Resolutions

Here we are again in January and let's just say I have become really good over the past couple months at making excuses for not making my fitness a priority. In search of motivation, I joined an online program called Run the Year 2017 at the gentle urging of my amazing sister. I signed up last night, determined to get myself moving and immediately the Universe started to conspire against me with the arrival of Central Texas winter and a most unwelcome monthly visitor. Well, welcome in the sense that it means I am not going to give birth again...unwelcome in every other sense. Anyway, after a night of restless sleep I woke up on Day 1 of my Run the Year 2017 feeling as though I hadn't eaten in a week and needed to put on three pairs of socks. A cup and 1/2 of coffee and a slice of cranberry pistachio toast later, I started thinking... 

Shoulder Potato on my right: "What are you doing? It is freezing out there! You are losing enough blood from your uterus to film a battle scene from Braveheart! You don't really have the right clothes for running in this weather. Stay here. It is warm. There is coffee. And snacks. And soft blankets. And Netflix. You are already 7 days behind...what's one more?" 

Shoulder Guru on my left: "You are already 7 days behind! Do you really want to look at that screen with the '0 miles toward your goal' message again? I don't think you do. No more excuses. No time like the present! Just Do It. Woman up! Make it so! Onward and upward. Go, you must. Si, se puede! Go forth and prosper! Friends don't lie...er...ok, that last one didn't really make sense, but I am running out of motivational pop culture references to whisper in your ear. Don't make me raise my voice."

Fine! I got up, put on my base layer and my hoodie, my warm fuzzy tights and my stretchy running pants, a super-duper XXL tampon and overnight pad for insurance, socks, running shoes, my second hand SAFD beanie hat (because creating an illusion in order to keep people from messing with you is an acceptable form of deceit, right?) and out the door I went. 

It was a glorious day, empty branches against bright blue skies. I headed away from the house...

Shoulder Potato: "You should just do laps around the block, that way you can stop if it is too cold or you get too tired or hungry."

Shoulder Guru: "Absolutely not. Walk to the duck pond...it is 1.5 miles away, so you will have to walk 1.5 miles back. That is at least 3 miles right there, and you can throw in a few laps around the pond for good measure."

Sigh. Ok. Duck pond. Go. 

I started at a jog, which soon turned to a fast walk. It really was a beautifully invigorating weather day and the roads were quiet. The pond was serene, the only company I had was a pair of Egyptian geese guarding their eggs and the grand old cypress trees guarding the water's edge. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. This feels good. No more excuses. 

from Railroad Wings by Patty Griffin

"And as far as I can tell, most everything means nothin',
except some things, that mean everything..."

I've listened to this song about 100 times now and this line finally stuck out the other day. It is the simple truth and when you find the things that mean everything, you'll know. After that, it's just a matter of being honest enough with yourself to let go of the rest.

Ocean View

It is amazing to me how simply standing by the ocean can put things into perspective. Not only are we reminded of how very small we are, but at the same time of how very big the impact of our actions can be.

Melting Pot

My father is turning 80 this August and as part of his gift, my sister and I have been working on a family photo/history project. As a result, I've spent a substantial amount of time today on an amazing site...EllisIsland.org...where one can search relatives that came to America through Ellis Island in the late 1800's-early 1900's. I may be a bit wierd when it comes to this stuff, but looking at copies of ship manifests and seeing the names of my ancestors in print sent shivers down my spine. It is really impossible for me to imagine what they were thinking and feeling when they arrived here from Southern Italy full of youth, hopes, and imaginings of the American Dream. From what I hear and read, the conditions on those ships left something to be desired and leaving family behind in a culture that is built upon it, must have taken some kind of conviction that I'm not sure I possess. (BTW, the ship manifest also contains passenger's answers to questions like: "Are you a polygamist? and "Are you an anarchist?"...when I realized this, I scoured several documents looking for a "yes" answer to either of those questions and never found one...hmmm.)

What really astounds me, though, are the sheer numbers of people listed on any given day. Even looking up just one last name resulted in pages of entries. Immigrants all. As I gazed at the list of names on the same page as my grandmother's, I couldn't help but wonder how many of them were going to be reunited with spouses that had preceeded them on the journey in order to establish themselves and start earning a living wage as my grandfather had. I wondered how many would go on to learn English from radio shows and comic books as my grandparents did. I wondered how many of them might be coming to America expecting an easy ride. I wondered how many of them prospered and how many failed. Mostly, though, I wondered where America would be without them.
Europa...the ship that brought my grandmother to America

SAHM

I have been a stay at home mother for 6 years now and while there have been a handful of those "I wouldn't miss this for the world" moments, for the most part it has been hellish. Now, don't get me wrong, I have two wonderful girls and wouldn't trade them in for the world. The past six years have taught me invaluable lessons and seeing things through a child's eyes brings so much clarity to the confusion and chaos that is life. The problem is that I have had this constant internal struggle to avoid defining myself solely as a mother. I fear losing myself, the things I stand for and the dreams I have not yet accomplished. Sometimes, when people say to me, "you are so lucky that you can stay home with your kids", I want to scream. I understand the comment, but honestly luck has nothing to do with it...sacrifice, hard work and a very tight budget is what it amounts to. I don't always feel lucky, either...and most days I'm not sure that my kids are so lucky to have me around 24-7.
What I have found out, is that when I am away from them-even for a few hours a day, I am a much better Mother. We miss each other and we appreciate each other more, which makes it easier to give 100%. Maybe it should not be that way. Maybe I should not need to have a purpose outside the household in order to feel good about my purpose in it. But I do.

Here's a snippit from a CNN article quoting Salary.com on what stay at home mothers are worth...
The typical mother puts in a 92-hour work week, the company concluded, and works at least 10 jobs. In order of hours spent on them per week, these are: housekeeper, day-care center teacher, cook, computer operator, laundry machine operator, janitor, facilities manager, van driver, chief executive officer and psychologist. By figuring out the median salaries for each position, and calculating the average number of hours worked at each, the firm came up with $138,095 -- three percent higher than last year's results.

Hmmm...perhaps $138,095/year would be purpose enough?

the tube

I have decided to try something new. It has been rather difficult lately to find the time and inspiration to sit at the computer(or anywhere else for that matter) and write. My fear that I would abandon my blog and never return to posting on a somewhat regular basis led me to one of my favorite sites, The Quotations Page. I've decided that when material is hard to come by, I will pick a quote that speaks to me and write about that...so here is the quote for today:
"I hate television. I hate it as much as I hate peanuts. But I can't stop eating peanuts."-Orson Welles

This one made me laugh out loud and I'm sure that if my husband and daughter (both of whom I am constantly reminding of the need to "kill our television") knew that I was writing this, it would send them both into hysterical fits. I have often wondered why it is, despite the fact I have threatened more than once to throw our television into the street, that whenever I have the house to myself the first thing I do is grab a blanket, head for the couch and grab the remote. The quote by Orson Welles holds the answer. I hate television for the same reasons I crave it...it is a mindless addiction. I don't particularly like peanuts, but put a bowl in front of me and I will eat them...because...they are there...and they are salty, and crunchy and they are there. Likewise with the tv.
It may not be salty and crunchy, but worse, it requires no energy on the part of the watcher(I don't count pushing buttons on the remote), the programming is filled with escapism of every kind, including watching other people's "reality", the choices are seemingly endless and the news channels...oy, don't even get me started. It seems to me we have built an empire on turning one person's misery into everyone else's entertainment.

Of course I realize that balance is the key, as it is with everything else. I don't crave television at the beginning of my day, when I am full of energy and would much rather read, exercise, go outside or play games with my kids. It is only after I spend a full day trying to convince the other members of my family that they need to be doing those things instead of watching tv, that I feel the craving for the mind-numbing properties of that shiny silver box. Then, when I wake up with a tv hangover from falling asleep on the couch in front of cheap entertainment, I regret the headache, the irritated eyes and most of all, the time that's been wasted that I will never get back.

Time Flies

Wow, I've been trying to get back here for a while...life sometimes gets in the way of life, if you know what I mean. Most of you know that my youngest daughter broke her leg in a playground accident and was in the hospital for two weeks. We are home now and on week three of the spica body cast...which has to rank in the top 10 most cruel contraptions ever created by man. (OK, maybe it is only in the top 50, but still.) I have hesitated to write about the experience only because it has been very difficult to find the positives in all of it and I don't want the blog to turn into an avenue for negativity.
So, rather than rant on about the inefficiencies of the health care system in this country and the trials of diaper changing and rash care in a body cast, I have found a couple of happier thoughts on which to focus. The first being taking healthy risks and the second being finding out who is truly in your corner.
I've never been much of a risk-taker. In fact, as my sister pointed out, the idea of risking anything at all was never particularly encouraged while we were growing up. We were somewhat "sheltered", for lack of a better word and I owe that to nothing more than my parents trying to do the best they could by us with what they had...financially, emotionally, spiritually.
My last year of high school and my college years ended up being one experiment in risk after another as a form of rebellion and self-expression...sometimes the payoff was good and sometimes not so good, but there was always a payoff. In more recent years, as I have tried to embrace a more Buddhist philosophy, I realize that all experiences are learning experiences just as everyone we meet is a teacher. Even if the only thing we learn by risking something is to NEVER EVER risk it again, we have still grown as human beings and are better for knowing it.
So, what does all of this have to do with the past few weeks? Everything, really. When I was sitting in the hospital room feeling horribly guilty for letting my 2 year old climb on mini-monkey bars while I stood less than arms-distance away, my incredibly wise sister said to me that letting our children take reasonable risks was a good thing. This made so much sense to me as I thought about how much joy Chloe had experienced playing on those silly bars...it was the first structure she'd run to on the playground every day. She had so much confidence and pride in her ability to hang by her hands from a bar no more than four feet off the ground and one day she let go a little early and she fell in an awkward position and she broke her leg. She is healing and she can't wait to get her big bandaid off so that she can ride her own bike(as she said the other day while watching her older sister biking down our street). Who am I to take that away from her? The next time we are on a playground and she wants to play on the monkey bars am I going to have a panic attack? Probably. But that is mine to deal with, not hers. So, what is the point of all of this? Sometimes taking a risk lands you in the job of your dreams and sometimes it lands you in a hot-pink body cast...either way it's a learning experience.


Wow, I didn't really mean to ramble on so much on that first point. I hardly feel like I have the energy to move on to the second...finding out who is truly in your corner. I'll make it short, then. Pain, suffering, financial problems, emotional trauma...all these things are relative. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that there are many people in the world for whom having their child in the hospital for two weeks and then home in a body cast for four would seem like a blessing in comparison to their current reality. I never lose sight of that fact and yet still there are times when I feel like my world is crumbling around me. The past few weeks, I have been blessed in ways I never expected and by people whom I thought the least likely to lend a hand.
I have learned something about community, friendship and family and I have definitely been inspired by people who know what it means to "live" their Christian values rather than just talk about them. I started writing thank you cards to all the people who have touched my soul in a positive way this past month or two and it was overwhelming. When I offered to reciprocate a favor for one woman who had been particularly helpful, she said, "Just pay it forward." That, then, is what I shall do.