A Space to Call My Own

For Mother's Day, my husband got me a sign to hang on the door that says, "Welcome to the Nut House". I have been eyeing something along those lines for a while because it captures the craziness of our lives.

Author, Jodi Piccoult, says in one of her books that every life has a song...a melody that captures the rhythm of how we live.

I have mentioned before that my song is probably the William Tell Overture.

Which makes me reminisce about a time when life was not so busy. I was twenty-one years old and on a three month trip to Italy. I have a dear friend who lives there and had gone to visit her and her family for a second time.

Upon my arrival, she ushered me in to a very compact what-used-to-be closet. They had made the room in to a bedroom with a little fold down cot. The space probably measured five feet by eight feet. It was smaller than my current bathroom, which, let me tell you, is really small!

When you walked in to this space, the bed/cot was immediately to the right and you had to climb a ladder to get in to it. To the left was a bare shelf where I could store any books and/or journals, including my Italian Dostoevsky novel that I was attempting to read (a very lofty undertaking...I should have started out with The Poky Little Puppy).

I unpacked my suitcase and felt peaceful. Without the clutter of life. This was my space. And I treasured it.

Fast forward to today. I've gone from single to a family of five and a half. I am maintaining t-ball and baseball schedules, volunteering at the kids' school, date nights with my hubby, etc. Life is just plain, wonderfully busy.

And so, when I saw Toni Morrison, Nobel and Pulitzer Prize winner, on Oprah talking about how everyone needs their own space, my ears perked up. My own space? You're talking to a woman who uses the bathroom with a kid on her lap half the time (we're having some separation issues).

I began to fantasize about this space. I started looking through Ikea catalogues at cheap desks. I wanted to create a space to do my writing and work on picture albums. And you'll never guess what happened. As I was driving home yesterday, I spotted a beautifully handcrafted desk at a garage sale for twenty dollars. I immediately pulled over and laid my claim to that precious piece of furniture that meant so much more to me than the wood itself. It represented something to call my own. A place to create and dream.

So as I sit here in my roughly five by eight foot space, I am reminded that you don't have to be single to have your own little corner. You just have to create it for yourself. Thank you, Toni, for the inspiration.

Me wearing my heart on my sleeve...again...

Today has been a day of emotion:

As I looked at my husband straightening my son's tie for his first communion, I had the thought, "We are not newbies anymore". Our kids are growing up. I am the one that new moms are asking for advice (there is no reasoning for this and I make no admonitions of having any of it figured out). I was filled with a recognition of the time that has passed and all that we have been through. We are stronger for our struggles.

I watched my eight year old receive the Eucharist for the first time. He is becoming a young man. He is sorting things out and recognizing that there are good and bad choices. He is daily on the threshold of new experiences and hard knocks. He sees first hand that the good guy doesn't always win and "fair" is not always the title-holder at the end of the day. I felt a sense of pride at watching my son take another step in life's journey.

I also received a phone call that was greatly disturbing. One filled with about twenty years full of hurt that I could never have understood as a child and know that it's not my role to understand as an adult. Anger is a sad thing to watch fester. And as I listened I felt a deep sadness for this person, and a surrender of trying to "fix things". Sometimes it just it what it is.

A neighbor came to tell me that his father who "did all the wrong things" had died. He (my neighbor) couldn't sleep at night thinking of his father in regard to "the after-life". When the ones we love leave us behind, it also makes us very aware of our own mortality...the choices we've made, the people we want to become. If we really believe in forgiveness and mercy and love...all that stuff we profess to believe. I felt appreciation for his raw emotion and the things that bring us to our knees when no one else ever knows.

This may seem like a rambling of sorts, but what I really wanted to put down in words is the stuff of life. In the waking of a day, the emotions that come out run the entire gamut.

Joy and pain. Strength and weakness.

And I guess, really, what Super-boy celebrated today encompasses all of that. The suffering, and the rising from the ashes. The loneliness and the embrace. And I think, regardless of what you believe, that's something we all can relate to.

Feel the burn...

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains; it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world". ~C.S. Lewis

Think back to a time of tremendous pain in your life. I'm not talking about life's little inconveniences. Or even things that are very frustrating, but more of an irritation than anything. I'm talking about deep loss. Grief. When the ache feels like too much for you to bear.

I think I can count the number of times I've felt that kind of sadness on one hand.

And yet, when I think back to those times, there was a sense of feeling. Not just skipping through the day oblivious to the world around me. It has been during those times that my friendships have become deeply rooted...that I have bared my vulnerable soul to those around me and have been either kicked or embraced. It has been during these times when I have been made acutely aware of what is real and what is false.

The pain is, at times, what lets us know that we are alive. Human.

I don't like to hurt, or to be hurt. But I do like the healing that comes during and after. Sometimes we need more than a whisper to drag us out of bed.

Why I got kicked out of the club...

When I read this blog, I saw ME written all over it. I also posted this link on my facebook site, so you may have already read it.

But in case you haven't, the gist is that this girl felt like when she became a christian, she had joined a club in which you acted and thought a certain way. No need to tap in to your own gut feelings about things, it's all been laid out for you. This is how we think, act, feel, dress, believe. Wow, could I relate.

Most of you know that I went to a christian college for my first two years of school. While I met a lot of wonderful people, I began to subscribe to the idea that if I wanted to be a part of "the club", I had to be someone other than who I was.

I tried this for a while. I wore ankle length dresses. I probably said things like, "Oh, sugar!" when I was upset. I only hung out with people who were also part of this crowd. I was very holy, indeed....

Until I felt like I was going to suffocate.

The pressure weighed down on me until I couldn't bear it any longer. I was eighteen and I started smoking, drinking, doing all the things that were absolutely not allowed in "the club". And while I didn't like that lifestyle, it felt good to yell at the top of my lungs, "I will not conform to your feathered bangs and your 10:00 curfew!!". I began to despise "the club".

For years, I had a hot/cold relationship with the whole church idea. Then I got married, had children, etc. and seriously re-joined "the club". This time, I would be perfect. I would do and say all of the right things. I would homeschool my children, buy organic food, wear jean jumpers and little make-up. Surprisingly...but not...those old feelings came back to haunt me. I was going to die of suffocation.

And so, I had to figure out some hard and life-giving lessons:

-Jesus came for the sinners, not the saints.

-I am valuable because I was created with human dignity, and not because of all the "good things" that I do. Because I was created in the image of God, himself.

-I am not perfect, nor will I ever be, and that is okay. I am flawed and remarkably human.

-I am not likeable because a group of people deems me so, but because I like myself at the end of the day.

-I'm sick of trying to please others and only need to worry about what Jesus thinks (and as Jamie points out in her blog, Jesus was a non-conformist. He was always pissing people off and served only one purpose: bringing glory to his Father in heaven).

-You can be yourself and love Jesus. You can be yourself and please Jesus. You must be yourself.


I like make-up...a lot. I get highlights. I donated my jean jumpers. I put my kids in school because it was what was best for us. I sometimes use words that are inappropriate (and for some reason, find it exceedingly funny when others do, as well). I like trashy magazines that fill me in on celebrity gossip. And I have a whole laundry list more of things that others might judge me for.

And yet, in all of this, I feel that I have found a happy place. I like me and I know that despite my wariness of "the club", God thinks I'm alright too.

To Plan or Not to Plan

So, today is day four of the kids being on Easter vacation. We have planned a lot of entertaining/stimulating activities for them. For example, on Monday we just met a friend of mine at McDonald's and let the kids run and wear their little selves out.

On Tuesday, I took the kids to the movie theater to see "Rio". I haven't been to the theater in probably three years. I didn't figure in that almost everyone is out for spring break, not jut my kids, and we ended up sitting in the second row. My neck was crooned at a ninety degree angle for the duration of the movie, but the kids were thrilled.

Yesterday, I had my 28 week baby check-up and a hair appointment, so the kids hung out with my mom, dh and the babysitter all day.

This morning, I had planned on taking them to the science museum, but Super-boy has had a nasty cough for the last couple of days. At about 9:30, everyone was driving each other crazy. They were fighting over a bugle that I very calmly stuffed in the garbage after one child went after the other with it and it was thrown hitting the chandelier. No, our house is not typically that out of control, but it can escalate quickly.

All three children then began to cry and I had the anxious impulse to get everyone ready and get them the heck out of the house. But why?? Why do I so often feel the need to entertain my children and plan to the enth degree instead of letting them find things for themselves to do?

I believe it's because I really loathe disorder. I hate it when the kids are tearing through the house and getting all kinds of stuff out. It's easier for me to take them out and/or plan, plan, plan. Planning is not a bad thing, but I really do think it can be detrimental to their ability to be creative and think of things for themselves to do.

Today, I cut out tv because I felt like it was affecting their behavior negatively. So, here we are at 12:00 p.m. with no tv, no stimulation and no mom trying to direct their activities. What does it look like? Well, Dynamite is downstairs playing with his trains. Cindy-lou Who is making greeting cards and Super-boy is sitting on the couch next to the radio with a big smile on his face listening to Disney songs. And I'm blogging.

It's a pretty picture, one I'd like to re-create...but without creating it, if you get my drift.

Can you share your experience with me as far as what is a healthy balance in planning/not planning activities for your kids? How often do you plan a big outing (i.e. zoo, science center, etc.)? How capable do you think your kids are of thinking of things to do without your assistance?

Thanks for your responses!

Kindergarten Quandaries

I don't really remember much about kindergarten, but it seems that it was playing with blocks, learning the abc's and more of a glorified playtime. I don't remember social pressure, girls picking on each other and feeling anxious about school. Now, that's not to say it didn't happen, but I sure don't remember it. Cindy-Lou Who has begun to feel anxious lately about the school that she once loved so much. The other day, she was very insistent that she didn't want to go to school and was drumming up a pretty convincing cough. Dh said, "It's kindergarten--let her take the day off". Later in the day, I asked her if something was bothering her that made her feel like she didn't want to go to school. She burst in to tears and said she missed a problem on her math test. I explained to her that school is about learning, not perfection. We had a "heart to heart" and with that, she was ready to return the next day. After school the following day, I asked, "How was school?". Again, her eyes filled with tears as she explained that some of the girls told her they wouldn't be her friend anymore if she didn't spend her free time making invitations for a production they were putting together. "Mom, I just wanted a break!" she sobbed. My heart ached for her, understanding the desire to do your own thing, but also wanting to be accepted by others. This scenario with the other girls went on for a couple of weeks before I finally talked to her teacher, who was very encouraging and understanding. The teacher gave Cindy-Lou Who a "Jesus necklace" and told her whenever she feels nervous or shy, to squeeze the necklace and say, "Jesus, keep me strong and safe". (This makes the money that we spend on a christian education well worth-while). She also called a meeting with the girls in the class to talk to them about how hurtful exclusion is and encouraged them to be kind to one another. Unfortunately, that did not discourage the negative behavior. After a couple more days, I decided to talk to one of the parents. I basically said, "These girls are going to be in school together for the next 8 years; how can we remedy this situation?". The father was very receptive and even talked to me later to tell me he had addressed the situation at home. Thanks, dad. At first, my husband had said, "Don't say anything; let them work it out". But that got me to thinking...how often do we do that with our kids without giving them the tools to actually work it out? Do 5 and 6-year olds really know how to work it out? I don't think that they do. I think they need a lot of guidance and an example of parents sticking together and showing them how to problem solve. My hope for my kids as they're learning to interact socially is that they will feel safe, secure and loved. It is also that they will be able to trust the adults around them to make that happen. When a child is learning to tie his shoes for the first time, you don't just toss a shoe at him and say, "Figure it out". You sit down with him, instruct him, possibly teach him a song...it could take weeks, or even months to master this skill. It is the same with problem-solving and social skills. And with that, I will say that I'm lucky to have my kids go to school with other kids who have such great parents. I hope that if we work as a team, our kids will build life-long healthy relationships. Throw in a Jesus necklace and lots of prayers, and I think we'll be on the right track.

Scrapbooking, sickness and other miscellaneous items...

I know this sounds like a shameless plea for sympathy, but it is what it is in the Shriver house today.

The kids have all been battling sore throats, sinus infections and the like over the last couple of weeks. Well, today I woke up feeling hot and vomiting. Ugh. I kept Super-boy home from school because he had a nasty cough and I didn't think anyone would appreciate me sending him. Cindy-Lou Who only has half day kindergarten and Dynamite was in rare form with his climbing expeditions today.

All that to say: it really stinks to be sick with three kids at home. Just because you're laid up on the couch with a throbbing headache, the kids are still making demands like food and water and the ever-present, "Mom, I'm bored, what can I do?". Whenever they ask me this, I tell them they better think of something fast or I'll give them something to do that they won't like, i.e. vacuuming, writing practice, etc.

So, yes, right now things are not that great. However, Saturday, I went to an all-day scrapping event that was a blast! Now, I am not a scrapper. I have an album done for Super-boy's first year and an almost completed one for Cindy-Lou Who's first year (mind you, they are 8 and 6!). I have nothing yet for Dynamite (#3 always gets the shaft. My hope is that I'll be able to complete one for him before #4 arrives). What I decided to do is order my pictures from the beginning of 2011 and start there as not to feel overwhelmed.

It was a day of non-interruptions and great conversation. I think I may need to become an avid scrapbooker just for the days of respite I might be able to secure. And quite honestly, it felt really good to complete something, albeit individual album pages, without jumping up a hundred times shouting, "What was that????".

On Sunday, dh shocked me by saying that he thought the time out for me was really good and he'd like me to try to get away once a weekend! Wow! I told him I would be thrilled for a few hours once a month!

Well, nothing special today. Just some ramblings about what's going on over here. Oh, and for those of you who've been keeping up with the dryer situation, I have a working dryer and my basement is almost halfway finished (and somewhat usable, to my great delight).

This post has me thinking about survival techniques of all of you busy women out there. What do you incorporate in to your days/weeks that are a must for you? These things should rejuvenate, not deplete you. I'd love to hear your feedback!

I hope you all are doing great.