Seashell Nails

One of my co-workers recently said, "We all have the same amount of time. Each of us has the same amount of time as Bill Gates, but we all choose to use it differently." Yes, we all have the same amount of time in a day, a week, a month, or a year; but, how we fill that time is unique to our lives. I choose to fill my time with my full-time day job, volunteering opportunities at my children's school, teaching swim lessons, writing, and reading mostly.

Tonight, though, I let my daughter lead the way. She's already a high-maintenance kiddo at eight years old and loves the opportunity to get her nails painted, but she likes even more painting my nails. Several years ago she found some pink nail polish and I allowed her to paint my nails. I had finger nail polish all the way to my knuckle, but she was proud - and I showed it off on Facebook. This evening, she went all out for the experience of having a spa-like treatment at home. The petite little girl carried a bucket of hot water from our bathtub to the living room so that I could soak my feet while she painted my fingernails! Her attention to an ABC pattern was extreme and of course rounded out my nails with sparkles.

Her engagement in making me feel like a princess was wonderful - aside from her throwing my book on the ground (I thought we were just doing toes). I sat and relaxed while she attended to my fingers and my toes and I focused only on my breath while cherishing her willingness to create a special bond between us. Then it was my turn to paint her fingers and toes. And it was her idea to match. :)

Sometimes, I get wrapped up in the horrible things I have going on - stress at work, trying to sell a house, having a swollen optic nerve, and fighting a chesty (is that even a word to describe it?!) illness for a month - that I forget to appreciate the small, ordinary things I can do with my kids. But tonight I remembered to slow down. I remembered the mom that I wanted to be and the reason that I became a mom and we relaxed together to the tun of what we decided were "seashell nails."

You're Looking Skinny

I was working on my #ThisIsUs blog post on Monday, but had to walk away because I couldn't figure out how to combine everything I wanted to say together. Tonight, I deleted some information and decided that it was time to start a new post. The words that I wrote about how I related to Kate seemed to stand on their own and open up doors for new posts.

Yesterday, I was walking down the hall at work when one of my co-workers said, "You're Looking Skinny." I am definitely not skinny by any sense of the word, but I have lost more than 25 pounds since the beginning of the year.

Up until yesterday, I really didn't think anyone noticed. I really didn't think that it was any more visible than Kate's monologue about losing forty pounds without a fad diet or pills. I was feeling like it was invisible - my efforts, but with that small acknowledgement it gives me hope that I can continue a slow and steady journey to better health.

Are you on a journey to better health? Leave a comment with what you're doing to take control and be healthier.

This Is Us

Last week in my misery, I did get some quality time with Hulu. I watched the full first season of The Resident, and watched the season premieres of This Is Us and The Good Doctor. In my busyness of being a mom, working two jobs (one full-time and one very part-time), writing, and volunteering, I have few occasions to veg out and binge watch television, but when you can't breathe and talk for more than two sentences, watching TV becomes almost as attractive as sleep.

I absolutely love This Is Us. Maybe it is because Kate, Randall, and Kevin are in their mid-thirties so their life experiences are my life experiences. Maybe it is because Jack and Rebecca have a fabulous love story. Or maybe it is because it is just a well-written script and it pulls you in. But, in all reality, it is probably because I identify with Kate.

Spoiler Alert: I will be giving things away about the first episode of season 3, so read on with caution.

Season 3 begins at the end of Kate and Toby's wedding, fast-forwards to throwing out pregnancy tests that say "Not Pregnant" and a visit to the doctor's office where Kate is told she has PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome). Unlike Kate, I never was diagnosed with PCOS, but like Kate, I was told that my weight was likely causing my infertility problems. Like Kate, I have never been small. Like Kate, I had a miscarriage with my first pregnancy. Unlike Kate, I never considered IVF, but like Kate, I sat across from doctors that said, "at your BMI, a pregnancy is likely to be unsuccessful." And also like Kate, I walked out of doctors' offices in tears.

At her birthday brunch, Kate blows out the candles, tells everyone her wish for a baby and then breaks down and says, "Do you know that I've lost 40 pounds? Yep, slow and steady, no fad diets, no pills, no slip ups." Then Kate describes how hard it is to be positive, how hard it is to not give up, and how hard it is to never feel like you have a break.

As a person who has been labeled obese my whole life, I look at the medical community that is trying to be empathetic and say, "I know this isn't what you want to hear," or "I know hard it is to cook healthy meals," and think in what flipping universe do you know what it is like to be me, a person who has never been thin? So, like Kate, I have walked out of doctor's visits wondering when is the universe going to cut me a break.

The Reason We Have a Kitten Is Because I'm So Sick of Poop!

Let's talk about poop. I know, everyone poops, right? There's even a book called, Everyone Poops by Taro Gomi. But, I am sick of dealing with poop. Apparently a common side effect of having ADHD and potty training is not being able to use the toilet consistently. So, although my daughter has been potty trained for quite some time, she has always struggled with pooping.

I blame myself, because I pushed her to potty train - but, the reality is that children with ADHD often struggle with potty training and she is no exception to this. She really struggles to end a task that she is engaged with and move to a less pleasant task like going to the toilet. So we've been through the addition of Miralax, Pedia-lax, prune juice, an increase in fruits and vegetables, and she still fought constipation.

We've been seeing the GI specialists since she was 3 - and for five years it didn't get a whole lot better. In June, I agreed to see the child psych clinic at the University of Iowa. Three visits later, we have a plan that is working - and a kitten.

I was desperate and a long-term bribe seemed like the way to go - so we set a goal of sitting on the toilet and attempting to poop to earn a trip to the animal shelter to pick out a kitten. I started out with a simple, achievable goal - one that already was happening - she had to sit on the toilet when she woke up and she would earn a check mark toward the addition of a kitten. The next two weeks would add in an additional time where she needed to sit on the toilet, and the last week would have a third time where she needed to sit on the toilet, but the resistance was strong! She is extremely stubborn - and she DID NOT WANT TO SIT ON THE TOILET. But she really wanted a kitten, and even that was not enough to get her to sit on the toilet consistently.

At our second child psych visit, the child psychologist showed us an enhanced toilet training technique: hold in your poop, play for 2 minutes, push out for 2 minutes. She also encouraged us to really focus on sitting on the toilet after dinner - since this is when our brain will most likely want to release the excess waste. It required a lot of my attention. It required coaxing, coaching, and being extremely positive about all of my daughter's attempts. But it worked!

In two weeks, one of extreme illness on my part, my daughter has only had one accident where she pooped her pants - and has not been constipated since she's pooped nearly everyday. I know that most parents of eight-year-olds do not have to worry about their child still having poop accidents, but if you are struggling with your child who has ADHD and using the toilet - please know that you're not alone and there is hope.

Princess Zoom Zoom

Introducing Princess Zoom Zoom - the newest addition to our family. She is a sweet 8 week old kitten that we adopted from the local animal shelter. The next post will explain the reason we adopted a kitten.

Pneumonia

Last week, I was diagnosed with bronchitis. This week I have pneumonia. I'm on day 4 of a very powerful antibiotic used specifically to treat pneumonia. I already had vacation planned for Thursday and Friday this week with no real vacation, but was hoping to do things like purge the clothes that don't fit anymore and work on my writing. My goal is that by June 30, 2019 I can launch a freelance writing career that actually pays close to or more than I currently bring home, but I will miss students. 

I hate disappointing my students, the schools I work with, and my colleagues - so I tried to power through the bronchitis on Monday. After 2.5 hours of teaching and having someone tell me that I sure didn't sound better, I called my doctor's office. I also left for the day taking my laptop with me knowing that I could at least respond to some emails while I was out if at all possible.

My doctor's office called me back and ordered a chest x-ray. I transported myself to the hospital and got the x-ray accomplished at 3:30 and right before 5 PM the doctor's office called me back and confirmed pneumonia. Thankfully, I was able to start the Levaquin immediately and was told to stay home Tuesday and Wednesday also. 

For those of you who have never had pneumonia, I hope you never get it. It makes the simplest tasks really hard to do. Things like standing in the shower took all my energy - and reading to my kids was a huge task. I made it through one book last night before I powered down my voice. It's incredibly hard to speak when you're fighting pneumonia. 

I'm glad to know that my children love listening to me read and that it is an important part of our nightly ritual, but I am equally as frustrated that they only want me! Their dad can read to them too, but mom does the voices. Mom says yes to reading the same story over and over and over - even when I don't want to.

Thankfully, I feel slightly better. I mean, I feel human again - but I won't be running a marathon anytime soon (and the reality is that I wouldn't have anyway).

My Story - The Reason I Am Pro-Choice- Part 3

This is part 3 of my pro-choice series. I again preface this with I am not here to change you from pro-life to pro-choice, but I am here to tell you my story - and why I believe the most critical decisions that you make regarding life and death should be between you and your doctor. You can read part 1 here and part 2 here.

There was nothing highly remarkable about my day on July 7th, 2012. It was a pretty low-key day where I was packing up my kitchen and preparing, in general, for our upcoming move. The move was scheduled for Friday, July 20th and my dad volunteered on that fateful Saturday to come help with maintenance and packing while my stepmom visited the outlet mall. I remember that it was sunny. I remember carefully climbing on the step-stool to hang up the curtains that I had washed. I remember taking breaks and resting before I felt like I was overdoing it. I remember feeling very normal for a woman thirty weeks pregnant. I don't remember exactly when my dad and stepmom left my house, but I remember being alone with the dog for the evening and retreating to bed.

My husband and daughter were at a family wedding with my husband's parents three hours away. I missed my daughter a great deal, but the wedding was in the evening - so I didn't get to say good night to her. I pulled on my blue and gray pajamas and crawled into bed about 9 PM. I may have read or watched TV, but I honestly don't recall exactly what I did that night before I fell asleep. I do remember that it was the middle of the night when I woke up feeling awful. The distance from my bed to the bathroom was not great, as it was only across the living room, but the pain that I felt was immense. I vomited. I had diarrhea. I had a massive pain in my upper right side - right under my breast and high in the rib cage. I focused on breathing - and made my way to the kitchen where I kept the blood pressure monitor.

My stepmom encouraged me to take blood pressure readings daily - and I did. I took them upon waking most mornings and for the most part, the readings weren't of concern - until June and that's when they started going up. That night I sat at the kitchen table, pulled the cuff on my wrist, and pushed the start button. The reading was high. It was so high I was scared, but I was alone. I said a silent prayer, "Please don't let anything happen to me. I know that I'm not a good Christian, but my daughter needs me. If the baby has to die, I will be okay, but my daughter needs me." I pleaded with God to keep me safe for the time being - and I needed to lie back down. So I did.

When I woke up, I was hoping that it had all been a bad dream. I hoped that I hadn't really woken up in the night and I just had a very real, very scary nightmare. But - I didn't. I had a very real, very intense night and knew that I should call Labor and Delivery to find out if they wanted to see me. The call went something like this, "Labor and Delivery, may I help you?"

"I am not feeling the baby move as much and I am having some problems with my vision."

"If you're concerned, you can come in and we can hook the monitor up to you." The woman on the other end had no concern at all in her voice. It was matter-of-fact. It made me feel like I was overreacting. I did not rush in getting to the hospital, but I also did not wait for my husband and daughter to get home.

I simply said, "Okay." I had no one to take me to the hospital. Everyone that I knew was either gone for the weekend, had kids at home that couldn't be left, or had a high probability of not being sober. I drove to the convenience store and got a Gatorade. It was fruit punch flavored. Then I drove myself to the hospital. I took the back road. It went straight to the hospital. There is no way I should have driven myself though.

Upon arrival, I was escorted to a triage room. The triage room was at the end of the labor and delivery unit and I remember that it was dark. There were no windows in that room. I texted my husband, but he never responded. So I texted his mom and let her know what was happening. I arrived at the hospital about 12:30 PM. By 1:30 PM, my husband, his parents, and my daughter came to visit me. I remember the technician getting irritated with me because I used the bathroom 4 times in the hour, but I don't remember saying good-bye to my husband, daughter, or in-laws. I just remember darkness.

In part 4, I will continue the birth story of my son.

Taking Care of Yourself

I haven't been this sick since the first year that I taught. I have my first-ever case of bronchitis and I haven't felt 100% since I can't remember when. In the last two weeks, my respiratory health has gotten worse and I am finally on antibiotics to help with the bronchitis now - and I stayed home today. I feel guilty every time I take a sick day. I was conditioned that you don't miss work unless you have a fever, but when you never run a fever, it's hard to make that case.

I can't remember when the last time was that I felt 100%, because I've been seeing spots in my vision. They stay in relatively the same area of my eye and don't generally grow or shrink. They've been there so long that I make note of it and move on. But, this week, I saw neuro-ophthalmology at the University of Iowa. My optic nerve is swollen.

There really wasn't more that they could tell me - other than my optic nerve is swollen and I will need an MRI and an additional test. Apparently there are lots of reasons that an optic nerve can swell, but the doctors that I saw really didn't elaborate on what it could be. They said sometimes it can be as a result of weight gain - but, I've lost weight. In fact, I've lost about 25 pounds since the beginning of 2018. To anyone else that sounds like a ton of weight. I feel like it means nothing.

I whisper that I've lost 25 pounds. I should be shouting that I've lost 25 pounds, but I feel like it's invisible because I need to lose about another 100 and I will still be in the obese category, but I will be comfortable at that weight. The doctors asked what I did to lose the weight. I said a variety of things. I joined Noom. I read The Slight Edge. I purged my basement. I started meditating with Calm. I focused on my mental health more than my physical health and that has produced the greatest results with my weight loss. Sure, the stars aligning to make sure that everything I did aligned perfectly helped greatly to get me started.

I got started on a journey to take better care of myself, but I have had a slip on the journey. I still journal and meditate everyday, but my use of #theslightedge and being a #noomnerd is not thriving right now. I want to live in the important, but not urgent quadrant of Steven Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I want to make sure that I am eating well and exercising, meditating and journaling. I want to take better care of myself, but the first step in doing so is to acknowledge that sometimes you have to give yourself permission to rest. You have to give yourself permission to be okay with the circumstances life throws at you. You have to give yourself permission to be human - even if that means that you spend a day on the couch resting.

My Confession

Before I share the most horrifying thing that I've ever thought, let me be clear - it was a THOUGHT - not an action. It was a horrible thought at a horrible time in my life and yet one of the BEST things came out of it.

The birth story of my son is one where nearly everything that could go wrong did go wrong - and not just the birth - a lot of things happened in the 6 months after his birth that made it the hardest year of my life.

To start, my son's pregnancy started out with every indication that it wouldn't last. I was a lucky (or not so lucky) woman that had continuous bleeding for the first 16 weeks of the pregnancy. With the miscarriages before my daughter and the one in between my children, I was prepared to lose my son too. When we got to the 24 week viability, I breathed a sigh of relief and carefully scheduled out all my prenatal visits to not interfere with our upcoming move.

I planned to take some time off to be with my daughter right before the 4th of July so that we could participate in swim lessons at the local pool. She had an ear infection and couldn't take the class - but they refunded our money, so we just had some bonding time instead. Then she and and her dad were going to go to a family wedding while I stayed behind to pack.

When my husband and my daughter left for the wedding, I felt well. I had planned what items I could pack up, what items I needed to leave behind, and what items really needed to be thrown away. My dad and stepmom came over and we did things like wash the curtains and hang them back up to dry. There was absolutely no indication that my life would topple in the middle of the night on July 8th, 2012. But - when I woke up, I felt horrible. I had every single symptom of pre-eclampsia. My stepmom and dad had given me a blood pressure monitor - and my numbers skyrocketed. I can't remember the numbers for sure, but I am thinking in the range of 189/120. The pain in my upper right abdomen was awful and my vision suffered. When I called the hospital to see if I should go in, they said, "If you're worried, we can hook you up to the monitor." It was matter-of-fact, no emotion.

I was struggling at this point to figure out how in the world I could love someone as much as I loved my daughter. My thoughts on going to the hospital weren't whether or not the baby growing inside me would survive, but whether I would survive to be there for my daughter.

Once at the hospital, the monitors hooked up, and the baby moving, I got admitted. Indefinitely. My blood pressure wasn't going down and there was absolutely no way that this baby would be born term. In fact, he was born at 30 weeks and 5 days. Two days shy of being able to hold him right away.

The list of things that went wrong with his birth included having pre-eclampsia, my placenta abrupting, my baby not only wrapping the cord around his neck, but also tying a knot in it, and being born 10 weeks before his due date. To quote the doctor, "The baby needed to be born - for both your sake."

The birth story is horrifying, right? But that's not even the worst part of this six month period of time! The worst part was the postpartum depression (PPD) that I still deal with to this day. My PPD started early after delivery. I don't remember much of the first day of my son's life because he was not near me, but I remember anger. I remember rage. I remember sadness. I remember thinking, "maybe I should just use the Safe Haven law," which is the biggest confession that I have. I almost walked away from my baby boy.

Loss

This week, we lost our kitty. He was seven and I had been trusted to care for him by a friend when she could no longer give both of her kitties a good home because he was bullying his sister. Zeus was a cuddly feline at about 9 PM at night and he only bonded well with me and to a certain extent my daughter.

Since this wasn't our first experience with death, it was not too hard to let the kids know when they woke up yesterday morning that Zeus had passed away overnight. My son reacted by blaming his sister (how much brotherly love can one show?). My daughter reacted by saying that she wouldn't talk very much yesterday because she was sad. Then she went on to tell me about her art teacher's goats that had also passed away. 

Zeus is now at peace, which tends to be how I view death. I do mourn the loss of my kitty. I do mourn the loss of my best friend. I do mourn the loss of my grandparents. But I think of the quality of life they had at the end of their lives and I don't mourn their peace. I rejoice that they are no longer suffering. I rejoice that they can no longer have earthly pain. I rejoice in the memories I have shared with them. 

Bravery

Do you ever feel brave? I sure don't. I like things to be stable. I prefer when things are easy. I don't like confrontation. I don't like to admit when I am scared, overwhelmed, or uncertain. There are few people that I confide these things to - and I miss one of the bravest people that I have ever known fiercely.

Last weekend, my family and I went to the play Kazoo by a local playwright, Matt Falduto. The main character loses her mom and the story is about her best friends being there for her and helping her choose the bravery of living. I didn't lose my mom - I lost one of my best friends. She was brave. She fought cancer with a positive attitude, accepted everything that happened, and finally was free of suffering by passing on, but that left an emptiness in me, our circle of friends, and her family that will never be fully gone.

She was brave because she never stopped living. She was brave because she kept living even when she knew the cancer would win. She was brave because she admitted to her doctor that she was sad and crying a lot. She was brave because she asked for help when she needed rides to her appointments. She was brave because she called her close friends and family and said, "I have cancer." She was brave because she fought not one type of cancer, but two types. She was brave because she asked for prayers. She was brave for so many reasons and I want to be brave like she was, but I sure don't feel brave.

I am not fighting cancer. I don't have to be that brave. I need to make some life decisions that require bravery though. I want to be brave enough to quit my job and launch a full-time writing career. I want to be brave enough to not have a steady income. I want to live more courageously. I want to be brave.

Super Skate

I used to skate ALL. THE. TIME. I was never talented enough to skate backwards, but my mom would drop me off on a Saturday afternoon and I would spend the afternoon at the skating rink while she corralled my sister. Then the skating rink closed - and there was nowhere to skate nearby, so I hadn't found myself on skates for more than two decades when I bravely put them on last spring. It's like riding a bike - you may have a few tumbles, but you once you get going, it's second nature.

Remember my persistent daughter - she gets her persistence from her dad - and she nagged all day long to go skating. She did everything I asked her to with minimal complaint and she survived not being able to go to her brother's make up gymnastics class - so I decided that I could take both kids skating tonight. I had never been to the skating rink Super Skate in Cedar Rapids prior to tonight, but both of my kids had been there with daycare.

I knew that I expected an older skating rink, but I didn't expect to have wonderful customer service and a few songs that I actually knew - but none that date back to the Skateland days in Ottumwa. I chose not to skate tonight so that I could do some writing, do some applying to different jobs, and let my children exercise some independence.

Once I got my kids' skates laced up, I sent them out to practice skating. I knew that the snacking question would undoubtedly be asked, so I was proactive and ordered drinks and a cheese pizza for us. When I ordered, the staff were so kind and exceptional at their job. They made me feel welcome. The gesture of turning the menu so I "didn't have to read it sideways." Having a permanent marker to put my name on the lid of my cup, and their smiles made me feel welcome.

Their friendliness was very kind, very genuine - and maybe it's because I look like a tired mother who is just trying to provide some activity for her children, but it was so nice to be at a venue where the customer interaction was of a genuine nature.

I am happy to say that we now have another indoor activity that we can do as a family for the winter and the customer service is exceptional.

Books and Authors

My son says, "By Victoria and Pllbth Kann."

Then I say, "What about Pinkalicious?"

He laughs and then asks, "Mom, who wrote Silly Sally?"

I say, "I think it is written by Audrey Wood."

"What about the Gingerbread Man?"

Okay, kid, now you're stumping mom. I say, "I think it's an Aesop's fable, but I really don't know."

I am proud of him. I am glad that he is recognizing the author as an important part of the story. We talk about the title page, the author and illustrator. He enjoys reading and playing. All of his dramatic play tells a story.

This morning, while I was off doing my own thing, he was off building all the islands and headquarters for Inside Out out of Legos. He plays hard, but when it was time to clean up - he did not want to put the blocks away. I cleared off a shelf so that he can proudly display his masterpiece.

Now, if I could just capture all the wonderful stories he tells me and the emphasis that he puts on the words at exactly the right time, I would have a delightful arrangement of stories to bring humor and warmth to everyone.

Grocery Store Nightmares

It's after school and work on a Friday afternoon and I need to make a fast trip to the grocery store so that we can have something for dinner. I decide to pick up my children and let them go with me. Once there, I realize how big of a mistake this turns out to be.

By five o'clock the stimulant medication for ADHD is long gone and my daughter is ready to dart across a busy parking lot and plow a cart through the store. My son often follows his sister's lead, but thankfully pauses and waits for me to give him the signal to cross the parking lot.

I just want to get soup - just the kind that you pop in the microwave and drink directly from the cup. Near the soup is spaghetti-o's and macaroni. My son wants spaghetti-o's, until he sees the Trolls Easy Mac. My daughter has no desire for anything in this aisle. She wants a Lunchable. We go past chips, desserts ("Marshmallows!"), sunglasses from the Claire's display ("I just want to look at the pretty sunglasses"), bath bombs ("Put that back! We're not getting one"), and finally get to the aisle with the Lunchables. She hates bread - but chooses one with a sandwich. I point this out and she chooses nachos instead.

I'm frustrated at this point. As we work our way back to the front of the store, we see the bins filled with treats of special deals and my daughter pipes up and says, "Can I get a gift for Ms. T? She's so nice and I want to show her that she's special." I say no to the ridiculous requests that make no sense (dog food?), but I let her put an extra box of popcorn in the cart for her teacher and her brother's teacher.

We stand in line. There's something to touch everywhere around us. I give my daughter the directive to unload the cart on to the conveyor belt. Finally, it's our turn to check out and the cashier asks, "How are you doing today?"

I respond with, "I'm wishing I would've just left my children at daycare." As I am taking care of the business transaction, my daughter is right there asking for a sticker or a sucker. She knows the drill - and kindly includes her brother.

In my mind, picking the kids up and taking them with me to do the errands was a way to include them in some of the day-to-day activities of life. However, in reality, I think I'll just leave my kids at daycare next time.

Inside Out

If you have been around animated movies in the last five years, you will know of Frozen for sure, but you will also most likely know the movie Inside Out. Inside Out raised awareness of mental health and brought a really abstract concept to life.

It's Friday. I'm tired - and still not feeling "normal" - so I took the kids to the grocery store to let them find their own dinner tonight. Once home and our highly nutritious meals of Easy Mac and Lunchables were served and the popcorn popped, we settled in to watch Inside Out.

I'm struggling right now. The seasons are changing (heading to fall and then winter in the U.S.) Our daylight hours are much less and I haven't broken out my "Rise and Shine" yet - although I keep thinking that I should. I suffer from seasonal depression. It sucks energy and joy right out of you and all you can feel is sadness.

Inside Out precisely reveals why it is so important to have sadness in our lives - and yet most of us wish we were a little more joyful. Once Joy and Sadness disappear from headquarters, they are fighting like crazy to get back there. I think this demonstrates that those of us who do have depression - be it Seasonal Affective Disorder, Post-partum depression, manic-depressiveness, or any other form of depression, would love to be happy, but the emotions are pulled away from our conscience and anger, fear, and disgust run the show.

Right now, I am living in fear of the unknown. What if my plan doesn't work? What if it does? What if it changes twenty times between now and my deadline? What will happen if we have to move? What will happen if we stay where we're at? What will happen for the benefit of my family? What will happen as a detriment to my family? I can't answer these questions immediately, but I can tell you that my success rate has been 100% so far of getting through both difficult and exciting situations.

I am also angry that life can seem so lopsided in some people's favor. The reality is, though, that everyone has a struggle that they are dealing with and no one knows what someone else is going through. I remember being so mad that we had bought a starter house - and then the economy tanked. Now the trend is to build "tiny houses." Unfortunately for us, the trend didn't come at the right time, but our property is rented out and our tenant has been there for 5 years.

There are many things to be disgusted with in the world too, but generally I get most disgusted with myself because I believe that I should be able to be a superhero and keep everything together. I believe that I shouldn't have emotions, but should be constantly happy. That's not reality - nor would we appreciate the happy ones without the sad ones.

Overwhelmed

I think of the movie Clueless when I think of the word, "overwhelmed." The quote in the movie is, "You can be overwhelmed and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?" I have been overwhelmed for awhile. Occasionally I am underwhelmed (although that's not very often).

The list of reasons that I am overwhelmed include:

1.) Back to School

2.) A child with ADHD

3.) A husband with ADHD

4.) A new supervisor

5.) A mission to become healthier

6.) A desire to quit my job

7.) Being PTA vice president - and the president resigning

8.) Getting my children to daycare

9.) Paying for daycare

10.) A need to write

1.) Back to school means back to routines. It means that bedtime is critical and reading is important (okay - it always is, but sometimes we aren't very good about reading in the summertime). Our routines are categorized into before school and after school and each day I try to engage with my children about their day. Seesaw helps with this. I looked at my daughter's seesaw entry yesterday and wondered if she had meal worms in her class. She gave me an in-depth explanation of them. But remembering those details - even if they're at my fingertips can be overwhelming.

2.) A child with ADHD - This is one thing that overwhelming isn't quite enough of an adjective to describe. It is exhausting. It is frustrating - for both of us - because she literally forgets what she is doing. We're about 4 months into having her take a small does of a stimulant and it helps a lot. The resistance that I got from my husband was high because he was afraid that she'd be treated differently if she had to take medication. I'm more worried about her inability to focus and her distraction to other students when she makes noises she's unaware of. Also, now that her ADHD is more controlled, is it possible that she has anxiety? Sometimes they go hand-in-hand.

3.) A husband with ADHD proves to be a challenge on most days. He focuses on things that are interesting to him, like screens/TV/shows. The have-to stuff gets done, usually. But the projects are never-ending. They get started and then pieces of wood sit around in the dining room for months. We've had pieces of wood to build a sturdier bed frame in our bedroom for YEARS. It is overwhelming. He's attached to stuff (and we both are generational pack rats, but I am proud to say that with the help of some friends I got rid of a dump truck full of junk from our basement in January). Impulsiveness is rampant and I never know what new gadget may be waiting for me on the off chance that he decides to clean out his truck.

4.) A new supervisor is always challenging, but it's even more challenging when there's reorganization going on. There's a lot of invisibility in distance learning (my day job) and up until she became my supervisor there wasn't a lot of love for distance learning. She also went from my peer to my supervisor - so that makes things a little awkward as well.

5.) I am on a mission to be the best version of myself. It is hard. I usually do okay in some areas of health, but not others. For example, my mental health is usually okay, but getting exercise and eating well are not the strong points of my health. I recently finished the audiobook The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and I looked at what was urgent and important in my life and am striving to live the quadrant II lifestyle. But this overwhelms me, because I feel like nothing should ever be urgent and important - unless there is blood, barf, or bullying involved - and that's not how society or my job works.

6.) There is never a good time to quit a job, but as I look at all the job advice out there and have recently taught a class on careers, I want nothing more than to take a huge, huge risk and become unemployed. The fact that I am professional staff and not faculty never made a big difference to me - until I had a conversation with a colleague about how what I did sounded an awful lot like teaching. Couple that with looking into what is in the faculty contract and then reflecting on working in three Learning Management Systems, grading more than 1500 chapter tests in a year, working with school districts, parents, students, and online facilitators - I am overwhelmed.

7.) At the time I was volun-suggested to be the PTA vice president for my children's school this year, I didn't think I would ever have to take the stage, especially not this early in the year, but our PTA president resigned due to personal reasons and the other three of us on the executive committee will be glad when we can host a special election on Monday and get a new leader - because I really don't want to be PTA president this year.

8.) Remember, I have a child with ADHD. Getting her up, out the door, with taking her medicine is usually challenging. Last year, I bribed her with donuts on the Fridays that were paydays. It was a good bonding time, but this year we've changed course and both she and her brother catch the bus from daycare. It's overwhelming to get the kids out the door with their shoes (on the right feet) and socks on and their backpacks. I've got to get myself out the door too - and try to take care of my morning writing and meditation needs. Overwhelming because neither are ready at the same time and by the time one gets to the door, the other is messing around. I know, normal kids, but it takes single step directions for my daughter to get her shoes on, get her backpack, and get to the door. For my son, it takes one!

9.) The cost of daycare is high. By the time I am done paying for daycare, I could probably have financed my entire post-graduate degree. I don't know a single person who wouldn't say the cost of childcare (especially quality childcare) isn't overwhelming.

10.) Finally, I am overwhelmed by the NEED to write. I am overwhelmed by sharing stories with others. See number 6. I want to quit my job, but I want to quit my job so that I can start a freelance career or publish a novel. Or both. The more I write, the more that I need to write.

Maybe while I contemplate all the reasons that I am overwhelmed, I will also contemplate if I can ever just be whelmed.

Justice

We were all tired yesterday. None of us slept well on Saturday night. Me, because I listened to three girls have a cousin sleepover experience; my daughter because she was part of the sleepover; my son because he slept over at Papa's house; and my husband because he took care of the dog in the middle of the night.

The girls went to bed sometime between 10:40 and 11, which for two eight year olds and a nine year old is fairly late. They were also up by 6:30 where they happily fulfilled their desire to make my husband and I breakfast in bed. The intention behind it was good. The reality behind it meant that we had a significant mess in the kitchen and they burnt at least one slice of toast. But, they were very excited to do something that felt adult-like! Memories can't be recreated, but messes can definitely be cleaned up and since the girls only get to spend quality time together, sibling-free, about once a year (or less), I can survive having a mess in my kitchen.

Once everyone was back with their respective families, I noticed a significant neediness from my daughter. She clung to me the way that she does when she's not received enough attention from mom and wants some one-on-one time. There's a few things that we've done - gotten our nails painted, went swimming, visited the library, etc. But there was one thing we never did - until yesterday. We visited Justice. 

Justice is a store that is marketed to preteens. (How the bleep did my little, tiny girl transition into more of a preteen?) She'd been asking me to go to Justice, but never suspected that I would actually take her. When we got to the mall (if you can still call it that with more vacant stores than occupied ones), we entered and her first thought was to ride the carousel. (Now that doesn't sound like a preteen). I walked her to the store and told her to read the title.

"J-u...jus...just...JUSTICE!" Her face lit up and she headed right for the backpacks that have the sequence sewn on to reverse the image. Each section of the store required concentration and silliness of trying on slap bracelets, and investigating how the stuffed animals fit in their carriers. At the puppies and the kitties, she asked how much they were - $9.90, I told her, followed by "You have enough money for the kitty or the puppy (I had given her $10), but not one in the carrier."

My eight year old, in true preteen fashion, replied, "You can put it on your credit card. You have enough money on there." 

Leave a comment of what your children have said that leaves your jaw on the floor and share this post so everyone can have a good laugh today.

ROI on Lifelong Learning and My Career Crossroad

If I take a serious look at my formal educational value and return on investment between my master's degree, my undergrad, my teaching licensure re-certification fees, and the additional cost of adding on an ESL endorsement to my already abundant certifications for the state of Iowa, one may say that my return on investment is still in the red. I still owe about $2000 on my undergraduate and graduate loans combined - and in the grand scheme where some people pay mortgage payments toward their student loans, mine are relatively small. So why I am I considering getting an EdD?

An EdD is classified as a "terminal" degree in the world of education, meaning that beyond that there really isn't an advantage to having more formal education, but I know that I will never be satisfied without learning more and more and more. But the $40,000 investment (more than I paid out-of-pocket for my master's and bachelor's combined) holds me back from diving into a competitive admission process of a 3 year cohort to receive a transcript that says I will know more 3 years from now than I do today.

In addition to the cost, I am still not sure what I want to be when I grow up. I love the work I do to empower students to do quality online work and earn a high school diploma, but I have been ready for a change for awhile. While the Leadership and Innovation Program at Arizona State University meets my requirements for an asynchronous online program and a focus on higher education track, I have always wanted to write.

So, I am in the crossroads of a career pathway. Do I blaze my way into a program and try to be "in the know" on the disruption that IS coming in education? Do I stick to my written goal of being able to freelance write and consult by June 30, 2019? Or do I combine my goals?

I am learning a lot more about writing right now. I am in a professional writing circle. I am also taking an online class, Introduction to Internet Writing. I have free wrote almost every morning for quite some time (more than a year) in my journal. I have written, but not edited, a 50,000 word novel for NaNoWriMo 2017, and I tried to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo in July. Writing is a part of me. But so is education.

While the ROI in the truest sense of the term is still in the red, the investment that I have made in myself through self-learning, participating in lifelong learning opportunities, and continual improvement is much more than the initial $26,000 out-of-pocket investment I made in my undergrad and graduate programs. It is the relationships that I have built. It is the constant push to be the best version of myself and to never stop learning.

Whether I immerse myself in a post-graduate program or jump off the high dive into a world of freelance and consulting work, I will always be a learner.

Leave a comment on what questions you would ask yourself if you were me.

Nails of a Bowling Ball

Since I had my fingernails painted in a marble swirl on the afternoon of August 3rd at Nail World in Cedar Rapids, I have received so many compliments and have been a walking advertisement for the work that they do. The only person who seems to think otherwise is my husband - who believes that I had my nails done to look like a bowling ball.

When my husband suggested bowling tonight, I originally wasn't looking forward to doing anything but the bare minimum to survive tonight; but, I am glad we went. It was a family-focused activity where the kids could explore the cause and effect of rolling the bowling ball down the lane. My daughter danced her way to throwing the ball down the lane and my son laid on the floor listening for the ball to come up the return. Their actions were very much what I expect from each of the kids.

My daughter is always dancing, singing, or moving - and my son likes to figure out how things work. Therefore the wiggling, giggling, and sashaying up to the line by my daughter did not surprise me and if my son really wants to lay on the floor - I'll let him. And if my husband really thinks my nails look like a bowling ball so be it. With this thick layer of awesomeness painted on (it's not dipped), I am relishing the fact that none of my nails chipped while bowling, something that has never happened before.

The Lake Effect Shower

The after effects of a lake effect shower

I know that it was my thirty-first birthday when I first encountered the danger of leaving one child unsupervised in the bathroom. It wasn't because of all the normal reasons that experts tell you not to leave a child alone in the bathroom (drowning, razors, medicine cabinets, etc.) - it was because it was dangerous to let your child be unsupervised for any length of time when she is two and can reach the baby powder.

I know that it was my 31st birthday, because I shared it with my grandma and we had to travel that day to visit her in the nursing home. I was feeding baby brother at the same time that my older child thought it would be a grand idea to shake the baby powder all over the bathroom. 

Brother was only 4 days shy of being six months old and sister (culprit) was a mere 2 1/2 as of Christmas day. But boy did she make a ginormous mess. Now in typical 2 1/2 year old fashion, she was quiet - which any non-exhausted, experienced mom will tell you is generally not an indication of the child finding his/her way to a peaceful slumber, but rather a way of finding his/her way to creating a mess. In fact it was such a layer of baby powder snow that I was able to capture a perfect footprint picture to forever commemerate my 31st birthday.

Fast forward five and a half years and the messes get bigger. Tonight, I was clearing the table, conversing with my husband, and I hear the high pitched silly laughter that only my children can produce when they are having oodles of fun. Noticing that it was 7:30 PM, rounding on 8 PM, I rushed to tell them that they needed to get their pajamas on, but in my bathroom - where they both were standing in the shower - the floor was a lake. 

My generally calm disposition went right out the window and I did not do as I did with the baby powder snow and join in - but I did throw some towels at them and told them to clean it up. They didn't get it cleaned up on the first try - so we had some repeated attempts at drying the floor. 

Now not only will I have the baby powder snow of January 6th, 2013 cemented to memory, but I will also have the Lake Effect Shower of August 27th, 2018 fresh in my mind - and I hope my kids will remember that it is a lot of fun to make the mess, but mom will make you clean it up.

The Struggle to Find Joy

I've been on a personal development journey. It began when I read The Slight Edge in January, joined Noom, and started actively participating in meditation through the Calm app. One thing that I struggle with is finding joy in the present moment and being okay with where I am at right now.

I have a lot to be thankful for. I have two children who are becoming more independent every day. In fact, this week my son decided that he would take showers instead of baths and needs virtually no assistance with this task. I have a daughter who willingly takes our 13 year old (we're not sure if he's 12 or 13, but he's old) lab on a walk around the block. We always have clean clothes to wear and if the dishes aren't done we have paper plates. But I struggle. I struggle to really feel the gratitude through the busyness of the Back-to-School season, the inadequacies of my finances to meet all my wants, and the lack of growth opportunities in my career.

To an outsider, I look successful - like I have it all figured out, but in reality I fail more than I succeed and my house is a constant war zone until our amazing #morethanmaids company comes on a bi-weekly basis to take one task off my plate. 

In my head though, I want to constantly compare myself to other people. To my siblings, to my coworkers, to my friends. That is definitely not going to help me become happier with myself. If I want to compare myself with anyone - it should be myself from a year ago, five years ago, or ten years ago. How have I grown? What has been successful during that time?  When I stop and reflect on myself, I see how much I have grown and that breeds happiness.

There are also days when I want to choose to see the negatives in life versus the positives. There are times when I want to say "The hell with all this exponential growth talk! I am just going to stop caring, stop doing, and stop investing because it doesn't matter anyways." But I haven't given up on my commitments to myself: truly living a grateful life and looking for joy (even when the light is off).

My Story - The Reason that I am Pro-Choice - Part 2

The Birth Day

My prenatal appointments had been going well, but I was concerned that this one would be different. I was concerned that my doctor would send me home on bed rest - after all this little peanut wasn't supposed to be born until near the end of July. However, being born on June 25th did have the advantage of being the perfect birthday - it was quite literally half of a year away from Christmas. 

"How was the urine test?" I asked at the end of my appointment. 

My doctor looked it up and said that my test showed 303 and the cut-off for pre-eclampsia was 300. He was admitting me for hospital bed rest and then the baby would be born as soon as I made it to 37 weeks. However, since the last ultrasound that I had had was my 18 week one - he ordered another one. 

When the technician measured the baby inside - she immediately called the doctor and he said we'd be having a baby today. She was measuring six weeks behind. So instead of being nearly 6 pounds - she was only 3 pounds 6 oz. He didn't want to wait any longer and so as soon as my husband returned from a full-daily rate lost parking ticket trip home - I was prepped for a C-Section and our daughter was born. 

I remember that day. I remember that she was small and squawky. I remember that I couldn't hold her because of how the IV was inserted in me and I couldn't move my arm. I remember seeing her and hearing her, but I don't remember much else. 

She was taken to the NICU - but man was she fiesty. She still is, of course. She alarmed the nurses because she could do things that no baby, especially one that was premature and one that was only a few days out of the womb could do.

Let's take a took at what would have happened if I hadn't asked the question. I could have died. My baby girl almost certainly could have died - as my doctor said, "At this point, what are we waiting for?"

The flurry of emotions that surrounds a new mom is overwhelming. It is overwhelming because you now have to take care of someone other than yourself and you have to put your children's needs ahead of your own - in theory. However, when you experience a NICU stay, you realize you must take care of yourself before you are anywhere close to being able to take care of your baby.

With my daughter being my first, I had loads of support. Every time I turned around the baby had visitors and they were asking if there was anything I needed. But what about the moms that don't have that and know that they need to make a decision early on to terminate a pregnancy? What about the moms who could die if they are not in the right place at exactly the right time? Is it okay for society to dictate to them what is best for their health?

In Part 3, I will tell the story of my son's birth - and the emotional overload that I still experience.

The First Day of School - Evening

I had a long day. School starting means that my canyon of leisurely accomplishing my everyday tasks catapulted into the highest, steepest, tallest mountain and I can't really describe my job as being anything other than part teacher, part school counselor, part school administration, and part school secretary. There are lots tasks that are so mundane I don't think about them everyday and there are tasks that accelerate at exponential speed when school counselors, principals, and students are back in their brick-and-mortar buildings - tasks that still exist when we have the valleys, just not as frequently. Instead of a steady pace of hitting the mountaintop peak, it is a catapult up to the top with no incremental steps.

Couple the spring of hitting the mountain peak with the implementation of new processes and what I need is an exponential growth of my patience. Instead, I am short with my husband - because he doesn't ask if there's anything he can help me with. I am short with my kids because they can't read my mind and understand that we need to leave for gymnastics now. I am impatient. I am tired. My house is a mess - dishes haven't been done this week and my laundry is vomiting out dirty clothes. I also haven't slept well. And the work processes? Well, they will get better - but to keep the majority of people happy with the data-processes, we had to implement the change at about the worst possible time for me.

What should reduce duplication of efforts has not proved to reduce my processes yet. My process worked before - it worked because I was able to delegate tasks and knew how to complete them in a pinch, but right now, the process has slowed me down. It won't always, but I like to live with the Amazon philosophy of customer obsession. I have communicated the hiccup to the superusers of my program and I am exercising my patience with those that I rely on to do my job - but for my family - my patience is gone.

I didn't have sidewalk chalk for our annual tradition of drawing the grade level around the child and taking photos this morning. So I bought some after work. I got the kids. I got home. Immediately we went outside to sidewalk chalk it up. My daughter didn't wait for me to get her brother's K done before jumping in and my son was blinded by the sun - so my pictures turned out crappy.

The two around my daughter was not filled in and I was beyond done in waiting on her to do so - so I left her outside. When they look back at their pictures, they'll be disappointed that for Kindergarten and 2nd grades their back to school pictures are pretty crappy - because mom had a crappy day.

The First day of School - Morning

My children start their first days of kindergarten and second grade today. I am sending them on the bus. As much as I would love to be there when they walk through the doors, they need the independence today. It is probably harder for us, as parents, to let our kids grow up, than for our kids to be independent.

They've both ridden the bus before. They will be fine. They have a bus attendant and a bus driver - so all the mistakes that could be made will probably not be made - unlike when I started school. I walked on the bus confidently my first day of kindergarten, but didn't know that you shouldn't sit more than three people in a seat. I just saw a bus full of students and picked a random seat. Now, there's someone guiding my children, so I know that they'll be fine.

Once they walk in to the school, they will either wait for their teacher, or they will go eat breakfast. The second grader has been to this school before, so I have no doubt she will bossily, and possibly in a helpful way, show my son how things are done. Thankfully they will head to their classes at 8:40 and each of them will be able to be independent.

Through the day, they will find routines. They will learn the expectation of their classrooms and their school, and they will review the JSA Way - I am kind. I am calm. I am a listener. I believe I can, I KNOW I can! (Words that we should all live by).

Back-To-School

I took a day of vacation today. Guess what? It was important, but it wasn't vacation. It was filled with volunteering for the school PTA. I happily do so, but I also am craving some time away on a beach with a book or two and no obligations. I am guessing that won't happen now that school is starting on Thursday.

I eerily had almost no new email messages when I had to take an unexpected day off to take care of an ill child on Friday. I haven't checked my work email today. Once school starts my average emails rise from 20 per day to 100+ per day and I keep my inbox virtually empty. I am wondering how many new rather important messages I will have when I login tomorrow, but for today, I enjoyed time with my son.

I walked into the school this morning, dropped my son off in a kindergarten classroom for Kindergarten JumpStart. The friendly teachers of @JSAMagnet greeted us and we made connections between brother and sister and I disappeared to do things that a PTA mom does like man a registration table. Then kindergarten parents were ushered to a different part of the building and were given a tour, told the importance of letting kids be independent, and the critical nature of sleep. I went to see if there was anything I hadn't heard before (after 15 years in education, I am pretty versed in education-ease, so nothing super surprising).

My son was excited to see me, nearly two hours later, and he came out smiling. He found his picture of Ms. Bindergarten and came running toward me. He was not at all unhappy to be there, but he wasn't at all unhappy to leave either.

We did some errands, ate lunch, and he said he wanted to pick up his sister. So we did. Then we packed backpacks up for Back-to-School night. I didn't have all the supplies, but they are communal supplies anyways - so when it is February and they run out, I'll send some.

So at about 2:30 this afternoon, we headed back to school. Armed with a Microsoft Surface tablet and an iPAD, my grandiose idea of having prospective PTAers fill out an online form was partially great and partially a fail - because technology is great - when it works, but with WiFi not working and the HotSpot not picking up more than 2 bars, the ability to complete the online form was not super powerful within the school. (Even the IT expert [husband] could only troubleshoot that it was a connection issue).

From 2:30 to 4:30, I sat at the PTA table. I tried to have people fill out the online form and it worked about 10 percent of the time. Many people opted to just leave their emails with the paper form and it is hopeful that they will go ahead and fill out the online form anyways.

At 4:30, I found my way to the kindergarten classroom and second grade classroom. I introduced myself to the teachers, caught up with other parents and grandparents that I knew from the community and spent time chatting with another mom that have children in daycare with my two and who will be riding the same bus.

By the end of the day though, I am tired. I am ready to wind down and I still had to do bedtime. But we got it all in and I don't think any tears were shed.

We Learn By Messing Up

I dabble in about everything, but one of my truest passions is teaching (well, and writing). Beyond just teaching, I love teaching swim lessons. (It's been two decades and I am still doing it - so I must love it right?) I have had the same swimmer since May and he is a child who is a) an extremely good listener and b) quite insightful for his age.

Rotary breathing is probably the most difficult skill to teach a swimmer. Other issues, such as relaxing enough to float or putting your face in the water come with exposure and a true acceptance of the water being helpful for you. But rotary breathing is a different story. It is hard. It is hard to teach because there are so, so, so many things for your body to remember before you move from the cognitive stage of learning to the autonomous stage of learning.

Tonight, we worked on the very beginning piece of rotary breathing. It was a lot of imagination - talk to the fish, listen to the fish. Use a blowing arm and a breathing arm. I demonstrated. I let my swimmer try. I knew he wouldn't be perfect, no one is on his/her first attempt.

I looked at him and said, "I'm glad you tried." His look told me that he was trying and knew that it was messy.

He said, "We learn by messing up."

Yes, kiddo, we do. And you will too. Rotary breathing takes practice, but once you get it - you will have the hardest part of swimming mastered and I bet that you'll be doing flip turns like the swimmers that you are fascinated by when you walk out of the pool.

My Baby Goes to Kindergarten

Tomorrow we start the official back-to-school process where I will take my son to Kindergarten JumpStart. We will meet my son's teacher, find out about the school, and get acquainted with a new-to-him school. I'm invested in this school, serving on the executive committee for the PTA and participating in a lottery to even be able to have my children go there.

Cedar Rapids Public Schools do things right when it comes to the magnet schools. They are first, and foremost, neighborhood schools. After that, it is by chance that students get accepted into the schools and we were lucky that the STEAM magnet school had room for us. Once you are accepted though, you become part of that school's family.

It helped that there were other families from other networks that my husband and I associate with to keep us engaged in the PTA, but to be part of the parent leadership team while my son is starting kindergarten and my daughter is in 2nd grade, it is a little awe-inspiring. I say kind things about all the schools my children have attended in Cedar Rapids, but I say exceptional things about the amazing school culture at JSA. All the teachers are invested. They want to be there and their attrition rate recently has been due to leadership opportunities - not because they disliked the school.

So as I reflect on the past 6 years and how my baby is now going to be walking into his first day of kindergarten this year, I wonder what growth I will see in him this year. Six years ago, next week, we made it home from the hospital after a 50 day NICU stay. Five years ago, next month, he took his first step. Three and four years ago, I really don't remember that well. Two years ago, he started preschool. A year ago, he rode the bus for the first time to alternative kindergarten. Thursday, he'll walk through the doors of a new school and begin his kindergarten year.

Will he surpass his sister with his reading skills?

Will he be even more engineering-minded when he enters first grade?

Will he love ST Math? (Likely, yes - since last week he said to his sister, "I am a Johnson student now; you have to let me play ST Math.")

Will he love kindergarten?

Will he keep his hands to himself?

I'll keep you posted on the answers to these questions, but for now I just want the wonder and awe of remembering that my once 3 lb. 3 oz little boy is now an energetic, fun-loving, inquisitive almost-kindergartner.

A Lemonade Stand

We have heard for six weeks nearly every weekend, "Mom, can I have a lemonade stand?" (It's never "Dad, can I have a lemonade stand?" but that's another post). I caved today. I said yes.

If my daughter's name began with a P, we'd call her Persistent Patty, but it doesn't. The child has the persistence of a puppy dropping the ball at your feet literally every time you throw it. When she wants something, it is unrelenting until she gets it and if you say no, you better have every ounce of willpower to follow through on saying no.

So today, we embarked on the lemonade stand adventure. It lasted more than five minutes, which was a relief. She even had one paying customer besides mom, dad, and brother, but she has yet to grasp the whole planning stage of entrepreneurship. Instead, she sees her objective, conquers it, and then asks me, "Mom, why are there no customers?"

I referenced a book that we read, "Froggy's Lemonade Stand" by Jonathon London, and asked what happened during that book. Froggy drinks all the lemonade while waiting on his friends, so I asked my daughter to think about how people were generally busy in the mornings and told her to pick it up again about 3 PM. When we returned home from a little family outing at 3, she was no longer interested.

So now, we have a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge and a lemonade sign that says, "Lemonade 25 cents." I have no idea if we'll use the lemonade sign again, but I'm sure that we'll drink the lemonade - because who doesn't love a cup of lemonade on a warm summer day?

Waste Time at Aldi?

When I started out on this whole adulting thing, I refused - vehemently refused - to shop at Aldi. It was not a store that I wanted to waste my time at because I was perfectly willing to pay for convenience. After my son was born and we moved to a larger city, I found my way to Aldi.

What I also found was that it wasn't a waste of time, but a huge time saver. They don't have multiple brands (aside from special buys), so I have no decision fatigue in navigating the right value for the food I am purchasing. They no longer operate on a cash-only basis, which helps with the whole convenience thing too (because who has cash anymore?).

Today, my six year old and I headed to Aldi for some ingredients to make eggplant parmesan. The eggplant already existed on my counter and I needed to do something with the obscene amount of vegetables that we have collected from our CSA over the past two weeks, so tonight's menu - eggplant parmesan. So my son and I journey to Aldi where the requests for cheesy crackers and chocolate syrup can be indulged in because the total of my bill will still be thirty to fifty percent less than if I were shopping at a different supermarket.

So now that I'm well into my thirties and definitely much more seasoned in this adulting world, I find that Aldi may not have all the bells and whistles of a bigger supermarket chain, but I guarantee you that I am not waiting in line wasting my time any longer at this wonderful grocer than any other larger grocery store.

It's Not Having What You Want, It's Wanting What You've Got

"It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got." - Soak Up the Sun by Sheryl Crow

In January, I really started to focus on personal development. I read The Slight Edge by Jeff Olson, joined Noom, downloaded Calm, and continued my daily journaling practice. Although there are many things that each media taught me, the best gift that I can give myself is gratitude. 

Happy people are successful people. Jeff Olson devotes a whole chapter to this concept in The Slight Edge. Calm has a seven day program to explore gratitude. Noom celebrates what is going well in a journey to lifelong health - and focuses on all aspects of health, including mental health. 

To be happy, one must be grateful. So often, we focus on all the things we don't have. We focus on not having a new car or a new house. We focus on not having a new job or new relationship. But, what if, instead, we focus on the home that we already have? The car that takes to and from work, the job that pays our bills, or the relationship that we've invested in over time?

Sheryl Crow says it well in Soak Up the Sun, "It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got." When we want want we already have, we can be grateful. We can appreciate life around us and we can be part of a kinder humanity.

As a person I practice kindness everyday. I begin my work day with thank yous and end my day reflecting on what I am grateful for. Generally, I am not thankful for stuff, but rather I am thankful for the interactions that I have had with someone. And, my quarter of an investment in the way of a card can put a smile on someone's face for the day and I often get some kind of acknowledgement later, which I don't need, but I am happy to celebrate someone else's day.

As a mom, I need to share this with my children. We talk about things that make us happy and sad during the day, but I hear, "Mom, I need to order a new Power Ranger Megazord from Amazon. Mom, did you know there's a toy store in Kansas City? Mom, Walmart has a toy section [giggle, giggle]," nearly everyday from my 6 year old. So now that I am focused way more on having gratitude in my adult life, I am going to start posing the questions to my children, "What do you already have that you are thankful for?" and "How can we spread more kindness in the world?"

My Gifts

I took the dog out for a quick walk tonight. We generally don't go on very many walks, but I am trying to change my lifestyle - and it's definitely not super easy. On our walk, I was thinking about the gifts that I have in my personal and professional life.

First, I am patient. I am about the most patient person on the planet until I've hit my limit of stress for the day and then I snap. I snap at my husband. I snap at my children. I snap at the dog and the cat, but if you're a stranger I probably won't snap at you. I tell other people that my own mom "has the patience of a saint - for anyone that is not her child." Generally my patience is not just for those strangers, but is for everyone in my life.

Second, I am calm. I stay very calm - except when I've told my daughter 18 times that it is time to go and finally have to resort to yelling at her to get even a minuscule amount of her attention. I offer up the choice and consequences of her actions as calmly as possible and on the days she's had her medicine it works - other days not so much (she has ADHD).

Third, I am great at training others. I give step-by-step directions. They are detailed and they start at the beginning. So when I am training other colleagues on a new software program, I deliver an SOP with screenshots and it starts at the very beginning. I write user-guides like I am making them for my own mom - who again has the patience of a saint - for anyone that is not her child. If I am trying to teach her something new, especially when it comes to technology, I start at the power button and work my way up from there. With screen casting, I can also make videos which is incredibly helpful in my professional life teaching ESL students.

Are these all my gifts? Nope. Is this the short list of my most outstanding ones? Yes. Now I am off to give the greatest gift of all - the gift of reading to my children and promoting literacy at home.

Mom, How Do I Order it from Amazon?

I was sitting in the van, getting ready to take my children somewhere. I'm sure it was daycare or gymnastics - all routine places that we go frequently. There was nothing special about the day until my 6 year old son told me, "I need to order a #PowerRanger Megazord from Amazon."

My son labels everything with precise labels. He labels his transformers, #Bumblebee, and #OptimusPrime. He labels his shoes #Skechers or #UnderArmor. He speaks with precision so that we know exactly what he means - well most of the time.

So the surprise didn't come from, "#PowerRanger Megazord." It came from "order" and "#Amazon."

I don't know about the rest of you, but at 6 years old, I was not worried about ordering a new toy from a website. (Okay - websites didn't exist at all when I was 6). Nor was I worried about ordering a new toy from a catalog or off of an infomercial.

I'd love to say that when I was 6 I was riding bikes and digging holes, but the truth is, I don't remember what I was doing when I was 6. I do, however, know that I sure wasn't ordering anything off of Amazon (and my son won't be either).

My Morning Routine

I just finished listening to the audio book of My Morning Routine: How Successful People Start Every Day Inspired by Benjamin Spall and Michael Xander. The authors interviewed many successful people that described their morning routine and give advice to the listeners/readers as to how successful people start their days.

It is not surprising that many successful people do not start their day with email. Many have more introverted activities such as journaling or meditation, or even exercise, to begin their days and many will not put their phones in their bedrooms. As I listened to this I had some questions:

1.) Am I unsuccessful at getting enough sleep because my phone is my alarm clock?
2.) Could I be a freelance writer?
3.) Am I doing anything to inhibit my creativity?
4.) How do I define success?
5.) Is there room in my morning routine to add exercise?

I'd like to take a look at each of my questions individually.

My phone
When I go to bed, my phone is near my pillow. The "Do Not Disturb" setting is turned on from 9 PM to 5 AM. It is face down and I am generally not on it at night, unless all my physical print publications have been read and I have downloaded an e-book from the library. Most of the people interviewed for this book would not have a problem with my phone being in my bedroom, not being used, as long as I have the discipline to follow through on not using it (which is 95% of the time).

Freelance Writing
I spoke with my husband yesterday about the possibility of becoming a freelance writer. Ideally, I would find a book contract and I would become the next Jodi Picoult or J.K. Rowling; however, I am not sure how to go about finding an agent to break into that field - or even if I am in the right place at the right time like some authors find themselves. My goal for myself during the next year is to learn about freelance work. I will take an online class and I will commit to posting at least one blog post per week.

Inhibition of Creativity
I don't think I am inhibiting my creativity. That doesn't mean that I always have creative juices flowing through my veins, but I definitely have embraced "Creation Before Input." From the time I heard that phrase, I have actively put off logging in to my social media accounts to start my day. I may check them before I leave home, but not without my journaling and meditation time first. My routine is to let the dog out, feed him, get a cup of tea or coffee (depending on my relationship with sugar at the moment - coffee if I am carefree about sugar and want a little sugar with my coffee, but tea when I am conscientious of what is actually entering my mouth in the sweets department), retreat to my writing station - currently in the corner of our guest bedroom - where I journal for at least twenty minutes, and I follow it up with The Daily Calm. I would say that I am doing well at creating before I even think of checking my phone - but if I fail, I forgive myself.

Success
I want to compare myself to other people and measure my success by their houses, their cars, their lifestyles; but, I need to compare myself to myself from the past. When I focus on where I was six and eight years ago, I have grown exponentially as a person. Eight years ago I became a mom and there is nothing like a child that challenges you to have more of a routine. Six years ago our second child was born. He was a preemie. I have not only kept him alive (that's a huge success for all moms out there - go you) and he wants to play with me. That's success. My daughter is a reader now. She struggles with attention and she bombed her winter reading test, but she made huge gains in the spring and we've actually read this summer (another success). My marriage - definitely not perfect - has survived for 12 years. My student loans are nearly paid off and neither car is tied to a car payment - another way that I am successful. I have a job that I mostly like - and it pays me well, but also affords me the flexibility to attend all the kids' school activities and be a mentor to others. I'm going to choose to define success by my level of happiness - which is about an 8 or a 9 today.

Exercise in My Morning Routine
Right now, there's no way that I am going to attempt to add in exercise to my morning routine. I rise at 5:15 AM, if not a little earlier, and spend the first hour of my day journaling and meditating. I have never been a morning exerciser and when I have tried to add it to my morning routine in the past I have failed. Therefore, I am perfectly happy keeping my exercise for later in the day when I can be social with others at an aqua aerobics class or swim some laps at an outdoor pool. It's okay that exercise in the mornings doesn't work for me. Maybe if I get to be a freelance writer exercise will slot in an earlier time, but for now evenings it is.

Overall, I would say that my morning routine allows me to focus on myself. Self-care is an important part of my well-being, but I still struggle with the "mommy-guilt" when I put myself first. Now that my children are older, "mommy-guilt" is slowly disappearing and it's being replaced with "why the &%$# did I want kids." But occasionally I see the markings in my journal with "Mome, I luv you," and I am reminded that my kids are watching how I navigate the world and I can only hope that they give themselves permission when they have kids to take care of themselves.

The Reality of Having a Child with ADHD

My child was recently diagnosed with ADHD. It wasn't a surprise that she has it. After all, her dad does.

What is a surprise is how little I know about it, even though I am an educator. What is a surprise is how wearing it is on the person that doesn't have it. What is a surprise is how the mantra of the "way" of the magnet school that she attended this past year, is "I am kind. I am calm. I am a listener. I believe I can, I know I can," and we live it at home - until I completely lose my shit.

It's hard. It's hard because I've been on my own for two months at night. It's hard because the level of severe ADHD is high. It's hard because I am not sure how I should interact with my daughter. I know that I am the best mom for her, but for the love of God, I am exhausted.

VOTE!

I took my kids to a political rally last weekend. It was a spontaneous adventure and they were, of course, bored. However, I want them to know that if they want to see change in the world, they have to do things like attend political rallies and vote in elections that aren't as publicized as presidential elections. I hope that I raise them to see things from a viewpoint of understanding. We're lacking that in politics, especially right now.

The US 2016 presidential election proved that we are a divided nation. There were so many people that chose not to exercise their right to vote that it is appalling. I have voted in almost every election that I have been able to since I was 18. Sometimes I wasn't well informed. Other times, I voted simply to switch things up. But, I exercised my right to vote and I applaud everyone else who has done the same. It's not always easy to find time to vote in the smaller elections, but they are more critical at establishing change than the national elections. When was the last time that you voted in a school board election or a city council election that wasn't at the same time as a presidential election?

In 2016, after someone telling me, "I probably voted for a headache," I wondered if there was any way that the other person would ever see my point of view when it came to politics. The answer was that even if you try to be well-informed, you are going to have to fight the algorithms designed to feed your already held beliefs and not challenge yourself. You may think that you're being informed, but until you actively suck it up and see what Fox News is saying if you're left-leaning or actively suck it up and see what MSNBC is saying if you're right-leaning, are you truly well-informed?
You can't be well informed if your source of news only comes from one source. Every media outlet uses context, audience, and purpose to deliver their message. News from organizations that typically have a left-leaning audience will cater to that audience. News from organizations that typically have a right-leaning audience will cater to that audience.

Let's agree that we will be politically active. We will exercise our right to vote - especially in the lower-turnout elections. Let's start being the change in our world and once we do that, we can change the world.