One of my goals as I approached 40 was to start living my life in such a way that less is more. I've touched on this philosophy in prior posts, but I think at this time of year, it is especially poignant.
I did a really good job of avoiding the stores this weekend. (I did treat myself to a couple Creative Live classes, though!) I think this holiday can bring out the best and the worst in people. Coming from a poor background myself, it also occurs to me that this holiday encourages people who really cannot afford to shop to excess to do so. Credit card companies and big box stores encourage rampant consumerism and debt. While I appreciate what American Express is doing with Small Business Saturday, most large companies are intent on raising their bottom line while paying their employees minimum wage.
And as Americans, we sure do love our "stuff" - drive around the neighborhood, and you'll notice that three car garages are the curbside focal-point of modern homes much of the time. Places to store our stuff. Our status symbols. I'm to the point in my life where I'm seeing how ridiculous it all is. That stuff enslaves us to jobs we don't like and shortens our lives because of the stress it induces.
I'm over it.
If it weren't for the fact that my child needs to be in a stable environment, I'd sell it all and travel the world.
Anyway, I discovered the blog Becoming Minimalist a month or so ago. I really enjoy Joshua's writing, and he comes from a place of conscious consumerism and financial responsibility. I highly recommend his articles. This is my current favorite.
It's something I'm trying to be better about implementing with my own family. Our kids deserve our time - it's the best way we can show them our love.
This season, I encourage you to think about what really matters. I'd wager it's not half as important as a new TV, a fancy handbag, or a heaving toy chest.
This Father's Day, I wanted to share something very personal with you, which makes me so incredibly thankful that this day is no longer a date on the calendar I dread.
In March of 2008, suddenly my daughter no longer had a father. After battling severe depression for many years, her dad chose to take his own life shortly before her 4th birthday. It's something that rocked her to the core, and left me trying to pick up the pieces of both of our lives. I struggled with forgiveness, guilt, and anger as she struggled with pain and abandonment. I look back on that time in my life, and I'm not sure how I survived it - but my child gave me a reason, and God gave me the strength.
On Father's Day, whenever I passed by a stand of cards proclaiming "World's Best Dad" I would cringe inside. I'd mourn the fact that my daughter would have to sit alone amongst the lucky kids who still had their fathers every time this holiday came around. My dad tried to be there for her. Her uncles tried. It just wasn't the same. I had a little girl with an irrevocably broken heart, and no amount of grief counseling or caring people could fill that void.
And then, almost two years later, I met Ryan.
I was so nervous when I discovered that he didn't have kids of his own. Would he understand that I didn't have free time at the drop of a hat? Would he be the stereotypical boyfriend - fun to have around, but suddenly disappearing when things got rough? Most importantly, could I ever trust this man with my daughter's heart?
It's been over five years since our first date.
She has tested his love. She has tried to push him away. But he's not easily pushed.
My daughter has a father. She has a man who wasn't afraid to face the difficulties of a broken heart or a broken child. She has a dad who won't abandon her, a man who was waiting at the end of an aisle to promise to me, as well as to her, his lifelong love.
He's the man who has taught her how to ride a bike. He helps her stumble through multiplication tables and spelling lists. He has taken her to the movies and to the dentist, and now reaps the benefit of hearing a little girl with a tattered, but freshly mended heart say, "This is my dad."
Love doesn't come from shared blood. Love comes from the heart. Happy Father's Day.
Seems like only a few months ago that I was feeling you hiccup, my belly bouncing up and down with every movement. How did the time go so fast?
No...I wouldn't stop it, not even if I had the chance.
You are caught in the cusp between early childhood and adolescence. You strive toward independence, but like a baby bird not quite strong enough to fly on its own, you struggle. You're not quite tall enough to reach the top cabinet without a chair. You aren't quite ready for the stream of hormones that are beginning to hit your body. You aren't quite ready to stop calling me Mommy. (I'm glad for that one.)
Being your mom isn't always easy - you are strong-willed and you test your boundaries constantly. I'm a soft one and you know it. But you need me to be hard, and I'm getting better at that. I know that when 13 and 16 are looming, you will need my wall to be impermeable, no matter how you test me. You showed me what's to come with the spectacular tantrum you threw the other night. I remember those days myself: the crying jags, the hysterics, the slamming doors.
But, you are my little girl - the one who curls beside me like an apostrophe when we watch tv. The one, who when I reach behind me at a stoplight, still grabs my hand and squeezes it like you've done since age three. That's our thing.
Being the mother of an only child can be tricky, dancing around the spectre of co-dependency and trying not to make our relationship so symbiotic that I crush you.
As you get older, I will push you from the nest. It will take every ounce of self-control I have not to fly after you. But, as I watch you grow and make your own decisions, good and bad, I will remind myself that you are going to be double digits for the rest of your life. And that even though you'll always be my little girl, it's your own life to live.
Hey guys! I hope you're enjoying the time change if your part of the world participates. I'm sure loving the extended daylight hours. Spring break is in full swing at our house, and I'll be taking this week off from the blogosphere to do some regional travel and spend time with my family. I'm looking forward to dreaming up new content and refreshing my spirit with a change of scenery. I'll see you next week!
If you follow the news, by this time you have probably heard about the tragic kidnapping and murder of an innocent 10-year old girl named Hailey. Our city is reeling with grief and devastated by this senseless, random act. As a mother, I am broken by her passing. It has made me feel vulnerable and raw in a way that few acts of violence ever have.
But I don't want to focus on evil. There are plenty of news stories about evil.
I want to focus on love.
Candlelight vigils are something I've seen many other towns do in times of crisis, but I had never participated in one myself. Saturday, our city came together in the most beautiful show of compassion and solidarity I have ever seen. Hailey, with her bright eyes and her big smile, taught us how to love one another through our pain. How to stand shoulder-to-shoulder and give of our time, our courage, our patience.
I saw things that I have never witnessed in my 39 years of living in this town. I saw people sharing in a way that can only be described as supernatural. I believe in God. But I felt God in a way I hadn't experienced before that night.
I'm not too heavy-handed with Bible verses on this blog, but the verses from Isaiah 61:3 rang through my heart that night:
"To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified."
Hailey, we love you. We miss you. We hold up your Mama in her grief. And we will never, ever forget.
Hug your children. Then, to really know my city, watch this...
From the time we're little, we're spoon-fed a myth: Happily Ever After. That we'll meet someone, fall in love, and be swept up in moments that take our breath away. Forever.
Except, forever isn't supposed to snore. Forever isn't supposed to be allergic to your cat, or leave dirty dishes on the couch.
Reality is Happily Ever After's ugly stepsister. And Reality trumps any bodice-ripping notion of what true love is.
Here's the thing I've learned: love is a choice. Unless you are in a destructive relationship, you are not victimized by it - nor are you blameless when it begins to fade. Having been married twice, I can attest to the fact that there are things that I have done wrong. That I still do wrong. It's easy to become frustrated, and lash out at those closest to us. I've been passive-aggressive and petty. I've had to "win."
But, when you really love someone, you learn to bite your tongue. Hard. I have unwittingly wounded my husband with my fierce independence at times. I don't like being vulnerable. Love makes you vulnerable. Becoming intimate means revealing the soft flesh of your underbelly, both literally and figuritively. It means shining light on the shadows that hide in our bank accounts and our medical records. It means becoming humble.
Infatuation is like an over-exposed photograph: in those early days, everything is blown-out and bathed in the light of false perfection. After about the 6-month mark, the flaws start showing. He is a tad too obsessed with football. She has a bad habit of leaving hair on the shower wall. Sometimes these little annoyances become so overwhelming that we break up with someone, chasing an elusive goal of perfect romance. Someone who will agree with us all the time. Someone who's always ready for sex. Someone who knows our needs without having to speak them aloud. Good luck with that.
My husband and I are learning, together. He is learning that while I am (cursed) with an encyclopedic knowledge of mostly useless random facts, that I'm really not trying to be a know-it-all. I'm just an avid reader, and retain a lot.(I also can't remember what I did with my keys or phone half the time!)
I'm learning that when he asks me a question, it doesn't mean he's criticizing me, he's just curious. And that I'm as much of a devil's advocate as he is, so I need to just deal with having a relationship that sometimes resembles a debate tournament. Arguments aren't always personal attacks, and can be fun. Especially if wine is involved!
I'm learning that we don't have to like the same things all the time. That it's fine for him to love Battlestar Galactica more than Ghost Adventures. It's even okay when we fight over the thermostat. Those fleeting moments of romance and alone time are made all the more sweeter, because we've learned that having some opposing tastes, and keeping a few secrets, are part of what keeps things exciting.
I've discovered that choosing to love during the times when I don't really want to be loving is a powerful thing. That it can turn moods and make memories. That saying "I'm sorry" consciously is a whole lot different than just saying it. And that there are some things that are better left unsaid, and communicated with touch.
It's impossible to stay mad at someone who tickles you. Try it.
Love is actually...work. And anyone who tells you it's easy is delusional or lying. In this curated, social-media laden world we live in, it's easy to get the idea that love is breakfast in bed with fresh flowers every day, and cute couples in pigeon-toed poses. But love is laughing at lame jokes, helping the kids with homework, and vacuuming out the car. Love is present in the most mediocre moments. It's what happens after wedding registries, new houses, layoffs, and cancer. It's choosing to be there, even in the hard times, when you may not want to be.
I love sitting by the fire with my family when it's cold outside. We were just relaxing - me with my knitting, my daughter with her notebook and pencil, when I noticed how gorgeous the interplay of light and shadow was. I grabbed my camera and started shooting. I probably should have used my tripod, but these chances are fleeting with my camera-shy daughter. I hope I captured the warmth of the moment in these photos. I'll probably never be a strobist, even though that is an art unto itself. I prefer(trying)to use whatever ambient light is available. My pictures may sometimes have noise because of this, but I'm after a mood more than technical perfection anyway. How do you like to shoot in low light situations?
Camera Settings:
{f/1.8 1/60sec | ISO 800} Canon Rebel XS shot with 85mm prime lens.
There have been tons of posts written in the last couple weeks or so about the polar vortex. If you're a Midwesterner, you're quite acquainted with that term - and the Eastern seaboard got its fair share as well. I have never experienced such frigid temperatures, and it makes me appreciate those who live in colder climates. You guys are tough!
My daughter has missed a lot of school, and with that time, she has grown restless and bored. I have as well, and it has also forced some perspective on our time at home. While we have spent some of the time baking, doing crafts, and etc - we have relied upon technology for much of our entertainment. That's fine, but it makes me aware of how quickly our attention-spans are broken. I've written posts on this before.
And then there were the deer.
The other morning, after yet another 5am phone call from our school canceling classes, I got up, had a cup of coffee, and watched the sun slowly come up. As daylight came through the windows, I looked down the hill, and saw an entire family of deer grazing on the honeysuckle in our back yard.
There were three does and a fawn - the fading speckles of its newborn coat still visible. Mama and baby were never further than a few feet away from each other, and she would lift her head often, ears rotating to hear any possible danger before it reached them. They were intent on one purpose - survival. As they pawed at the snow, looking for any fallen morsels, I had both sympathy for their winter plight and how incredibly selfish I was to be bored in my comfortable house.
The animal-lover in me was pulled to help, but the realist spoke up and said that nature has its way, and human intervention can sometimes create more harm than good. I soothed myself with the memory of fallen crab apples and the compost heap I started last year, full of apple cores, banana peels and the like.
I called for my daughter to come to the window, and we stood for many minutes, iPads and computer games forgotten as we watched this little family. She asked me, "Mommy, why do we only see the girl deer?"
I told her that female deer protect the young, and forage together in groups, while the male deer are more solitary. This led to a whole conversation about what animals do in the winter - how snakes, bunnies, lizards and squirrels survive the cold.
Which led to us reading books on the subject(with lots of cuddling.) And then we watched a documentary on arctic animals.
And this is how we spent our(hopefully)final snow day.
Thank you, deer, for reminding me that the world is much bigger than a flickering screen, and that the feeling of boredom is a luxury.
As the final hours of 2013 draw to a close, I am - like so many others - contemplating the past year and all of the events which defined it. It was a tough year, but also one filled with positive changes. I lost my dad, but his gift to me was a clearer realization of what is most important in life. I started out 2013 wanting to be a better person, and I'm still working on that. I think it will be a lifelong goal, really.
As 2014 approaches, I have come up with a few goals that I'd like to accomplish in the new year:
Improve my photography. I never thought that picking up a camera would become such a gratifying hobby. I want to learn more about the technical side of photography, and become more adept at PhotoShop.
Improve my diet. I know this is a common one - but I am a chronic migraine sufferer, and they are a major problem. I have heard that a gluten-free diet, and one without artificial sweeteners, helps with this. So these are my diet goals for 2014. Really, to eliminate most processed foods. Look for more healthful recipes on the blog as I transition.
To be a more patient mother. I am learning to not be so reactive, but there are times when my frustration gets the best of me. Parenting a strong-willed child who has a tendency toward being oppositional can be hard. I am learning to give myself time-outs. I need to just. breathe.
To teach my daughter charity - in a real way. We donate to local charities and services, but I want her to be involved in serving people in a hands-on way. I think volunteering at the Kitchen or Rare Breed, two of our local services for the homeless, will be a way for her to learn gratitude.
To have more of a social life. I am a true introvert, and I really enjoy the quietness of home. But, I haven't always been a present friend this year. While my days of bar-hopping are definitely over (and I don't miss them at all) I do want to make an effort to entertain and have nice dinners and drinks with close friends. Next comes bridge club. ;)
To reinstitute date night. My husband and I have had a hectic year, and our date nights have been shoved to the back burner. I honestly can't think of the last time we went out by ourselves for dinner and a movie. This has to change!
Are you making a resolution/to-do list for 2014? I'd love to know what your goals are for the new year!
I'll be taking a little break from the blog as we spend time with family over the holiday, but I'll be back next week. Until then, have a wonderful Christmas with those you love!
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