checking in

You may have noticed that I have slowed down posting to this blog, a by product of the pace I've been keeping and all the balls I am trying to keep in the air simultaneously.

I've learned to recognize certain behaviors in myself when life hits fever pitch, here are a few things that I tend to do:

1. write less (never a good thing)

2. read less (probably worse than writing less)

3. my mind is always one step ahead of where it should be creating a persistent feeling of pressure and feeling behind

4. my kids are not nearly as entertaining to me when things are super busy

5. less time spent with the doc

6. the house reflects my generalized neglect of my surroundings

7. inevitably I hit critical mass and my motivation swings in the opposite direction, so...

8. I transition into this space of neglecting the important things and opt for a marathon viewing of Wallander

9. I avoid responsibilities and spend too much time on Facebook

10. I pull out my sketchbook and pencils instead of completing an important project that has a looming deadline

Crazy no? At first I dive right in to what must be done, but I don't come up for air enough. When I finally reach exhaustion and come up for air, I avoid diving back in....until I am once again overwhelmed with the pressure and the diving gear goes back on. This cycle is easily tagged as #insanity

I need desperately to develop the skills to balance all that is going on: end of the school year, work, book writing, new business venture, kids, home and oh yea, the cross country move coming up in 3 weeks.

I need to learn to better pace myself for a longer haul versus overkill and exhaustion. Balance the must do's with a reasonable sprinkling of saw sharpening activities like:

• reading books inside living room forts
• writing
• drawing
• running
• cooking
• long conversations with the kids and the doc
• movies
• etc. etc.

My hope is to begin working on this balance over this long, holiday weekend-

I hope your weekend is filled with fun and enjoyment!

Love,

Amelia

guilty mom confession #1

We all know that the way moms manage their first baby is generally much different than our handling of our last baby. You hear jokes about the numbers of photo albums needed to capture all of the images of baby 1 while you're just grateful someone remembered to bring a camera along for baby 3,4,5,6 or whichever numbered child.

It's true for most moms and it is certainly true for me. When my oldest was a baby I honestly sterilized everything....literally. If you had come over to visit there is a reasonably good chance you would have been Lysoled from head to toe before you set your purse down. If she dropped her pacifier on the floor, a freshly sterilized one was produced while the germ infested dirty one was placed in the sterilizer.  My floors were spotless and I'd rush to scoop up any trace of crumbs etc on the floor to prevent her from putting things in her mouth. If blogging had been around "back in those days" I would have been a product ambassador for Clorox.

Fast forward 20 years and well, things have changed. I'm much more relaxed (well, I tell myself that it's possible that I'm just older and more tired). When my youngest was using a bottle they would generally go through the dishwasher with the rest of the dishes...or if all the bottles were dirty well then I'd grab a dirty one and give it a good rinse and we're set. The numbers of cans of Lysol under the counter slowly returned to what would be considered "normal". The floors....well, let's just say they were cleaned...when they needed to be (and the definition of "needed to be" varied from week to week). There was a time when the idea of a cheerio being eaten off the floor would send me into gasps of shock at the very thought! Now, there's a cheerio on the floor, it's only been there a day or two, you're good, go ahead and feast.

The girl in this picture led a sterile childhood....the boy....not so much ;)

you.get.the.point.

For the most part the gradual erosion of my intense need to maintain a germ free environment has freed me up to enjoy life more. With age I've learned to prioritize and to pick my battles. The good news is, no baby was harmed in the making of this life of ours by my diminishing need to sterilize animate and inanimate objects and the loosening of rigid routines.

But....there is one ball I have dropped that has truly bothered me. Unlike my other children my youngest boy, who is now 4 1/2 years old, cannot read. But it's more than that, he doesn't know the letter A from the number 1, 2 or 3. I don't even have a good excuse for this other than to tell you that since becoming significantly out numbered by my children some days are a matter of survival. They are clean and fed and loved....whew...we've had a successful day then. Some days we're more into playing, walking, riding, going, doing.

Now, here's the tragic part of this, he will begin K-4 in the fall and I feel like I need to get him to the point where he can read by then or........ I will be judged, or worse, he'll be labeled as being "behind" or compared to the other 4 year old's in his class.  Gulp.....Can I just say that the idea of this sucks...suckity, suck suck. Some days these concerns prompt me to pull out all of the Hooked on Phonics and begin in earnest other days I find myself thinking "crap, if the pressure begins at 4 to hit certain benchmarks or risk labels and comparisons, then this life is going to be long and stressful." Clearly I am not a Tiger Mom. So, I ride this constant line between guilt and feeling pressure to push him hard to learn to read and this desire to shrug it off and trust that he will learn to read....in time....until then, we'll enjoy our days.

Notice the name of this post is numbered....I'm planning ahead since it is very likely this will not be the last confession I make here ;)

not every morning is unicorns and rainbows

Most days I wake in the morning, happy to greet the day. I feel grateful as I begin my morning routine.  A hot breakfast is prepared with love and I’m aware of my blessings in every fiber of my being.

Then there are those morning,……the mornings I wake, dragging myself out of bed grumbling about the day ahead. I carry on as if the challenges of the day create a unique brand of suffering, just for me. For unknown reasons my thoughts get wrapped around some offense from the day before – I suppose I need some excuse to couch my mood in- I’m not thinking clearly enough yet to implement any tools for turning my mood around- I’m too busy wallowing in it.

I rummage through cupboards for brightly colored cereal boxes. Bowls, spoons, cereal and milk are placed on the table briefly before little hands begin grabbing. No need to wake them, they were up before dawn. An entertaining fantasy crosses my mind “one day when they are teens wanting to sleep in, I’ll wake them before dawn with a chore list” A slight grin tugs at the corners of my drawn lips. Unphased by my mood they delight in the autonomy of preparing their own breakfast.

I grope the cupboards for a coffee cup- wondering if it is possible to main line this dark liquid life force that makes my day possible.  I grip my coffee cup with eyes closed and take my first sip – my first sign that things will be ok- that first cup is like meditation, it’s centering. I should have gotten up when my alarm sounded, it’s always better to have the first cup before everyone wakes but I had been too tired to get up.

I shuffle to my office certain that the music from Kick Buttowski will send me over the edge- I hear muffled waves of laughter coming through cereal stuffed mouths. “I’ll never understand why they love that show so much.”

I know I’m grumpy and I don’t have a good reason to be. I don’t know why these occasional mornings make their wake into the routine. All I know is that most mornings I feel my blessings upon waking....most, not all.

I know that regardless I will face each day whether I'm happy about it or not. I know that this makes me real whether it’s admirable or not. I also know whether the mood follows me throughout the balance of my day is a choice that I get to make....the coffee kicks in 

happy birthday to this man-o-mine

Today is my husbands birthday! So, I thought I'd share an abbreviated list of reasons that I'm glad he was born, why I love him so  and generally why I think he is the shiznit, the bomb diggity,  phat, tight, off da heezy fo' sheezy, the bee's knees, the cats pajamas's and any other hip (or otherwise) expression that fits here :)

1. you helped make some g.o.r.g.e.o.u.s. children (inside and out)

2. you possess an amazing capacity to forgive others, truly, your willingness to forgive and turn the other cheek is unrivaled by anyone I know

3. I love that you will stop traffic to help a confused chicken cross the street (next time that happens, go ahead and ask that age old question,  why is he crossing the street?)

4. I love the way you routinely check in with your older girls to let them know you love them and let them know you are proud of them

5. I love the way you will drop everything you are doing and give your attention to your girls when they need your help, whether it's a medical question, needing money, advice etc.

6. you're a rare breed when it comes to physicians, it's extraordinarily uncommon to find a doctor who shows such sincere empathy and doesn't rush the patient

7. the way you hold your mouth when you are playing guitar

8. while in the mountains, hiking with the kids, you're so eager to educate them on the names and medicinal value of the plants we encounter, despite the fact that most the time they aren't paying attention because they are chasing each other with poison ivy trying to test your claims

9. the musical education you have provided our kids will spare them the embarrassment of having to ask "Pink Floyd, who are they?" They are so versed in old school music that within the first few cords they can identify Metallica, Pink Floyd, Ozzy, Rush etc.

10. the fact that you are a doc automatically means you will have all of the tough conversations with our children related to bodily changes etc....you know "the talk" because you use anatomically correct language and they will take you serious while I turn beet red and still refer to it as a "tee-tee"

11. you love watching BBC with me

12. there is a place on your chest that seems to be custom made for my head

13. you make the 17th anniversary of your 29th birthday look good :)

14. you love me, even when I'm not being anything that remotely resembles loveable

15. the way you respond to any and all nicknames I have given you over the years...and there have been a lot

16. you're as big a nerd as I am

17. the way you love my bare face best

18. I love the fact that you get me

19. I love that we will call or text each other at the exact same time, we do this so often

20. I love that when you think about the future, we're there together

Happy Birthday, I love you to the moon and back!

mindreading and motherhood

Everyday that I pick my boy up after school, I bring a snack along for the ride home. You'd think we were traversing the state and nourishment were needed as a means of keeping him alive and alert, however, it's only 5-6 miles home. Try telling him that though. That boys stomach think his throats been cut everyday! I've learned from experience not to show up empty handed- unless I just want to subject myself to that particular brand of cruelty that is whining. This is the conversation that occurred recently upon loading him into his car seat:

 Shep: mom, do you got me a snack?

Me: why yes I do!

Shep: Really? (as if he is shocked!)

Me: you act surprised, I bring you a snack every day

Shep: I'm proud of you mom (patting me on the head as I lean over to buckle him in)

Me: well thank you son

Shep: what is it? what did you bring me?

Me: crackers

Shep: wait.....what? (heads drops in despair, voice drops to a whisper) but I wanted cheese

Me: oh, well I didn't know, how was I supposed to know you wanted cheese?

Shep: because....(in a slightly irritated voice) you're the mom!

Me: oh, so being a mom makes me a mind reader?

Shep: you didn't know that? (patting me on the shoulder)it's alright mom, you'll get it right tomorrow

And there you have it- apparently I'm a mind reader and just wasn't aware of it. Are you a mom? Well then, you're a mind reader too :)

Happy Monday!

you might be an addict if....

---

I recently accepted that I am an addict....my "drug of choice"? Candy Crush Saga

It is unnatural my draw to this game...my unending need to clear the current level to get to the next. This addiction has begun to impact varying areas of my life. They say the first step on the road to recovery is admitting the addiction, so I decided it was time to list the top signs that I've become addicted to this life sucking confection crushing nemesis. Perhaps this list can help you too....

The top 10 signs that  you might be addicted to Candy Crush Saga
1. when you dream about fruit and look for ways to combine 3,4 or five of a kind
2. when telling your children, after dinner, that it is time to clear the table you slip and tell them to "clear the jelly"
3. when you see a chocolate bar and instead of eating you, you crush it to bits much to the bewilderment of the CVS clerk
4. when you wake at 3am to pee and you quickly check to see if you have all 5 lives back yet
5. when you can't go back to sleep after checking on your lives without a quick go at the current level
6. when you use all 5 lives while playing on Facebook so you switch to your phone app
for 5 more lives
7. when you have used all of your Facebook and phone app lives so you move the date on your phone ahead a day to replenish your lives
8. when you realize that when you switched the date back on your phone, you now have 3,000 hours before you get more lives so you delete the app and re-install, garnering you another 5 lives
9. when people begin to "unfriend" you for begging them for more lives
10. when you spend more on buying lives and boosters than you did in filling your gas tank for the week

These are some of the warning signs that there may be a problem....if you do not relate to this, count your blessings. If you just read this and you're all like "heck yea, she just described me" then I invite you into my blanket fort...bring your game

vagaries of memory

Memories are the treasures that we keep locked deep within the storehouse of our souls, to keep our hearts warm when we are lonely.

~ Ritu Ghatourey

I’ve been reading through old journals lately, from more than a decade ago. It’s been an emotional experience for me, the truth? It’s kicking my ass.

These journals were written  during an extremely difficult time in my life.  I think it is safe to say that the landscape of my life then had been stripped of all pretenses , there had been withering in numerous areas of my life.  Even now as I type this and think back to those years I realize that to talk about my grief during that time I would need a new alphabet. It was a time when I had fallen asleep in both faith and hope and despair consumed me.

As I read through the pages I began to notice a recurring coping mechanism, one I’ve never identified or given much thought to. During exceedingly difficult times in my life I disappear into memories of happier times. My body remains present but my mind travels back in time, to happier days. This coping mechanism isn’t necessarily a bad thing, unless it becomes a substitute for reality, which it did.

I was no longer inhabiting the moments of my present life…this is otherwise known as denial.

The cost of such denial? Vagaries of memory.

Many of the memories I was making at the time were related to the joy I experienced reliving old memories.

Old happy memories were recycled to make new happy memories…consequently…

I have scattered recall of the details of what was actually going on in my life at the time, but I can recall exactly where I was sitting when I relived a memory from years previous.

I can’t be trusted to remember the specifics of how we actually passed time but I can recall with remarkable detail sitting on the back steps, staring at a line of ants marching along as I remembered the time when I had gotten sunburnt as a child while looking for sharks teeth at the beach. 

I had opted out of living in the present  to instead reliving my past. I don’t know if I have explained this very well or not but I will tell you this- it is an odd experience to feel as though you’ve lost years of memories.  It’s unnerving to have my husband or daughter recall something from this time period and experience the sensation of hearing it for the first time.  I don’t know where this leaves me except to say that I have to trust the memory of events from that time are there, I just have not found a way to unearth them.

I don’t actually know why I am telling you this other than to wonder if others have had a similar experience?

Fridays re cap

Wow, what a busy week! But, what's new...aren't they all busy? So my big plans of having some fun with the kids during their spring break were thwarted by a stomach virus :(

My family is a virus magnet...we can't seem to escape it. This one hit my youngest pretty hard, as a matter of fact, he is still sick :( Despite battling the crud we had some fun times. Here is a run down of what's been shaking this week:

* Melody and I are working on some amazingly cool ideas/projects/events etc over at The Studio Voice, if I could bottle the energy and momentum we are creating, then sell it- holy cash cow, I'd be set!

* Oh, and there is still time to submit to the spring issue, the theme is Live Out Loud which is an awesome theme because it is wide open- tell us how you are living out loud!

* Are you a fan of roller coasters? If so that's great, keep riding them so we can continue to laugh about it ;)

* Do you just love the dollar store? This will make you love it more

* Open letters to people or entities who are unlikely to respond.... enjoy :)

* And what are the odds of this?

* and finally, for your viewing pleasure.... What Makes Your Beautiful

I hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

XO

Amelia

remembering my father

Dear Daddy,

Your voice had been replaced by the sounds of sterile equipment - equipment that was now required to do the work that you could no longer do for yourself. The room was filled by the melodic sound of the pumping valves forcing oxygen into your lungs. Despite this, your strength was evident. It was 19 years ago that we lost you, yet it still feels like it was yesterday.

I remember you were frustrated, hurting- you made that clear when you scribbled that note to me “get my Swiss Army knife” then you motioned cutting the tubes and wires.

I suspect you had already gotten a glimpse of the kingdom and you were ok with letting go of this life. It was us who wouldn’t… or rather couldn't give up hope. Already you had fought a valiant fight, one that left even your physicians in awe.

You continued your fight, I’m sure for our sake- we needed you. And though you could no longer use your voice to speak, your eyes communicated that you understood.

You kept this pace for weeks- patiently you waited for us to arrive at a place of acceptance. Even your doctor had discerned the man you were and he fought tirelessly to keep you here, I think deep down he needed you to live, he needed to know you. However it was time for God’s will to be done.

I held your hand as the machines were turned off. The final stronghold that kept you tethered physically to this life. You held your own briefly. But your soul had been greeted and the angels had lovingly lifted your exhausted body. Their presence was felt as they gracefully carried you to be with our Father, your suffering now a distant memory. Your gentle spirit freed from the pain.

Your final breath took my breath away.

You are missed, deeply, and I am confident that you know this. But your legacy is alive and well. I now understand the hours you spent writing. The feeling cannot be described, only acted upon. The profound urge to capture in words what the soul feels cannot be ignored.

I am dependant upon images to fully capture and convey what is within me, I suspect you were too.

The lessons you taught, the examples you set, your gentle spirit and kindness have left an indelible mark on my heart. It’s as though you personally scribed “I was here” on my soul. Thank you.

Until we meet again, I will look for you in the words that I write, the images that I capture and in the faces of my children.

I love you,

Amelia

this letter to my father is published yearly as a tribute to him and the father he was

hello and a check in

Hello and happy Monday! I hope your Easter weekend was wonderful. I wanted to check in with you before I get busy with the kids being on spring break and give you the run down on how life's shakin'

1. we've been watching a lot of movies lately, Lincoln was great (but long, I fell asleep twice while watching, woke up and still knew what was going on) Killing Them Softly will not leave you with any warm fuzzies nor does it offer a valuable take away lesson. It's only real redeeming quality was Brad Pitt.

2. I've been compiling a whole lot of memories as I begin the initial stages of writing a book (this project has been such a long time coming that I'm almost reluctant to type it out loud- I start to feel all superstitious and weird stuff like that

3. the over arching feeling lately has been "holy crap, what if I suck as a writer and the entire world lines up on Amazon to tell me?" I've been coping with those concerns with the help of two gentlemen friends, Ben & Jerry and by reminding myself that doubt is not a fault, but an opportunity

4. I've been a little out of sorts lately, stretching my multi tasking skills to their limits- I liken it to stretching a rubber band, you can stretch it and stretch it and it will accommodate the demands placed on it....until it doesn't, then it snaps. I don't want to get to that point, so I'm trying to stay very aware of this concern

5. have you ever read a quote and thought "wow, that was written for me, the Universe served that up to me at just the right time!" but you can read the very same quote the next day and feel all "oh shut up, whatever, I'm so sick and tired of the feel good crap, seize the day my ass" .... do you ever do that?  I've come to the conclusion that some days I'm fit for public consumption, other days not so much

6. I'm hoping to get reacquainted with my DSLR this week - going to need to dust it off first

7. I'll be going to Vegas the second week of April to present at a conference and I'm already preparing for that. It's funny how when dad goes out of town he's all like "see ya in a few days honey" and that's the extent of his planning. Mom goes out of town for a few days and it's a mad scramble to plan/prepare meals, label them in Tupperware, set out the kids clothes for each day you're gone, alert the teachers that you won't be there and who will be picking them up, putting extra food in the pet dish anticipating they'll forget to feed them, writing out the day/evening schedule and posting it to the refrigerator all while consoling the children and reassuring them it's only 48 hours, they'll survive (and hope you're not lying to them ;))

8. embracing the mantra "don't just do something, stand there"  as I look forward to making some memories with my little ones on their spring break, their last in the desert before we once again head out of the Grand Canyon state

My life is busy, that's for sure...but it's a good life and I hope to never lose sight of that truth