking in circles with no resolution nearby, the kind characterized by old people's regrets, middle aged people's anxieties and young people's angst should be left alone. This kind of drama and all of its cousins, aunts and uncles should be left where they lie and fester. Warning: Do not take them in, they are toxic and hazardous to your health. Take it from someone who knows. Just don't do it. Be warned. Be wise. Exercise your natural instinct for self-preservation and do not feel even a twinge of guilt. Be well and maybe others will decide to be well along side of you.

That's what's on my mind..........in case anyone really wants to know.

getting teary

I've been a performer of sorts since I danced as a toddler with a monkey to the music box of it's handler in a park and people threw money at us. It wasn't a profession, just something I must have felt like doing, unprompted. Throughout my life I have gravitated to opportunities to perform; acting, singing, whatever! I even took the opportunity to dance in a ballet at my daughter's recital when they invited the parents to be in a ballet number. Yes, my 30 something body in a leotard, tights, and tutu was not a repulsive idea to me. I was in heaven. One of my things to do before death was to dance with children. I did it and it felt like a dream come true.

Anyway, my point is, my children have grown up watching me do this. So when my 9 year old's school was getting a talent show together she wanted to be a part of it. She tried to get a friend to do a dance number with her but they couldn't agree on a song. She thought of doing a number with her brother (which they do at home to our delight) but thought the other kids would think that was weird. How early they become attuned to social stigmas. Eventually she decided to be part of a large group number with not much to learn but still getting a chance to be in the thing.
She thought the movements were too simple but she went along and, I think, had a great time.

I just got back from the said talent show and have to note that during the finale, when all the kids came out as an older child sang "It's The Climb" by Miley Cyrus, I got teary eyed, inspite of myself. I used to get teary all the time, when the kids were little little and we would watch Disney movies. At any little sentimental idea, I would get teary eyed. I have toughened up a great deal since then and do not consider myself so sentimental anymore. On numerous occasions I had decided that the tendency to be overly emotional about fiction just wasn't reasonable, healthy, realistic or helpful. It just sets one up for disappointment and folly. Life is
not a romantic comedy. But this morning, as all those children starting walking up to the front of the room, the energy of their sheer numbers and youth woke up this tired heart. I started singing along, "It ain't about how fast I get there, it ain't about what's waiting on the other side, it's the climb."

Just this morning, as I brushed my teeth along side my children before taking them to school, I thought how much I preferred their company than to almost any other kind of people. I love how simple life is through their eyes, uncluttered by heartache and disappointment that comes just from living long enough. Seeing all those children, at the very start of their climb, yes, this tired heart stirred and I got teary, barely, just enough to remember.

hello

Hi. It is a rare day that I have all to myself. My mom, who lives with us, was taken out by a friend for an outing. She is not able to get around by herself anymore. My little kids are at school and my big kids are sleeping in. I had a myriad of choices of what to do today. I decided to do that task tha that has been pulling at my sleeves for days, weeks and subconsciously, months.

I cleaned out the linen closets. One is in part of my closet in the bedroom. No problem. A few things got taken out, some things are getting thrown away. Mission accomplished.

The other linen closet is in the large bathroom and has been an eyesore for a very long time. There are always beach towels (even though we don't go that often, something we hope to change this summer) falling over each other on top. Oh, by the way, it is a free standing cabinet that sits in the corner opposite the toilet (so we get to look at it everytime we sit for a spell). The sheets and pillow cases inside are pushed in every which way and the doors do not properly close, ever.

I had not planned on tackling this closet. But the house was still quiet and it was only 9am or so. I lost track of time. Cleaning can do that to me. I decided to go for it. My first course of action was to put the beach towels where the reams of toilet paper rolls are kept. Never mind the worry that "WHERE ARE WE GOING TO PUT THE TOILET PAPER?!" I pulled out the rolls and starting folding the large beach towels and stacking them on top of one another. They fit with room to spare because that shelf is extra long (the shelf that divides it in two sits on the bottom because the little shelf holder inserts are lost forever).

Next was the sheets. I began refolding and organizing. Fitted sheet with matching flat sheet on top was the order. I even remembered how my mom had always tried to teach my how to fold fitted sheets and I never cared enough to do it until today. It worked beautifully. The sheets look marvelous - perfectly folded and sitting squarely one on top of another. I thought about how important it was for my mom to fold the fitted sheets correctly and I just never did it. My poor mother gave up. But now, decades later, I remember what she showed me and I finally appreciate the technique enough, or care enough, to use it!

Lesson: Do not be discouraged if your children do not learn what you teach them the moment that you teach them. Keep doing what your think is right, best, wise, etc and maybe one day, when the moment is right, they will finally get it. It encourages me to keep living the best I can and not be anxious if my children do not pick up on everything right now.........

Again, I took out a bunch of things - several King size sheets in colors that no longer match our bedroom but I had bought on sale back when I didn't know what colors I wanted in my room, or again, didn't really care as much. Funny how life changes. My dog, Oli, snuggled in those sheets until I put them with the discards from the other closet. And then, the miracle of all miracles! "THERE WAS ROOM FOR THE TOILET PAPER ON THE TOP SHELF!" I put in the last roll and shut the door - incidentally, they all shut properly now, or at least, for now. (Have learned that you can't get too excited about a finished cleaning project because you never know how long it will last.) Then I said to myself :

(Lesson) " Everything fit just by taking a few things out!"

Immediately I thought of life. There are so many things I want to fit in my life. There is music, family, teaching yoga, getting a Master's Degree and all the incidentals to that, making a home, cleaning, cooking healthy meals..............how to fit it all in. So, perhaps if I just dive into the closet of "want to do's", take a few things out , maybe everything that needs to will fit.