The Problem With The Christmas Spirit

Sometimes I feel like a broken record when I talk.  "Blah, blah, blah.  Skip.  Blah, blah, blah.  Skip. Blah, blah, blah."  I'm sure my husband and children would agree with that statement too.  "Put my dirty clothes where?  Do what with the garbage?  Pick up my what when I'm done?"  While those things are annoying, more so on some days than others, in the grand scheme of life, they don't mean all that much (except that no one is listening to me).  Maybe it's a coping skill that they have developed to save their ears from repeated exposure to the same frequencies.  Perhaps my nagging is killing the little hairs inside their ears.  Too much drama?  Yeah, maybe just a little.

Sometimes, I feel like my repeated rants about the lack of respect given to those who are struggling with poverty are viewed in the same light.  Don't you worry, though.  I'm not discouraged enough to give up.  Much like I continue to rant about putting dirty laundry in the laundry basket (it's so aptly named, isn't it?  I don't understand the difficulty in understanding its purpose), I will continue to campaign for respect of the poor.  

Last week, someone in my own family asked how she could help a struggling family this holiday season.  At this point, most of the warm clothing efforts are done, or are wrapping up.  I don't personally know of anyone who needs specific items, but I do know that our Head Start kiddos will have their names on the Angel Tree at the Olive Garden starting on Black Friday.  (Yes, there's a plug here ~ go get a tag and buy a needy kid a gift, if you can.)  When I told her about the Angel Tree, her response was something to the effect of, "If I do that, I'm not just going to be buying a gift for some low-life who's sitting around smoking dope and not working, am I?"  Awesome response.   Just awesome.  I bet you can imagine my answer.  Then, the very next day, I had a discussion with another family member who a little more articulately stated a very common "American Dream" opinion; that people need to just buck-up, go to work, and earn a better life for themselves.

The American Dream is a great one, except for the fact that it doesn't exist anymore.  In fact, I would argue that the American Dream is truly the American Nightmare.  It's practically impossible to achieve, and it leaves those who try feeling inadequate, discouraged, beaten down and unvalued.  It screams at those who can't make it, "You suck! You're worthless."

Now, it's getting upon the Christmas season, when people start feeling all lovey-dovey towards one another (except maybe at the mall on Black Friday when you all want the same new iMixer apparatus that checks your email, buys the rest of your Christmas gifts online, and streams music all while beating the cake batter for Jesus' birthday celebration.)  This time of year, people act a little nicer to each other.  We try to be more understanding of each other's struggles.  We want to give more, be more, do more.  I love that about Christmas, as do many people.  Arguably, it's one of the reasons why people get into the "Christmas spirit" so early.  They can't wait to experience that universal connection to one another, the warmth they feel when they experience the generosity of others and likewise the endearment they feel when they themselves give.  It's quite awesome indeed, but here's the problem with it:  it's conditional and it's doesn't last.

Without pulling a religious straw on you, I ask you to reflect for just one moment on how your God (whatever divine being you believe in) would feel about this conditional Christmas spirit.  Are we told to love each other only from the last Thursday in November to December 26th?  I could be wrong, but I don't think that's how it's supposed to work.   Reality is that this issue isn't even about religion.  It can be, if that's what suits you best.  If you find guidance in your religion, and that's what leads you to treating others better, then great.  I will argue, though, that atheists can be good people too.  You don't have to believe in a higher power to believe in respecting others. You just have to be able to put yourself in someone else's shoes.

I urge you to read this blog.  (Click the word "blog.") It's a first-hand experience about what it's like to be poor.  It's an awesomely raw and honest depiction of the thought processes and motivation of one woman who is facing the struggles of poverty.  While you read it, put yourself in her shoes.  Really think about what she is saying and why.  It's not as easy at the words "American Dream" make it sound.  In fact, it's ridiculously hard.  It's a series of set-backs and disappointments.  It's hurdle after hurdle after hurdle, which in turn lead to their own specific repercussions, so that what you have isn't solved by laying out a plan, buckling down and sticking with it to reach a goal, but is rather a huge jumbled mess of one catastrophe after another.  Then to top it off, everywhere you go, you are met with the judging eyes of those who did better, who knew better, who are better.

Don't read this and think, "Oh, not me.  I'm not judgmental like that."  Bullshit.  Yes you are.  And so am I.  We all are sometimes.  We are all guilty of wrinkling our noses when someone who reeks of cigarette smoke and fried food wanders close to us in the grocery store.  We are all guilty of mentally critiquing the mom who is berating her children for some seemingly insignificant infraction when we don't know the details of what brought her to that point.  We don't know how many times she asked them to stop before she snapped.  We don't know what kind of day she had.  If she had a flat tire that she can't afford to fix, so now she has no transportation, which means that she is going to lose her job, the job that took her months to find in this awful economy, the job that pays the rent and buys the shoes on her children's constantly growing feet, and pays for the groceries that are increasingly more expensive.  Oh, and now that the Farm Bill was passed, her food stamps were cut, which means that more of the grocery expenses need to come out of her pocket, a pocket which is now emptier than before because she had a flat and lost her job.  Do you know how it feels to have your life so tightly balanced that one seemingly small event can send your entire world plummeting into chaotic crisis?  Some of you do.  I certainly don't.  I can only imagine.  But that's the beauty of human thoughts and emotions.  We can imagine.  We can empathize.

Do you want to know how you can help?  The first and most important step is to open your heart.  And by heart, I don't necessarily mean wallet.  It's great if you are financially sound enough to buy something for a needy child, to give food to the food banks or to donate to a favorite charity, but those are only temporary fixes to a very large and long-standing problem.  More important is that you open your hearts and minds to life-long understanding, empathy and advocacy for the people who struggle.  When you catch yourself judging, feeling like "I struggle and I make good choices to correct my problems," or "I make choices that don't put me in those circumstances in the first place," consider for just a moment that even making "good" choices won't help, won't matter in the long run.  Look at life through the eyes of others, for just a moment, and correct your judgements, imagine how you would hope to be treated if you were that woman, how one act of understanding could make you feel, at least for a moment, that you are valued, that your life has worth.  No, empathy isn't going to solve the problems of the poor.  It isn't going to pay the rent or buy food or find affordable child care.  But it will erase the stereotypes.  It will squelch some of the hatred that people who live in poverty face on a daily basis, and it will connect you with others on a very human level.

I'm not saying that I agree with all of the liberal politics regarding the public welfare system. Nor am I  denying the need for a very different system than we are currently employing.  I'm also not claiming to have the answers to fix the problem of poverty in our country.  In fact, I don't know that it can be completely fixed.  These are all very real and very pertinent concerns, but they are a discussion for another day.  Today I'm not talking about politics or policies at all.  I'm talking about compassion, empathy, the Golden Rule.  Do unto others, but don't just do it during the Christmas season.  Do it every day, all year long.  Open your hearts, be grateful for your own blessings, and pay them forward.  I think you'll find that it is a gift that keeps on giving, not just to those in need, but to ourselves as well.

Getting Back on the Gratitude Wagon!

It appears that I fell of the grateful bandwagon!  Really, I haven't.  I have continued to spend time each day reflecting on my blessings and being thankful.  I just haven't spent much time typing about them.  For one, I kind of burned myself out in the beginning.  I wrote about everything big and then I lost my creativity.  Also, I got tired of spending every morning feeling like I had to blog.  When something fun feels like a burden, then it's time to step away.  So that's what I did.  I don't think anyone even noticed.  Or if they did, no one said anything! 

Today I'm going to tell you about my day filled with gratitude yesterday.  In the morning I was super productive and got a ton of housework done before 930!  Then Andrew and I went to the mall and almost completely finished Christmas shopping.  I have 6 gifts to go, and they are specific gifts that I just have to grab and wrap!  I feel so relieved!  I am not a huge shopping fan, and I am clearly also not very seasoned.  I wished Andrew was still in a stroller, so I could have pushed around all those bags instead of trying to carry them!  Or, I wished I had been smart enough to bring a few canvas bags that I could have thrown over my shoulders.  All that lugging made us both (Andrew carried nothing, by the way) grateful for the massage chairs.  3 minutes for a buck was well worth it! 

Look at those feet!  He's like a lab puppy, sure to be really tall once he reaches adulthood! 

Andrew wouldn't talk to Santa.  He said he already wrote his list.  He was initially interested in the train, but then changed his mind.  I didn't push it.  He was just as happy to analyze Santa's layout from the second level.  We also stopped at the photo booth and had a strip of pictures taken.  I'm not going to reflect on how bad I looked.  I'm focusing on what fun it was.  It really was a fun time with Andrew! 

When we got home, we made chocolate chip cookies.  It was his idea.  He loves to help me bake, and he's too young to realize that I actually suck at baking, so I gladly oblige most of the time!  We didn't do too bad of a job yesterday, actually.  I didn't burn any of the cookies.  Some of them were a little crispy, but none were hard enough to be used as  weapon, which is typically the case with me and cookies.  They were all palatable, so I'm calling it a success! 

Now that's an awesome plate of cookies! 

Even the cat helped, in a way that only cat could...by lounging on my counters and mentally critiquing my every move. 

"You're doing it wrong.  It's apparent that you know nothing about baking cookies."  

We also made a telephone from plastic cups and string, and it actually worked!  Every experience I had with them as a child was disappointing, but Andrew and I were both equally impressed yesterday!  As a bonus, it doubled (tripled?) as a limbo string and a zip line for Spider Man! 

All in all, it was a very nice way to spend a winter day, a great way to prep for the cold that's coming!  And for those of you who were grossed out by my cat-on-the-counter pictures, well, you are clearly not cat owners, and you obviously don't know that everything tastes better with cat hair in it.   This is a lesson cat owners learn very early on...that, and to keep the Lysol close! 

Fall Family Fun

I don't about the rest of the country, but in our neck of the woods the weather on Saturday was gorgeous!  It was 65 degrees and sunny for most of the day.  Of course, we took advantage of the temperate reprieve.  Andrew and I worked in the yard for about 4 hours in the morning.  In the afternoon, my sister and my nieces came for a visit, and we took the kids to a local park.  The cousins had a good time playing together, and were all grateful for sunshine and a soft warm breeze in the middle of November.  If we could just bottle that weather...

Andrew and Ella climb the dome.

OK, Andrew climbed it, and Ella sat prettily at the bottom. 

Someone this cute, doesn't need to do tricks! 

My little monkey, on the other hand....

This is his "showing me his butt" pose.  Lovely, right? 

And then a genuine smile, right before...

...he just dropped his legs down and let go of the bars!  I nearly had a heart attack!  He has no fear! 

Jake and Andrew went on a brotherly expedition for copper, their newest "get rich quick" scheme.  If you hear of any copper thefts, please don't look my way!  It's not fair to ask a mother to turn in her own sons! 

Hams, for sure!

Hope everyone had a great weekend and was able to soak up the sunshine like we were.  The days are getting shorter, and the air is getting colder, so grab onto the light and the warmth while you can!  

Orange You Happy For Me?

Yesterday marked the 6th day in a row that Andrew was on the highest level of the behavior chart at school!  I'm sure most of you already know how hard it's been for him to control his sillies at school this year, so 6 days is a HUGE accomplishment!  We celebrated by making a tie dye cake together.  I'm grateful for any day that he makes it all the way to the top of the chart, and I'm beyond grateful for 6 days in a row.  Here's to my little guy, to his overflowing personality, and to all his hard work the last few weeks! 

(Oh, and orange is the color on the top level, in case you are wondering what the title means!) 

A tad more complicated (and messy) than a traditional cake! 

But also much prettier! 

Congratulations to my little wild child!  

6 Questions

While I was searching for some pictures and quotes about gratitude, I came across a web page that gave "17 gratitude prompting questions."  I felt like answering every single question was a bit much, so I picked 6.  To view the whole article, click here.  To read my responses, just scroll down!  ;)  

1. Who do I appreciate?
• You already know the usual suspects and the reasons I am grateful for the people I have already written about, like my parents, Greg and my children.  They are the souls that make my life rich, but since I've already written about them, time and time again, allow me this opportunity to put someone else in the limelight.
• I'm grateful for my childhood best friend, Jackie.  Jackie and I met in 5th grade, and we were actually rivals for a short while after we met.  We were both vying for the attention of a mutual friend who, not surprisingly, had plenty of room in her heart for both of us.  Eventually, Jackie and I put our differences aside and began a friendship that has been going strong for 25 years now.  We've known each other for more years than we didn't know each other.  Jackie is like a sister to me, as is her family.  We don't always talk that often at this point in our lives.  She lives in another state, and between the kids and jobs, our free time to connect with one another is limited.  But I hope she knows that despite the fact that we only see each other briefly once or twice a year, and probably talk just about as often, Jackie is never far from my mind.  Jackie is an amazing source of inspiration to me.  Not only has she been through every emotional roller coaster that I have thrown her way, but she has also ridden some remarkable rides herself too. Jackie's son is just one year younger than Andrew.  In the middle of her pregnancy, which was a harrowing experience in and of itself, she was told that Sean had Dandy Walker Syndrome (read about Dandy Walker here), and that the possibility of him surviving after birth was uncertain.  A woman of strong faith, she continued with the pregnancy and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy in June of 2009.  He is an amazing little man, and she is an amazing mother.  I don't know if she knows how much credit she deserves for parenting him as she does.  She is incredibly patient, giving and dedicated. Her love for him is reflected in his sweet smile and loving personality.  She's faced her share of struggles, and I know that she hasn't always felt very strong, but to me, she is a woman to be admired.  She is beautiful, tenacious and faithful, and I am blessed to call her my friend! 
2. What material possessions am I thankful for?
• Our house.  I love our house.
• The pontoon boat.  There aren't many places I'd rather be in the summer than on the pontoon boat.
• My grandmother's ring.  It touched her skin while she was living and I am grateful every day to have it touch mine.
• My kitchen table.  It was the first piece of furniture that my parents bought together, and the chairs belonged to my grandmother.  When my mom and dad got married, my mom stripped the chairs and stained them to match the table.  It's nothing fancy, but I love the whole set!
3. What experiences have I had that I am grateful for?
• Travel abroad has been something that has truly shaped my life.  I spent the summer after 7th grade in Germany with my aunt and uncle.  It sparked my interest in German, and I was also able to be there for the birth of my twin cousins, Erin and Caitlin.  I was the first family member besides their parents to see them! 
• I studied abroad in Germany my junior year, and was able to travel through England and Ireland with my mom before the semester started.  While I was studying, we took the train all over Europe - Brussels, Amsterdam, Paris, Milan, Florence, Prague, Berlin.  It was a life shaping experience with some of the most wonderful people I have ever known.  I am blessed to have had that semester abroad, and I am even more blessed to have met the friends I still love and cherish today! 
• I also visited Hamburg and Vienna on two other trips abroad.  So beautiful! 
4. What opportunities do I have that I am thankful for?
• Every day I have the opportunity to live my life as I see fit.  No one is dictating my choices.  No one is telling me what to believe, how to dress, what to eat, who to marry.  I'm grateful for my freedom.  I would hate to know what it's like to live without it.  
5. What is different today than it was a year ago that I’m thankful for?
• This time last year, my dad's health was so poor that we were certain that we were celebrating our last Christmas together.  Additionally, my parents had just purchased their new home, and I was struggling tremendously with the anticipated loss of my homestead. From November through March of last year, I think that all of us felt uncertain about the future, sad about the past, and weary in the present.   At this point, a year later, my parents are happy and content in their new home.  We all think about and miss the house on Spruce Street from time to time, but the anticipation of the move proved to be much harder than the reality.  The reality is that home is where your heart is, and our hearts are together regardless of physical location.  Also, my dad's health also took a turn for the better in the late spring.  He went to the beach with us for the first time in several years, and he even felt well enough to for them to travel to Scotland for two weeks with my aunt and uncle in September.  We don't know how long his health will continue to be stable.  The fact remains that he has terminal cancer, and we all know that  this good spell will eventually come to an end.  But in the meantime, I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that we are grateful for his health, for the opportunity to spend another holiday together, and for the blessing of family.  
6. What insights have I gained that I am grateful for?
• I am grateful that I have struggled in my life.  The struggles have enabled me to be compassionate with others who are struggling.  They have shown me just how strong I really am, and have taught me that even the worst storm will pass.  I am grateful that I have not let strife blemish me, but have rather been able to see personal growth in each struggle I have endured.   Every hurdle has been a lesson for myself about myself, and I am grateful for those personal insights.  I am also grateful that I have learned just how important gratitude is. Gratitude makes everything better.  It makes the bad times bearable and the good times sweeter.  I believe that the energy we put out into the world comes back to us one way or another.  Negativity just breeds more negativity.  Appreciation of life's blessings may not generate more physical blessings, but it certainly magnifies our awareness of the good that surrounds us all.  There's not a person alive who couldn't benefit from more gratitude! Gratitude turns what you have into enough.  It is the open door  to abundance, and I hope its bounty finds you all! 

Exercises In Gratitude

Yesterday I had a conversation with the director of my program.  We were actually talking about a bulletin board and some ideas she had for it, but we ended up touching on gratitude, what it means to us and how easy it is to lose sight of our own blessings and to forget that others may not have the same resources and emotional stores and support that we have.  It was a brief conversation, but it was good.  Of course, she hit on something near and dear to me, so I was excited to talk about ways that we could possibly help others increase gratitude...even if it's through as simple as through a bulletin board.  Sometimes the simple things are the best.  Just seeing and experiencing other people's gratitude often creates the spark needed to fuel my own feelings of thanks.  I handed my bulletin board ideas over to the director, and she can choose to use them or not.  I was just happy to have the conversation.  It's always exciting to find someone who is passionate about the same things I am.  In the meantime, I can share whatever I want with you all, so today you are getting a quick list of things I do to help myself be more aware of and appreciative of my blessings.  Maybe something will resonate with you too!

• Keep a daily journal.  There doesn't have to be any rhyme or reason to it.  Just do whatever works for you. Every day, write down things, people, memories, etc. in your life that make you happy. 
• Make grateful gifts.  One year, I had the boys dictate things about Greg that they loved to me.  I wrote down everything they said on individual slips of paper, and then added a number of my own.  I folded them all in half, and put them into a jar labeled "Reasons We Love Dad."  He had a slip to read every day for several months!
• Along those same lines, one year for Father's Day, my sisters and I each wrote down a number of happy memories we had of my dad.  We put them into a box decorated with old family photos and sayings about love and family.  He was supposed to open one each day, but he confessed that he read them all in one sitting! I would have done the same! 
• Practice empathy.  Really, it sounds simple, but it something that we all forget to do from time to time.  Whenever you feel yourself becoming frustrated with someone else for any reason, think - really think - about how they are feeling.  What's going on in that person's life?  What could be going on that you don't know about?  Do they understand what your frustrations are?  What is their true intent?  I have found this to be especially helpful with my kids.  I tend to forget that they don't know the same details I do, or don't have the same reasoning skills that I do.  Putting myself in their shoes helps me to revaluate both my approach and my reactions to them.  A little empathy goes a long way!
• Be in the moment.  It always seems like I have so much to do and so little time in which to do it. As the boys get older and are now in activities, and having play dates, and more homework it feels like the list of responsibilities in my life is endless...and perpetual!  Didn't I just finish the laundry? The dishwasher is full again???  How many times a day does that cat poop?!?  It's ok if those things aren't always completely done by x o'clock.  I don't have to get into bed by 930.  A few hours less sleep will not kill me.  It's ok if sometimes I skip a day with the laundry.  The laundry will be there tomorrow, but the time with the people I love may not be.  I have been focusing on softening my focus on the chores in life and sharpening it on what matters.  Making time for relaxation and being truly present in the moment isn't always the easiest thing for me to do, but it reaps great rewards! 
• Start each day with a quick prayer of thanks.  That one is pretty self explanatory. 
• Be helpful.  I pray daily to both see need in others and to know how to help.  It's human nature to be selfish.  That's how we survived eons ago, and its something that, like it or not, we all have to fight to reverse within ourselves.  It's easy to run through life focused on our own needs and completely miss the fact that someone else could use our assistance.  For some people, being generous and selfless is easy.  Others struggle quite a bit.  I'm somewhere in the middle.  Usually, I know when I am acting or have acted selfishly.  What I struggle with are those times when I am aware of someone's need, but have no idea what I can do to help.  I suppose I will get better at that with time and practice.  In the meantime, I try to do little things (or big, if the case may be) to help when I can.  Helping someone, engaging in random acts of kindness to for those we know and for strangers alike, are instant gratitude boosters.  They are an easy way to make someone else and yourself happy! 

So that's my basic strategy.  It's not very exciting, but it is very powerful.    

"We are not grateful because we're happy, rather we're happy because we're grateful." ~ 

Betty Mahalik

Be grateful today, and be happy!  

Thank Goodness For Toilet Paper

As I got out of bed this morning, my first thought was that I was drawing a blank on grateful blog entries.  I have hit all the biggies - my parents, my kids, my husband, my friends.  I only have so much creativity, and this morning I kind of felt like the blog was draining me a little, which is the complete opposite of what I intended.  The truth is that I am grateful many things every day many times over, but I couldn't think of anything blog-worthy.  The big things are great.  They are invaluable, and my heart genuinely beats each day for the big things.  But in reality, the little things, though seemingly inconsequential, are just as important to recognize.  My world would not end without any of the things I am going to mention, but my world is a heck of a lot nicer with them, and I appreciate that!  This may not be the deepest blog entry ever, but it's sincere nonetheless.  So, without further adieu, here's what I am grateful for on a daily basis:

• My robe and slippers.  This house is stinkin' cold in the morning, and I'm grateful I have something soft and fuzzy to ease me out of bed and into my day! 
• The new alarm sounds on my iPhone.   I don't care for most of the newest iPhone update, but I do like the chime alarm.  My grandmother always had wind chimes, and my mom has them hanging all around her house too.  The sound is soft and comforting, and is a much easier wake-up call than any other alarm I have ever had. 
• Coffee.  Since I am on the topic of mornings, I can't forget coffee.  
  
• Cat litter.  Seriously, can you imagine trying to train a cat to go outside?  I sure can't!  I'm glad we have a little box (and that ours is also conveniently outside) so that we can have our snugly little furry family member.
• Soap.  Can you imagine what this world would smell like without soap?  Bet you think about your own appreciation of soap next time you wash your hands. 
• Deodorant - see above.
• Toothpaste.  Again, see above.   
• Q-Tips.  You know those times when you forget to pack Q-tips in your over night bag and your ears itch from the water left behind after a shower?  Ugh.  Gotta have 'em. 
• Motrin.  Runner's knee.  Enough said. 
• Indoor plumbing and its accessories (toilet paper, would be a big one here).  Also needs no explanation. 
  
  I rest my case.
  
  
• OK, I'm grateful for pretty much every health and beauty product and/or luxury.  
• Texting-tipped gloves.  How cool are they?! 
• Music.  I am touched by music over and over every day.  Whether its an old familiar song or a new tune, listening or actively participating, music never fails to move me. 
• Gasoline.  Think about how much you rely on gasoline.  Yeah, its value is reflected in its price.  I'm grateful for it! 
• Eyelashes.  They keep a lot of gunk out of one of our most sensitive body parts.  And we'd be pretty freaky looking without them, don't you think?
• Baking soda and vinegar.  They are two easy, cheap and non-toxic household cleaners that I use in varying forms every day.  Plus, throw in some food coloring and they're a super cool and frugal activity for the kids too! 

Chia seeds.  I know I haven't said much about chia seeds lately, but my love for them has not died.  I'm just as dedicated to them today as I was when we first met.  Cha-cha-cha-chia! 

I totally need one of these for Christmas!

• Grumpy Cat.  www.Icanhascheezburger.com.  Heck, any Internet cat meme! I love cats! 

• Socks.  Blisters.  Freezing toes.  Stinking feet.  You get the point.
• Bras.  I know many women complain about them, but can you imagine a world without them?  Running?  Ouch! And although it may be sexy on a perky, 20-something body, going without is not so sexy on an elderly grandmotherly body.  

I could go on, but I'm out of time.  I'm also grateful for the fact that I have a job, and I need to get there at a reasonable hour!  Maybe here is when I should mention that I am grateful for my lovely boss, who puts up with a lot of crap from me!

She's especially tolerant of my lame jokes.  

What's on your daily gratitude list? There are lots and lots of things I have left out.  Do you have anything Unconventional that makes you happy?  Share!  After all, "silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone." ~ Gladys Stern

Gratefully Letting Go

When I was born I was blessed with two mothers.  I had my mom who, faced with an unexpected pregnancy, transformed herself immediately from a carefree, partying teenager to a mature and responsible adult.  I also had my grandmother who, much like my own mother did when I was pregnant with Jacob, took her daughter and granddaughter under her wings and provided the stability and guidance needed to raise a child. Throughout my early childhood, my grandmother was truly my security.  She was often the only constant in a whirlwind of upheaval and uncertainty.  She was my best friend, my biggest supporter, my guardian angel.

When I was 10, things settled for my mom.  She married the man I have called my dad for 25 years. Together they were able to give us the balance that she alone could not provide.  We moved out of my grandmother's home to start a new life as a "normal" family unit.  Shortly after my mom married my dad, my grandmother was diagnosed with terminal colon cancer.  I can still remember the day my mother told me of my grandmother's illness.  I can see my mom sitting next to me.  I can hear myself ask, "Is she going to die?"  I couldn't see it then, but looking back, I can only imagine the anguish that my mother felt speaking those words to me, knowing just how important my grandmother was to me, as she struggled to keep her own heartache contained.  It was a long illness, and my mother spent every day of it caring for my grandmother, easing her own mother to her death.  While school was still in session, my mom would pick us up in the afternoon and take us to my grandparents' house where we would spend the evenings.   In the summer, we spent the entire day at their house.  I was 11 when she died, and while my heart broke in its 11 year old way, I did not have the capacity to fully understand the meaning behind what had happened.  I did not see the sorrowful strength that my mother exhibited every day.  I did not understand the pain in my grandmother's eyes as she said goodbye to her life.  I only knew that a time was coming to an end.

Initially,  I entered a state more of denial than of grief.  I did not fully grasp the enormity of losing my grandmother until further into my adolescence.  As I reached my teenage years and then beyond, the fact that I had lost not just a grandmother, but also in many ways a mother, took a terrible toll on me.  I felt the magnitude of her absence incrementally more with each passing milestone, and the loss of her became, in many ways, how I defined myself.  I thought that everything would be better if she had lived.  I thought that I had done something to cause God to take her.  I felt like I didn't deserve to enjoy my life.  Over time, I developed a huge problem with depression.  I obsessed over finding perfection to make amends for a sin that I couldn't quite recall making.  I developed an eating disorder that plagued me, in varying degrees, for 24 years.   I felt shame for the convoluted coping mechanisms that I had employed.  I felt like if I could just see her, talk to her one more time, I would be OK, but part of me was afraid for her to see what I had become.

No one builds a sandcastle better than your grandmother! 

I get my sweet tooth honestly! 

Perhaps a love of wine is also genetic??? 

It wasn't until just recently that I realized I had spent the last 25 years living in fear.   I always knew that I was depressed, but now that I look back, I see that it was not truly sadness that kept me down.  It was uncertainty, fear of the unknown.   I was afraid to stop suffering.  I had spent so much of my time and energy creating a world that was so full of negativity, self-depreciation and grief that I could not fathom what it meant to live any other way.  Even when life was seemingly good, sorrow always loomed quietly in the background.  I was always dully aware of its presence, and I always knew that some day I would allow it to completely destroy me.   I gave up trying to get rid of my demons, and instead simply resigned myself to living with them.  I got tired of fighting.  It was easier to just make nice with heartache.  It sounds so terrible to me now, to have such an outlook, but it didn't feel so terrible then.  It was just a matter of fact.  It wasn't that I didn't want to be happy and balanced.  In fact, I wanted nothing more than to be those things, but I couldn't imagine who I was outside of sorrow.   The prospect of myself as mentally clean and healthy was so foreign that it was monumentally daunting.   I wasn't only afraid of changing my self-concept.  I was also afraid that if I let go of the grief I had been carrying, I would likewise be letting go of my grandmother. That was a betrayal that I could not allow myself to commit, and so in my warped perception, I carried the burden not just because of a distorted ego, but also out of a distorted vision of loyalty.

"Suffering is necessary until you realize it is unnecessary."  These words have rung over and over in my head since the day I first read them months ago.  How true they are!  It was not these words that brought peace to my soul, however.  A chain of events which started around this time last year and culminated over the summer lead to a marked shift in my thinking process.  I had already begun to make small changes over the summer, and then one day when I was at the beach with friends in September, I swear that God spoke directly to me.  No, I didn't hear a voice, but I may as well have.  

It started as a very typical morning for me.  I woke up before everyone else, and started the coffee.  I drank my chia seeds in water, just like every other day.  When the coffee was ready, I poured myself a cup, and sat down on the couch in a pitch black room.  I was going to surf through Facebook while I nursed my coffee, but then I thought, "This is silly.  I'm at the beach!  I should watch the sunrise."  So I filled my friend's travel coffee mug and walked to the beach to watch the sun rise.  I sat alone on the beach for close to two hours and watched as the sun crept slowly above the horizon and into the morning sky.  It was beyond beautiful.  It was remarkable.  As I sat there, I was filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude - for what specifically, I don't know.  For everything, I guess.  For the many blessings of my life, for my family, for my friends, for the opportunity to sit alone and watch the sunrise.  I don't know that I had any true thoughts that morning, I just remember what I felt.  I cried - no I sobbed - for almost the entire two hours, until I had no more tears.  I was joyfully exhausted.  Maybe someone else was sitting on the beach watching the same sun that day, but as far as I'm concerned that particular sunrise was a gift from God just for me.  I have been told that my grandmother is with me, that she whispers to me every day, but I never felt her myself until that moment.  That day on the beach, I'm sure she sat beside me and that we watched the sunrise together.  She did not have to whisper to me on that morning.  I felt her love all around me, and I let go of the guilt.  I let go of the sorrow, and I vowed to change my self-destructive thought patterns.  It's a work in progress, but so far, so good.   

This is just the beginning for me.  I am very much a novice when it comes to letting go.  It is my nature to plan and control, not to sit back and enjoy the ride.   At times, I find myself jumping ahead of myself.  I become over-eager and scold myself for not being more seasoned, wiser, calmer, more intuitive.  I get impatient with my impatience.  I want to be in a state of total Zen right now.  But that's not how it works, and those are precisely the traits I am trying to change.  Peace is not forced, it's learned, and I am learning. When I take the time to narrow my focus into more comprehensible pieces, I find that the learning process is in and of itself a blessing.  Because I am so new and so eager, every door is open to me.  I am not yet jaded.  I am not burned out or fettered by the limitations of my beliefs.  I don't have to be the best.  I don't have to be perfect.  I only have to try, and I am standing with my arms wide open.

Sometimes I am a slow learner.  It took me darned close to my entire life to figure out that letting go does not mean forgetting.  It does not mean erasing a bond, and it certainly does not mean betrayal.  Letting go isn't something to be feared.  It can actually be a source of great comfort.  It means that the responsibility of the world's problems do not lie solely on my shoulders, but will instead be handled by God.  I only need to know that I have acted with love and compassion, and that I have done my best.  It means being at peace with knowing that the way things happen are God's will.  Whether I understand them or like them is irrelevant.  It is not up to me to decide when or what thing should happen.  It's only up to me to trust that God does what is for the best.  

Part of me realizes that it is easy for me to embrace this attitude at a time when things in my life are going relatively smoothly.  Perhaps I should not count my chickens before they hatch, so to speak.  What if I am not able to carry this outlook with me when storms approach?  Where will I be then?  But the other part of me has learned two things.  1.  Historically, even when life was serene,  tranquility still managed to escape me because of my inner turmoil.  The fact that I have sensed such a change, and feel such a turn around in myself is significant and should not be dismissed.  2.  It is a blessing that these lessons are being learned now, when the emotional need for them is low.  Now is the time for me to practice changing my attitude, to build tolerance and endurance, much like training for a marathon, so that when the time comes, as I know it surely will, I will be better prepared to handle adversity in stride.  I will be prepared to let go.  

I'm beyond thankful for my grandmother.  I'm grateful for the 11 years that I spent wrapped in her security, and for the moments she stood beside me holding my hand.  I'm grateful for the gentle whispers of encouragement she sends from Heaven, telling me to never underestimate my own value or ability.  After all, only someone very special can pull off an outfit like mine, and I was never more special to anyone than I was to my gram.  

For Better Or Worse

I couldn't go through 30 days of gratitude without an entry about my husband.  Last year I wrote about Greg's sexiest body part.  If you haven't read it, you can check it out by clicking  here.  My feelings haven't changed one bit.  This year, in sticking with the general style of posts so far, I decided to be a little more general.  Let me start by telling you the things that annoy me most about Greg.  

• He enthusiastically starts project after project in our house, and then stops when it is about 95% done, so that he can move on to another project.  (See previous blog referrals to the unfinished front porch steps and the black tarp on the back half of my house.) 

• He talks so loudly on the phone that no one within a 3 mile radius can hear anything except his conversation.  He also flails his arms and points his finger emphatically throughout every phone conversation, because doing so will clearly help the person on the other end will better understand his point.   He uses the same tactic to encourage the Steelers to play better.   He gets about the same results in both scenarios.  
• He never replaces the paper towel roll on the kitchen counter.  (He will argue that he does, but don't listen to him.  He has a skewed perception of his paper toweling ability.)
• He's too smart to mess up the main part of our house, but he's terrible about putting his stuff away in the areas that are "his."  (i.e. the game room, the utility room, the back yard)  Once a year, he decides that he is going to "organize" everything and spends an entire day re-doing all of the work that he could have avoided had he just put stuff back where he got it after the last time he organized everything.  BUT...he says he knows where everything is!  

This should read "Greg brings a certain amount of order to being disorderly!" 

• He takes his lunch to work in Tupperware containers.  He leaves the Tupperware at work until every single piece of plastic in the house is gone and then he brings home an entire dishwasher full of portable plastic bowls.
• He does the same thing with coffee mugs.
• He snores - quite loudly at times.

I could go on, but you get the point. 

Why would I have spent time slamming my husband on a blog that is dedicated to gratitude?  Here's why: I can easily create a list ten times as long of things about Greg that I adore, but when I married him, I didn't just marry the fun and adorable parts of him.  I married all of him.  Everyone who knows Greg would agree that he oozes goodness - and not in a prudish kind of way, but rather in a very genuinely happy, enthusiastic and embracing kind of way.  While I'm pretty sure that everyone sees the good in Greg, not everyone sees those little things that annoy the shit out of me.  That's the beauty in those little pet peeves between us.  They are our intimacies, good, bad and indifferent.  It's not that they are private by any means, but rather that they are the parts of our relationship that make it unique, that only we can fully appreciate, and that we share completely and lovingly together.  Those little intimacies are the diamonds of our marriage, the gems that only we together as a couple cherish.  I may complain about the projects that are only 95% complete.  I may poke fun at his lack of volume control, or his inability to move the fingers on one hand without wiggling the fingers on the other.  It is really pretty funny, but I'm doing it with love.  When I look at him, even in the midst of our worst fights, I love him.  I love everything about him.  As Hunter Hayes says, "Every little imperfection only makes you, you." 

 I didn't know it at the time, but marrying Greg was the best decision I ever made.  I never truly understood the concept of love growing bigger each day until I had children and married Greg.  It's true.  "I love [him] more today than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow."  What an awesome promise to know that love even greater than we have ever known is just waiting for us to experience as the years progress! 

It really bothers me when people say, "A good marriage takes work."  Work has such a negative overtone. Work is about tasks that must be done whether you want to or not.  Work is the muck you have to get through to get to the good stuff.  Work = yuck.   I'm not saying that a good marriage happens by accident or that a good marriage never has trials, but I would never call what I put into my marriage work.  I love Greg. I love spending time with him.  I love listening to him, even when the words he says may not be exactly what I want to hear.  Maintaining a good marriage doesn't take work, it takes intent.  It takes two people who purposefully focus on one another, who take joy in seeing each other happy, who invest in each other's interests, who love, support and encourage one another, and most of all, who can see, remember, and remind each other about the million reasons why they are together in the first place when the sailing isn't so smooth.  (Like when that black tarp on the back porch is flapping so loudly in the wind that I can't concentrate on writing my blog!) 

I am grateful for my marriage every day.  Greg is my knight is shining armor, my good karma reward, my comfort not just at the end of the day, but the whole day through.  I love you, Greg.  Today and every day, I am grateful for YOU!    

The Mother Of The Year Award Goes To...

When I was in early elementary school, I packed my own lunches.  My mom was busy working all kinds of shift work, and my grandmother, well, I actually don't know what the heck she was doing, but she never packed my lunch.  An 8 year old cannot be trusted to make healthy lunch choices.  A typical lunch for me was a thermos full of water, a Tupperware container of marshmallow cream, some graham crackers and a Little Debbie cake.  I wasn't the healthiest second grader in the school, but at lunch time, I was certainly the happiest!  My mom hates that story.  When I was younger, she would practically throw her hand over my mouth and wrestle me to the ground when I recounted it to everyone who would listen (not really, she's crazy at times, but not generally violent).  Over the years, it became a kind of joke between us.  During my freshman year of college, I received a care package from home with a 6 pack of bottled water, a container of marshmallow cream and a box of graham crackers.  Included was a note that said, "Don't ever say I sent you to college without lunch."

So maybe my mom wasn't in the "great" mom category.  Have you also noticed that I have a slight lisp at times?  Just kidding.  I don't have a lisp, and I never got my tongue caught in the beaters...but probably only by the grace of God!  Telling the story of my meager school lunches certainly doesn't paint my mom in the "great" mom category, so let me tell you a different story.

When my first husband left me at 6 months pregnant in the middle of the winter, my world fell apart.  I knew that I would have to raise a child on my own.  I knew that I would have to leave my job, my friends, my own home.  My heart broke for my son who would not have a father in his life on a regular basis.  I was a mess in so many ways, but not once did I worry about how I would get through.  I never gave a second thought to where I would go or how I would support myself and my child.  I knew I would go home.  When I told my mother what had happened, she looked at me and said, "You're coming home, right?"  I never had to ask, and I never had to question her love and support for me or for Jacob.  Of course we were coming home, and of course that's how we would get by - with her guidance.  Now, the time that I lived at home with Jacob wasn't always lovey-dovey.  My mom and I had quite a few major differences of opinion, but even during those battles of will, I never questioned the security of her love for me.  I know so many women who get into fights with their parents and are subsequently kicked out, children too, with no support, nowhere to go, no one to call upon.  I have no idea how that must feel.  I have no idea, because I am blessed with a great mom.  

A super mom, even!  

I think it's really hard for women not to compare themselves to others.   Whether it's appearance or wealth or even motherhood, we tend to be very critical of both ourselves and of others.  I'll bring up the social media point of view again: with Pinterest and Facebook, it's so easy to see all of the awesome ideas for crafts and activities that go above and beyond the parenting 101 crash course that the hospitals don't give you when you give birth to your first baby.   But it goes beyond Pinterest and Facebook.  We compare ourselves both inwardly and outwardly to one another every chance we get.  We are overly critical of ourselves, and we can be equally as critical of others.  When Jake was a newborn, I was in the middle of a divorce.  I had just moved back home to live with my parents.  I was working part time, and going to school full time, driving nearly 600 miles every week.  I was stressed beyond belief and in one of the deepest depressions I have ever known, but my child was happy and well cared for.  I was doing the best I could just to get by day to day, sometimes minute by minute. I didn't have a lot of friends nearby because most of my high school friends had left the area, so I thought it might be good for me to do some "mommy and me" things with Jake.  During my search for a club or activity, I had a conversation with a mom who did not work. I made the comment to the effect of, "I give you a lot of credit for staying home.  I think that would be terribly hard in many ways."  I was sincere then, and I still believe those words today.  I am not a person who could handle staying at home, and I give credit to moms who do.  It's hard to care for kiddos 24/7 with no breaks.  She knew the situation I was in, and instead of saying, "Thank you.  I'm sure it's hard to be a working mom too." She said, "Oh, you can't join our club.  It's only for stay at home moms."  That was the end of the conversation.  No credit to me for what I was doing.  No acknowledgement that I was also trying my hardest to do my best with what my life's circumstances were, just as she was doing for her family.  The conversation made me feel like a total asshole, like the worst mom ever.  How could I sleep at night leaving my baby in the care of strangers?  (Truth be told, I didn't sleep at night, because I Jake didn't sleep through the night until he was over 2 years old.  His wakefulness coupled with finishing homework and leaving the house at the crack of dawn to make it to school in time left me with about 4 hours of broken sleep every night for 2 years.  I was a walking zombie.  It was awesome.)  I wished I could stay at home with him, but I just couldn't.  I worried that I was setting him up for a lifetime of struggles because I was not the mother he needed, but I was stuck.  I was the only income for us.  I didn't have the luxury of a husband, so I did what I had to do and prayed for the best...and stayed away from moms groups from that point on too!

It wasn't until years later when I truly realized that the shame in that conversation did not fall on my shoulders.  The shame was hers.  Shame on her for failing to support another mother, for belittling and demeaning someone who was truly desperate for just the simple pleasure of friendship.  Isn't motherhood hard enough without the criticism of others?  Actually, I don't think the woman I spoke even realized the implications of what she said.  She may not have meant it in the way I took it either.  She may have just been stating a fact.  The club was only for non-working mothers.  I did not qualify.  Nonetheless, it felt like another notch on the belt of imperfect parenting that I put on the day Jacob was born, the belt that I wore cinched way too tightly for way too long.

In recent years, I have become more comfortable with myself, with my parenting style and with where I fit on the spectrum of motherhood.  When it comes to parenting, I am terribly imperfect on many levels.  I am impatient at times and often short tempered.  I get obsessed with organization, and I hate - absolutely hate - being woken in the middle of the night for any reason whatsoever.  I let Andrew ride on the bottom rack of the grocery cart during almost every shopping trip.  It's incredibly poor judgement on my part, but he loves it.

I do not sit with Jacob while he does his homework unless he specifically needs help.  With the exception of the pumpkin Rice Krispy treats, I do not make super cute treats for snack day.  (I had a moment of Martha Stewartdom that quickly passed, thank goodness!) Actually, this last week I completely forgot to take Andrew's snack to school.  I had washed and pulled grapes from the stems, which I thought was going above and beyond, but then promptly left the bag in my fridge, completely unnoticed.  Fail.  I tried to join the PTO when Jake was in first grade.  It wasn't for me.  I volunteered a few times when Jake was in second grade. Also not really for me.  I have not volunteered at all for Andrew.  The second kid really gets the shaft.   But I wouldn't miss a single school production for either child. I have been to every Halloween parade without fail.  Sometimes I let them have cookies for breakfast, and I always bribe them with donuts to get them through Mass.   But I also make a balanced dinner and pack a healthy lunch for them both every day.  There's no Tupperware containers of marshmallow cream for my guys!  No way!

For those moms who are on the PTO and volunteer in the classroom, kudos to you!  In a lot of ways, I am envious of you.  For those moms who hand stitch Halloween costumes, kudos to you!  I can barely sew a button. For those moms who serve Spaghettios for dinner, kudos to you too.  I bet it was a lot less stressful to nuke that sucker for 30 seconds that it was for me to make sweet potato chickpea burgers that no one will eat!  For those of you who are struggling with making everything perfect for your children, please, let it go.

Not all moments are meant to be enjoyed...or perfect.  And trying to make everything just right will do the opposite.  It will make you feel frazzled and inferior, and you will end up leaving your grapes in the fridge anyway!  It's ok to cut corners.  It's ok to be flawed.  In fact, to be well rounded individuals, kiddos need to see that sometimes imperfect isn't a bad thing.  For those of you who have let the quest for perfection go, good for you!  Letting go has allowed me to see the joy in areas where I might not have otherwise taken notice.  And for those of you who are naturally impeccable parents (yes, I believe that it actually does come very naturally to a select few), well, I have to hate you.  No, just kidding.  Kudos to you too.  Maybe you can share some tips for the rest of us June Cleaver wannabes! 

At this point in my life, I know in my heart that my mom raised us the in the best way she knew how, healthy balanced lunch or not,  and that even in our adulthood, she continues to give 100% of herself to us every day. That trait - the selfless giving of oneself to your children - that's the quality that truly makes a good mother.  It's not about packing a healthy lunch every day, making the coolest treats for snack day, volunteering at every event, or making sure every stitch of homework is done correctly.  It's about trying your best, consistently re-evaluating your methods, listening to your children and meeting their needs as much as you can.  It's about setting a good example, even when that example is about how to fix something that was a bad example.   I am proud to say that I am a terribly imperfect mother.  I am not proud of my mistakes, but I am cognizant of them, and I am working every day to better myself for my children.  Today I am grateful for motherhood ~ for my grandmother, who was in so many ways a second mother to me (except when it came to packing my lunch),  for my own mother, who continues to love and support me in more ways than she knows, and for the opportunity to be a mother myself.  Perfection does not reside in flawless parenting, but rather in the mindfulness of the blessing that is parenthood.  It sits quietly in the spaces between the mistakes, in the unending love of a mother's heart.  That's a pretty big blessing, if you ask me!