August 2020

Hello my friends, this week I am trying something new. It is called writing while hungry. I do not recommend it. In fact, beyond eating, I do not recommend doing very many activities while hungry. So far in the last 2 hours, in which I have been hungry, I have successfully yelled at my kids and then apologized 3 times. I have annoyingly given my puppy the stink eye because he needs to go outside (again) and who does that to an adorable puppy? And stubbed my pinky toe. I have drank a lot of water which makes me need to go to the bathroom more, which also annoys me. I am no good hungry.

I am trying to eat less snacks. I have been over snacking pretty much every day for about 30 or 60 or 90 days, I’m not sure which number it is right now. I am trying to get a little control of my snacking and I will tell you, my body is not happy with the new arrangement. 

I will write and try to distract myself from the small package of gummy bears which are hidden away where only I can find them. Someone should hide those bears from me. 

This week was a heavy one, the shooting of Jacob Blake, the response of more riots and protests, the loss of Chadwick Boseman, airline layoffs and some very sad parents returning to pick up their freshman children from universities with COVID outbreaks— can we say uncle yet? I’m in dire need of an adorable puppy or baby video pronto. Can we bring the funny memes back please, who is in charge of that?

Margaret Wehrenberg, psychotherapist and expert in anxiety coined the phrase, “worry well but only once”. The problem it seems Margaret, is that there are so many different things to worry about. I wish I could say that it is just the hunger that is making me, in the words of my children, “triggered” but I think it is combination of a whole lotta things and a whole lotta more things coming.

My goal right now, in my current life situation, is to work my way OUT of a couple of jobs. Since my kids are currently homeschooling and are teenagers and a pre-teen, I am working on working my way out of jobs like, the wake up committee, dress code (PJ while zooming) check committee, proper posture check-er, hallway monitor, food service provider, homework quality assurance expert, risk management (as in you don’t get your work done I will lock you in closet), and timekeeper. It reminded me of that saying about how it is our goal in parenting, to work our way out of a job. Well it seems, this is one of those times where we are either giving ourselves more jobs list or actively trying to give ourselves less. 

Taking on less is strangely hard work. It means we have to turn our head the other direction when we see a big mess on the dining room table or when we know someone isn’t doing an A+ job at work but our intervention will require loads of time and effort. When we have a lot on our mind or our plate, the ability to turn our head and look away becomes more difficult instead of easier. We seem to get fixated on the dirty dining room table, the need to organize our pantry or clean out our car which has been a mess for months. A friend of mine once referred to this as the college experience of “taking the time to alphabetize your CD collection at 1:00 am when you have a final the next day” phenomena. It is so strangely true, when we need to preserve, we exert, when we need to say no we say yes, when we need to take a nap, we start a Netflix binge marathon, or decide to bake a pie from scratch. We cannot be trusted.

I didn’t really call this out on myself until I was in my mid-30’s, really tired and really OVER engaged in volunteering and helping and being at everything as I had determined life required. It was that phase where everyone was writing books about how to say no, the best yes and being Mary in a Martha world. Like a lot of women, I read A LOT of them because it seemed to take me a while to get the message. It is the “you can have and do it all” manifesto that is so common in generation x-fers that for us was accepted as biblical. If we couldn’t have it all, we would die of exhaustion trying. 

I don’t like the “you can/can’t have it all” or the, “you can have it all, just not at the same time” lingo. I think life pushes us eventually to wrestle and then settle with how we feel about this and the best way or sometimes the only way for us to do it. We don’t all have the luxury of choice as to our ideal job, schedule, income, family type or numbers, when someone gets sick or needs to move in with us or support status. Often these choices are made for us and we aren’t the ones in the driver’s seat. The aspirations with which we may begin that journey and where we are with it at mid or end of life is very different. And it should be. 

You can read an article by Anne-Marie Slaughter and her wrestle with leaving Washington during the Obama administration because of her disconnect at home and feel her honesty in where the “you can have it all” took her and where she ended up deciding she didn’t want it.  

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-cant-have-it-all/309020/. You can read or listen to Sheryl Sandberg’s TED talk and decide that her commitment propelled her to amazing places in the work world and maybe women are compromising too much. 

https://www.ted.com/talks/sheryl_sandberg_why_we_have_too_few_women_leaders?language=en  You can listen or read both of them and realize that they both make a really good point, but not be 100% on board with either.

Here is what I come to at the end of it all. There isn’t a best way or a perfect way. I am never ever going to have gotten every single thing on the grocery list, have all the laundry done AND have checked and answered all my emails on the same day. I know where my B and C level work is just enough and most of the time, I’ve embraced that.

I try my best to choose things in my life that make me better at other things in my life, when I have agency to do so. When I over-correlate what I am doing, with who I am, it is often not a good message. 

We are made better by all of us and all of our ways. We need Sheryl and Anne-Marie and Mary and Martha.  It requires support by all of us to navigate this crazy life. We are made better by mothers that stay at home and mothers that work, by parents who are active in PTA’s and parents that can participate by giving money, or question why we need to give so much money. We are made better by the mom on the zoom call asking so many questions and the one who has a blank look in her eyes when you tell her school starts tomorrow. We are made better by the dad who coaches the team and by the dad who yells from the stands. We are better by the support of churches and communities and neighborhoods. We are better by diversity of experience and people that bring us perspective and different forms of leadership. We are made better by disagreement, when we take the time to understand that our perspective is not the only one. This is the message to ourselves and our kids that things can be done lots of different ways. This allows us to champion both ourselves and one another. 

My job makes me a better mother, being a mother makes me better at my job, being a good and dedicated friend gives me support and teaches my children about how we chose people in their life that are good for them, being a supportive and committed wife fosters a healthy marriage and teaches my kids about commitment, calling my family and checking in helps me feel connected with them and with my origin family, taking time for spiritual nourishment keeps me on track in how I treat others, and gives me a feeling of peace, leaving space for exercise lowers my stress level, helps ensure my health and gives me time to think. But not all of those things happen perfectly all the time. Sometimes I don’t like my job, sometimes the responsibility of motherhood is overwhelming, sometimes I don’t want to call my friend or my family member, sometimes the last thing I want to do is exercise, sometimes, I’m disappointed in my church and I feel spiritually disconnected. This is the same reality that we can’t get it all done everyday. It feels better to know that. When those temporary times become more permanent, then I know I need to think about if I can make a change. In the meantime, I check myself when I am quick to criticism myself or others. When my plate is full, it is my job to tell you and myself that it is, not to apologize for it, just to say it. And that my friends, is the best we can do.

Turn it off, close your eyes and breath deep.

Advice From A Friend: There is no perfect way

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Welcome friends to week 22 of a little advice from a friend. New things are always hard for me. I like consistent and reliable schedules that I can repeat in my sleep. I don’t love this quality in myself, but I have come to accept it. What I do love is when I get to about week 5 of things, and I’ve got the hang of it and can put myself on autopilot. Mike may say, what do we have on Tuesday, and I can rattle off EXACTLY what we have on Tuesday. I’m not sure this should be such a moment of pride for me. This week was a nick of time week for us. That means, we managed to be there, right in the nick of time with just enough of what we needed. (I went with the NO on buying school supplies, by the way, so thanks to those who gave me permission for that!).  I have come to accept this as a way of life because that is the best I’ve got to bring to the table this week. I did not have a perfectly decorated adorable work-station for each of my kids (but I LOVED the pictures of those who did). They did all have a pencil, a notebook, and a laptop, so I call that a win. I find myself strangely more welcoming and forgiving, running at this pace. It is that “haggard but present” kind of place for me, and sometimes, it brings out a different type of best in me.

I was not home a lot during homeschooling this week. I worried about my kid’s ability to self-monitor, regulate, be on when they needed, not be tempted by their phones or videogames, or even by just sleeping in.  I resisted the urge to nag my kids about if they were where they were supposed to be at the time they were to be there. I gave them the, I need you to own this for you and me. As far as I know, they did. When we tasted the ultimate freedom of Friday, everyone breathed a big sigh. The limited words of the week (we had a heavy grunt in response week) came out in plenty on Friday. They had been storing them, reserving them until they knew better. They didn’t need the emotional exhaustion of giving me the play by play during the week (which I kind of wanted but yet didn’t). They ended the week feeling happy that we had finally started. They got familiar with the animal in front of them and felt that “I can do this” feeling. I felt it too.  

What this felt like, was a new level of maturity. Every school year, I look at those back to school pictures from five years ago, three years ago, even last year, and think they’ve grown so much. When did this happen, did I sleep through it?  But they haven’t just grown physically, they have grown intellectually, and emotionally. Their little brains have changed and connected. They speak a little differently; they formulate ideas a little quicker; they sometimes even see outside of what is happening to THEM. This, my friends, is maturity, and it is good to stop and see it because it is happening in the same way they are 2 inches taller. 

Whether we like it or not, our kids are coming from a generation that knows too much too soon. They are told to say how they feel and fight for what they want, and yet be careful of what they post as it may destroy their college possibilities and, ultimately, the rest of their life. What they have seen on TV, their laptops and phones can’t be filtered to only what we want them to see at the age we want them to view it.  We instruct them to stand up for those that need it, yet, don’t insert yourself into trouble as it might be dangerous. Their mixed messages come from social media, their peers, and even us. Sometimes, I think about how lucky I was not to know too much too soon. It is quite a burden.

Maturity is a big word in all that it represents. Our expectation of what maturity looks like in our kids, and ourselves changes with our life experience and aging. If we have a child who can easily keep track of themselves, we usually expect even more. If we have a child who has trouble staying on a carpet square for 5 minutes, we temper our expectations (eventually, sometimes this takes a while). There is nothing wrong with this. The idea that every child or every person is going to easily be able to behave in the same way in all circumstances gets us in trouble. Maturity, like physical growth, doesn’t happen at equal speed for everyone, but we sure forget that sometimes when we are in the midst of it. 

 The reality is, irresponsible behavior, mood swings, and lack of cooperation are age appropriate at certain times. I remember a long time ago when my pediatrician told me to read the books titled by age. For example, “Your Six-Year-Old, Loving and Defiant.” When desperation called, and I would finally resort to reading the book, I would think,  YES, that is why you are acting like such a fool, that is the best you can do. I changed my expectation, and we made it through three six-year-olds loving and defiant phase. As my kids became teenagers, I read every article I could find about what to expect and tips on raising teenagers. I read about the years of most likely rebellion, the years of big attitude swings, and the years of heavy peer influence. This helped me put a lot together on what to expect and what boundaries to set. I remember a moment a couple of years ago when my daughter was crying for literally no good reason, and I said, “Why in the world are you crying?” Her answer was honest and pure, “I have NO idea.” (then I started reading books about tween girls).

Our kids often can’t explain why they feel how they feel or why they did what they did. Their brain is changing. They are exposed to a lot, which slows that process DOWN instead of speeding it up. We know by now that brains don’t fully mature until our early 20’s, but we don’t always know what that looks like in a real kid. The stops and starts are confusing and even paralyzing. Why does your child exhibit the same bad behavior over and over? Perhaps they don’t have the neural capacity to find their way out of it. 

Maturity begins with small steps. You all may have seen the TiKTock with the kids and the treats. The parent puts something temping right in front of the toddler and then says something to the effect of, you can have this when I get back, but don’t eat it until I do. Then they walk away. The child is alone, no supervision, and the test is, do they have the ability to delay gratification. When watching these videos,  it occurred to me that these toddlers seem to have more ability to do this than I do to delay gratification (as I stare a chocolate brownie in the face that I want to eat for breakfast.). I watched like 30 videos, and in every single one, the toddler didn’t eat the treat! Why can a toddler do it, but a teenager can’t?

 Growth in maturity takes a hefty combination of time, feedback, experience, and for me, prayer. Fostering maturity can help the same way that proper nutrition can help with physical growth. It starts with remembering where they were and where they are now. This can be so easily forgotten on the first day of school, while the 3-inch height difference cannot. 

For younger children, an ability to get yourself dressed, remember to brush your teeth, put on your shoes is a big deal. For a teenager, a decision to ask permission, vs. forgiveness to take the car shows maturity. The choice to tell you that something is broken instead of hiding it. The admittance that they didn’t finish their work before they got on to start gaming says a lot. Celebrating a child/teenager recognition of error is a way of fostering maturity. Perhaps your child can’t be on the 40-minute zoom call yet independently, but maybe they can move from 15 to 20. This is a big deal and can be celebrated. Perhaps they aren’t meeting the universal bar, but you know that they are raising theirs. This is how we take our people and move them along in maturity, by knowing what is typical, by understanding our child and by setting reasonable expectations. (Don’t put a chocolate brownie in front of me at breakfast and expect it to be there at lunch). 

Here are some things I have worked on with my own family when it comes to maturity. Maturity means learning early on that if we over-invest in people’s flattery or criticism, it leads to trouble. If I am perpetually looking to someone to cheer me on to fill myself worth bucket, this will no doubt run dry. By the same token, if I allow the criticism of others to fill my head with messaging, no doubt I will end up feeling, in the words of my father, lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut. My identity and self-worth come from me; it has too. Beginning that messaging in younger children is critical for the social media road ahead.

Maturity means learning to acknowledge feelings and their role. Learning to regulate emotions, to act from a place of maturity, will allow better relationships, better communication, and overall a life that is rich with a variety of different types of people. It is never the feeling that is the problem; it is the action that is a result of the feeling. The repeated messaging for toddlers that you can be frustrated, but you cannot bite/hit is the most straightforward example. In a teenage version, it may be, you can not like your teacher, but you still have to be respectful and do the work. Acknowledging feelings allows maturity because it doesn’t make anyone feel “bad” about the way they feel. What it will enable is us to feel normal. I’m frustrated that you have to be in front of a screen all day too, it stinks. However, this is where we are and what we have to do to get back in the classroom safely, hopefully. 

Maturity means learning to pause. This means not always saying exactly what is going through our heads. I think this may be equally difficult for adults as it is for children.  It is the impulse control exercise in another form.  Sometimes on the inside, is precisely where our feelings belong. It usually requires that we, as the parent, can handle something better than our emotionally volatile child. They are on the rollercoaster; we are on the platform. Our children have a much better shot at maturity if they see an example of it from us. This means when we don’t act maturely (which if you are like me is happening pretty regularly right now), we highlight it, we explain it, and we reflect on why our comment or response was immature and inappropriate. 

Maturity means, when there is an opportunity NOT to personalize something, I take it and encourage my kids to do the same. If a friend chooses a sleepover with another child instead of yours, if your teenager gets broken up with, if someone flakes out at me at the last minute, what better opportunity to discuss the option of not personalizing. When we put ourselves on the chopping block of allowing other people to decide if we are a good enough friend for the sleepover or a good enough partner for the relationship, we risk a lot, and we usually lose the self-esteem battle. Maturity also means we do not have to love or agree with others universally. I don’t have to like my boss, my neighbor, my best friend’s friend, or my carpool partner. When we use language that reflects that we will not be universally loved or agreed with, we give our worth back to ourselves.  It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and it should make us mad or sad, but it does mean that we give ourselves the freedom not to have to be likable to everyone. There is continued growth after realizing a feeling that someone just doesn’t get us. When we have been disappointed by someone, the story we tell ourselves and the “why’s” is often not an accurate one. There is no medal at the end of our life because we managed to be liked by everyone, or we were never broken up with. There is great freedom in not having to personalize everyone’s feelings about us and, in turn, not having to justify our beliefs about others.  

Maturity, COVID-19 style, requires us to tell our families and ourselves that these are unusually stressful times. Not getting the smooth road we want, the classes we want, the ideal learning environment we want, the sorority/fraternity we want,  the happy attitudes we want, the sports we want, HURTS, but we still control how we react. Acknowledgment of these hurts is critical, but a cool head is just as needed. Using phrases like, I know this hurts, I know this isn’t what you wanted, I know you disagree, I know you deserved something different than what you got, I know this isn’t the senior/freshman year you looked forward to, DOES matter. I wish it were easier, and not, let me fix it for you. Fixing does not allow the building blocks of maturity.  

It is our season for maturity as we move ahead and tackle additional unknowns. Take a moment to think of how you have grown and how your people have too.

Get outside, count your blessing, take your time

Advice From A Friend: Foster an environment and relationships that breed maturity

PS: I will put some of favorite parenting books on my website this week!!!

I’m back friends!!!!! It is week 21 of our journey, and I hope you all are hanging in there. I needed a little reset to get myself ready for the adventure ahead. For our family, this means return to school, some activities, an increase in work, and lots of unknowns. The timing couldn’t have been better as I have six zoom calls and a volunteer activity next week outside of work. It’s deep breathing time. 

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my son just finished his first stab at his college application essay. Even writing or saying that makes my heart feel equal amounts of excitement and sadness. His theme is about a time of loneliness, and I am in pieces. We spend this tremendous amount of time laying groundwork with our kids to help them develop and mature. We want them to learn from mistakes, to guard them against dangerous cliffs, and to prod them along this journey without lawnmowing or helicoptering. We should be doing the same thing for ourselves. After all, even in adulthood or even more in adulthood, we need the work. If we could only bring our best self into every interaction we have, there is no question; our lives would look very different. Our relationships would be better, our communication more transparent, and our stress levels lower. But this among the list of impossible asks (like expecting a regular school year). It’s re-framing time, or in my case, I like to call it, lower the bar time. This usually changes my perspective just enough to better roll with the punches and give myself and others the grace they need and deserve. Maybe the fact that I didn’t always have the right words, or respond the ideal way, is actually why my son can write an essay about loneliness. After all, loneliness is a normal and inevitable experience. It helps us to realize why we work hard for love and connection. Reading a 17-year-old reflect on moments of joy and moments of loneliness will either a) take you under or b) force a re-frame. I’m going with B Pat (Sajak). 

I read a newspaper article many years ago about a family whose father was elderly (over 85) had survived his wife, cancer, and a myriad of other things. He had all the conditions that are common in older adults, beginning memory lapses, poor balance, a long list of medications, high blood pressure, and neuropathy. He had come in the office with his son for a re-check. His regular physician was out of the office, so he had some fresh eyes. The new doctor recommended another medication and some rehab. The elderly gentlemen looked apathetic and didn’t say much while the son took charge in a sort of, I love you enough to take charge, kind of way. Noticing the tune out by the elderly man and the zealous nature of the loving son, the physician said, “What is most important to you, sir, at this phase of your life.” The man turned, brightened, and said, “I want to stop going to the doctor and enjoy my life at home with some visits from my family.” The son was amazed; he had not heard his father speak so directly about what he wanted. The physician said, “Okay, let’s see what that looks like and make that happen.”

Life is a lot about laying groundwork, having the best of intentions, and realizing we can’t always get it right. No question the son loved his father, so much so, he was taking him for his doctor visit. But for the elderly father, what did love look like? Love is about intention and mistakes, more intention, and more mistakes. Love looks a lot of ways, but more often then ever, it looks messy. For me, love looks like looking at a homeless person in the eye and smiling, visiting with a neighbor that I do not politically agree with and offering to help, wiping the food off a dribbling elderly parents mouth, hugging your teenager although you are not proud of the way they are acting, answering the phone call when you don’t have the time for the conversation, forgiving yourself when you get it wrong, bringing in “c” level participation sometimes because you needed a breath to regather, more than you needed to show up with “a” level involvement, showing up for someone who you know is slipping when there are 1,000 other places you’d like to go and not apologizing for whatever way it is that you are doing your best. Love looks like listening to your elderly parent when they say that they are ready to do this differently and not personalizing it when your child reminds you that they are not always happy or grateful. When things are falling apart, love looks like standing there and sometimes watching them fall. 

There was a part of me, the idealistic section, no doubt, that believed that start of school might bring a fresh new wind to us. We would have something else to focus on and maybe even be excited about. Except it doesn’t look the way we’d like and unknown equals scary, which translates to reactive for most of us. It helps me to call a spade a spade in these moments. The start of school is going to be bumpy and frustrating. We are going to debate, argue, and see every single thing politicized until November (and likely after that). We will continue to get thrown statistics that paint only part of one story, listen to leaders tell us their version of what we should believe, see a LOT of fake news, wonder who took the masks out of the car as we turn around to go back home to get more and still have to figure out what is for dinner as we stare a big pile of laundry in the face. Financial instability is staring lots of people right in the face right now, work status is changing, schooling must be navigated differently, and life is reaching a new level of hard. Adding to that, my typical 5-day late birthday cards, will surely now be EVEN later because I can’t seem ever to make that happen on a great timeline when our postal system is working seamlessly. It might be time for adorable e-cards. This is a moment our love is tested, and we cannot turn away, we must turn toward.

Turning towards does not mean solving. It does not mean having all the answers, not acknowledging how hard this is, or beating ourselves up because we didn’t get it right.  It does not mean feeling guilty for your privilege or not feeling tired and overwhelmed. Turning toward means we can say, this is the worst, what do I need to do to get through so I can operate at my best capacity (which maybe 50%).  Turning toward can mean, just wiping the food off someone’s face and not worrying about who is going to do it next time, taking the phone call, thanking the teacher even though it isn’t the one you wanted, not reading the Facebook post, cereal for dinner, reading some fiction, watching a comedy, lowering the bar or reading your son’s essay or listening to your father speak about what he wants and realizing that it’s not personal. 

If we spend our time running away and dodging, we will miss the genuine moments of love, where we find ourselves among it, sitting with it and learning from it. Running your father around to 100 doctor appointments isn’t more loving than sitting quietly with him at home. Publicly throwing shade on your school, your workplace, your leaders, or your family doesn’t mean you care more than if you decide to write an email, make a phone call or find a way to channel what you are looking for. Love doesn’t have to be public or loud; it doesn’t have to look the same, but it does have to be intentional, and it also has to be cultivated for your own self.  

What if we instead just welcomed the discomfort for a while in the act of love. We wear the mask even though we hate it, we leave the person in the grocery store alone who isn’t wearing one, we give our school system some grace, we look at our change in finances as a place to re-prioritize, and we don’t keep raising the bar for ourselves or others. We don’t stop talking, but maybe our voice is quiet and intentional instead of overwhelming and demanding. What if we don’t equate doing more, to loving more. Looking at our nation’s history is like me looking at my parenting history, full of mistakes, twists, and bends I’m not proud of but also full of apologies, work to do betters, and moments of great joy in growth. In the words of the great Maya Angelo, “When we know better, we do better.” In the words of the also great Dolly Parton, “And you just do stuff not realizing, but as soon as you realize that it is a problem, you should fix it. Don’t be a dumbass.”

Love means we can disagree and still love each other, that is turning toward. Love realizes that no one can know how we feel unless we tell them what we need.  Love makes me look my son in the eye and say, this was hard to read, I am proud of you and I love you. Love does not require us to solve, but love does not look away. If you want to do better, start with loving yourself. Whatever that looks like can be intentionally shared with others. 

Advice From A Friend: Love starts with you

A spoonful of what I am telling myself this week:

I will talk to myself in the same voice that I soothingly talk to the people I love.

My mistakes will outscore my victories, and in scorekeeping, it is only I that lose.

I cannot honestly address a problem, that I do not acknowledge exists

When the rug is pulled out, the course I’ve carefully navigated has been changed without my consent, my first step should always be to turn off the noise and pause. Bringing the situation down to size ensures that I can address it in the way I need.

Relationships crumble under the weight of unspoken resentments and unacknowledged hurts. When we ignore the pain, the cancer spreads, the wound infects into our health, our mental clarity, our mood, our friendships, our faith, and our relationships with others. Our ability to feel joy and contentment is stolen and it is usually due to negligence and silence.

If our kindness and compassion extends only to those we agree with, we aren’t truly kind or compassionate. 

Remembering that you are doing the best you can with what you have, also reminds you that so is everyone else.

Apologizing doesn’t always mean that you are wrong and the other person is right, it sometimes means you value your relationship, over your ego. 

In these moments, where we are angry, distraught, confused, overwhelmed or just over it, the medicine to our afflictions never involves shaming of ourselves or others. 

The last question you should ever ask yourself is, what will people think?

Advice From A Friend: The only way out is through