Leaning In

Kind of blue...

2009-02-03T13:44:00.000-08:00

A while back I saw this picture, and wondered if I should take a color risk and paint my table. My husband came home the other night to me impulsively painting it blue.

It is happy. It is full of "spring". I am still a little surprised by it. And, I am sure it is not for everyone, but I am glad I did it.

Amen, sister!

2009-01-31T10:05:00.000-08:00

Recently, a reader wrote in to an advice columnist at The Washington Post, asking about why her friend with children seemingly had no time to call her back. The author, Carolyn Hax, gave her a response I think we can all relate to:

Dear Carolyn:
My best friend has a child.

Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc.

Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today?

Her: Park, play group . . .

OK. I've done Internet searches; I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please, no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners. . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them every day. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day, and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail?

I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy — not a bad thing at all — but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth?

Is this a contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids, and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
— Tacoma, Wash.

Dear Tacoma,
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.

So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries and questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family members and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting the constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity, empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy — and then when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend — a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends or marvel at how much more productively she uses her time.

Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.

-Carolyn Hax

When I am a grandma...

2009-01-23T13:27:00.000-08:00

I sure hope my grandkids have this much fun with me! I am so thankful for our parents who live near to us, and continue to love our kids with reckless abandon. So thankful...

the joy of sharing

2009-01-13T19:43:00.000-08:00

My kids share a room. I have to admit, I was a bit bummed when we downsized into our 2 bedroom home and we lost a room. I have a super girly-girl who had this really beautiful wrought iron bed that I had painted pink and distressed so that it was the perfect "shabby chic" bed that looked like it came from Anthropologie (really from Ikea for $99). Moving two kids into one room did not allow the biggish bed to fit. I loved that she had her own place to be while her brother napped - giving me some actual "quiet time to myself". And, I certainly appreciated that I could send them each to their own rooms for some time out from each other when the going got rough.

Adjusting to one room has been interesting. My son, who used to sleep until about 8 AM started waking before 6 AM. I think perhaps he has always stirred around this time, and without anything exciting to do in his room would doze back off to sleep. Now he wakes and sees his sister sleeping across the room and starts doing the worst things ever for these wee hours of the morning - he sings his ABC's and counts to 10 (with the numbers all out of order) and sings songs from his favorite TV shows at the top of his lungs until his sister is wide awake too. Then they play together and read books for, oh, I don't know, 2 and a 1/2 minutes before they start fighting and screaming at each other. There are mornings that I really, really miss the other bedroom.

But, something happened recently that melted my heart into a huge puddle of blissful mama goo and pretty much redeemed the early morning shared bedroom blues.

Here is how it went down...

Callen (almost 3) had his first nightmare. He woke up sometime around 3 AM screaming and crying. It was heartbreaking and painful. He was so, so sad. He could not tell me in words what was so scary, he just kept crying and saying, "I had a scawy dweam." I stood by his bed for a long time talking to him, holding him, stroking his back, and then I left to go back to sleep. There were a couple of quiet moments, and then he started crying again and repeating his phrase about the "scawy dweam". We repeated this cycle a few times. Me going to comfort him, standing next to his bed, talking him through it, going back to bed and I would lay down for a minute or two and he would start crying again. This lasted about an hour.

The entire time this was happening, Logan was laying there in her bed with her eyes sleepily watching me come and go. Everytime I would come back into the room to comfort her brother she would say, "Callen is still scared about his dream" in her crackly, sleepy voice.

He started crying again and I got out of bed and was rushing back to comfort him again, but just as I got to the bedroom door and was reaching for the knob, I heard Logan say, "Callen, it's okay, Buddy. You're okay. I am here with you. It's okay. Go back to sleep, Buddy. I am here..." She just kept repeating it over and over in her sleepy little voice. He stopped crying and I stood there listening to her soothing him as he did that little shuddering thing that we all do after crying our hearts out. I stood there for a good 5 minutes listening to her comfort him first with her reassuring phrases, and then by singing a song to him. She sang the same song I sing to her when she is scared or worried - "Mighty to Save" - a worship song from Hillsong Church in Australia.

I had to fight every urge in my body not to rush in there and scoop them both up into a heap of hugs. I knew it would ruin the peaceful moment that had settled on their room.

I tiptoed back to bed with tears filling my eyes and thanked God that my kids get to share a room.

Si se puede!

2008-12-30T14:39:00.001-08:00

Have you ever had a day where you feel like all that comes out of your mouth is, "No."? I especially hate when my beautiful girl is repeatedly giving ideas for activities that are great, but not necessarily doable in that particular moment [we are headed out the door to a birthday party and it is "Mama, can we bake cookies?"... we have 10 minutes before bedtime and it is "Can we build the super tallest fort and read lots of books with a flashlight"... we are running late for preschool in the morning and sitting down to steamy bowls of oatmeal that need to be shoveled into our mouths faster than you can say "line leader" and I hear, "I know, lets make pancakes!"...].

I have learned of a great tool called a "Yes Jar". It is a place to store all those great ideas that just do not fit that moment so well. Write the ideas down and place them in the jar. Once per month, deem a certain day a "Yes Day", and pull out these great ideas and make space for Yes in your life.

Si, si, si!

What am i teaching my children?

2008-12-07T20:51:00.000-08:00

Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michaelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.
-Pablo Casals

I read this quote today and was reminded of what I want to teach my children! I was reminded that in addition to correcting them and redirecting them from harming each other throughout the day, that I need to stop them as they scurry past me, gently hold them by the shoulders and look deep into their eyes. I need to smile at them in a way that allows them to see, through my eyes, how very much I treasure their very existence. I need to list the things that I love about them and remind them that they are meant to be blessings to this world and that they can do great and wonderful things in their lives. I need to kiss them on the tips of their noses and just say, "I love you." And, tell them about how I remember them growing inside of my tummy and how I prayed for them 50 times a day. And that the days that they were born remain as my favorite days in my whole life. They need to know these things. They need to believe these things in their little hearts.

Logan and Callen, your mama loves you.

This is love!

2008-11-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

Don't you think that the longer you are married, the better you get at recognizing how much your spouse loves you through the oddest "displays". In early marriage, I was wooed by love songs written just for me, and special date nights, and flowers and proclamations of my beauty and grace.

Now, 10 years and 2 kids later...

I am wooed by my husband doing fancy tricks on his bike while the kids and I follow him. I was pushing our jogging stroller and so badly wanted a few more minutes of exercise. But, the natives were restless. A revolt was steadily growing. Snacks were no longer placating and the grumbling was growing louder and louder.

Dun dun du daaaaaa...

My knight in shining armor steps up and begins entertaining them with all sorts of antics. He was pretending to ride into the trees lining the walkway. He would ride under the tree branches and duck at the very last moment, just barely missing a concussion. The kids were giddy with excitement. There is nothing funnier to toddlers and preschoolers than physical comedy, right?

Well, maybe this is better. This was his finale. For about a 1/2 mile he did these tricks while cars slowed down and people walking on the other side of the street stared at us like we were the biggest family of freaks. Were they in awe? Were they perplexed? Yes to all of it.

-"Honey, what is that guy doing?"

-"I don't know dear, but lets stay on this side of the road. I hope he doesn't fall on those children."

My models

2008-11-25T08:00:00.000-08:00

As promised, here are some photos of the kids in the fashion show...

{the wee ones in the hot off the press simple shoes}

{Logan & India practicing - Logan ended up walking another little one down the catwalk}

{"this modeling stuff is hard work, lets rest right here in the middle of the floor"}

{practicing - how cute is that face on Callen!}

{strutting}

{is there anything cuter than that?}

I'm loving this...

2008-11-22T08:00:00.001-08:00

Don't you just want to sit on that floor and soak it up? I love this room. Love the light, the colors, the funky letters on the wall, the mix of modern and aged pieces...love it all!

This is the family room of blogger Andrea, from hula seventy. For the tour, go here.

It makes me want to paint my current dining room table (see below) a funky, chipping torquoise color. What do you think? Do I dare? The legs on this table kind of scream for paint, don't you think?

This table was a gift from my dear friend, Tristen, for my 30th birthday. She snagged it at a local garage sale for $25! She is a cool bargain magnet!

He's Too Sexy For His Shirt!

2008-11-21T14:00:00.000-08:00

Well, apparently Callen was born to strut his stuff. From the moment he stepped onto the "catwalk" - it was a legit catwalk with lots of lights and thumping music and a decent audience - he turned into a two year old version of Blue Steele. He was a natural and is talking about his "big show" just about every 5 minutes. If I was highly motivated, I would consider getting him a little agent person to help build his college fund because Lord knows we could use the padding. But, I am a lazy mom and would rather spend my days with him at the beach or rolling cars down the slide at our park.

But, thank goodness, there were no meltdowns until after the show when he tried to sled down the sidewalk on his hands and knees (he fell).

And, I apologize for not having any photos to share with you. I forgot to pack my camera (yes, I know, what mother forgets her camera when her kid is going to be on stage? That would be me!). But, Kristen took some photos so I will share them with you soon.

Happy Weekend, Y'all!

Fashion Show

2008-11-18T21:17:00.000-08:00

{here is Callen, flaunting his two-ness}

Tomorrow Callen is supposed to be in a Simple Shoes fashion show. He is 2. He is stinking cute and can definitely ham it up with the best of them. He is charming and handsome. Yes, all of this is true.

But, he is 2. The chances of meltdowns are high, and the battle of the wills could be in full force.

This is what I am hoping for...

That he makes it all the way down the "runway" with a smile on his face.

That he does not refuse to walk down the runway when it is his turn.

That he does not panic halfway down the runway and scream for me.

That he does not see any sort of snack or treat in the audience as he is walking down the runway, causing him to stop and demand a taste!

That he does not stop in the middle of the runway and "do a show" (that would mean that he would sing something that sounds a bit like a duck trying to sing and it probably would have words like "Thomas, James and Percy" but his pronunciation of "Percy" sounds much more like a horrible name for a girl's body part.)

Oh, and I am also hoping that he gets to keep the cute simple shoes.

As I was tucking him in bed tonight, I was prepping (brainwashing) him for his "big show where he will walk slowly in his new shoes". I almost had to pinch him because he is just too cute when he replied:

"Oh yes. I so stited!"

I will let you know how it goes...

to snip or not to snip?

2008-11-14T20:05:00.000-08:00

[a brochure on vasectomy from the 1980's-note the two men discussing the procedure over coffee]

That is indeed the question of the day over here in the Bray home. We are at a cross roads ... do we take the plunge and solidify that we are done? Do we wait a bit longer in case we get a strong desire to re-enter babyhood?

My youngest is going to be 3 in February and I have got to tell you, things are pretty dang sweet right now. We can do long outings and not be overly concerned about naps. We are in a really sweet phase. The thought of being pregnant right now and having the morning (afternoon, evening, all night) sickness again while taking care of these two beautiful kids makes me want to give up a kidney instead.

Sure, I have a few baby twinges here and there. When I see that belly bump poking out of the cute pregnant moms around me I kind of feel a twinge. And, when I see the new little peanuts being carried so gently in their parents' arms, I feel a slight twinge. When I look at these little people growing up so quickly right in front of my eyes. Their babyhood is like a breeze that blowing through my house. Slam goes the screen door, it is gone.

But, then the thoughts of sleepless nights and all that is entailed in another little person quickly snaps me back to my reality. And, my reality is that I often feel like I am barely scraping by as a mom as it is. I often end the day feeling like there is just not enough time to give these kids and to take care of my husband and our home the way that I want to. But, maybe with each kid we let go of a little bit more of that control that we hold. I definitely think that I am a better parent now than I was in the very beginning. I am less freaked out by the small stuff. More "big picture", learning to enjoy the golden moments more.

How do you know when you are done? How do you know that it is time to snip?

opportunities all around me

2008-11-08T20:42:00.001-08:00

The majority of us lead quiet, unheralded lives as we pass through this world. There will most likely be no ticker-tape parades for us, no monuments created in our honor. But that does not lessen our possible impact, for there are scores of people waiting for someone just like us to come along; people who will appreciate our compassion, our unique talents. Someone who will live a happier life merely because we took the time to share what we had to give. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have a potential to turn a life around. It's overwhelming to consider the continuous opportunities there are to make our love felt.
-Leo Buscaglia

Lately I have been struck by this quote. Because when I stop to look at my life and my days right now, it is very clear that my day is made up of mini-moments strung together that are perfect opportunities to show my love to those in my path. As a full-time SAHM, my kids are the people I am with the most. I am trying to submit to this idea. To lean into it. To see each moment as an opportunity to share my love and joy with whomever I am engaged with in that moment. It changes the way I go about filling sippy cups and preparing lunch. Even how I lay that lunch on the table. So often, I am plopping lunch down, shuffling kids about and scurrying from here to there in the midst of that task. Today, I was conscious of setting it down and kissing each of my kids on the top of the head. Small moment. Huge difference in my day, though. I am left feeling like I am the lucky one - to get to love on these beautiful people in my life. My kids. My husband. My in-laws. My parents. My friends. The lady in front of me at the grocery store. The little kid at the park who just needs a smile.

There really are opportunities all around me...

It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.
-Mother Teresa

An idea for Obama!

2008-11-08T20:29:00.000-08:00

Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with their imagination.
-Robert Fulghum

a true piece of me

2008-11-05T17:20:00.000-08:00

Today I had a little gift in my day. I got to go running. By myself. I am trying to exercise regularly, but the whole "I need to care for two little children" thing is a huge barrier for me. I get really frustrated by the bickering, the grabbing of each others' snacks & toys & "space", the constant questions that demand replies that my winded self just cannot answer in rhythm with my moving body ... I get frustrated.

Today I got to go all by myself. No one to talk to. No "I spy" games to play while I run. No stopping to pick up dropped items. Just me and the pavement. And my ipod (thank you, iphone. and thank you for letting me take these pictures while i run and while i listen to my running mix!!)) to drown out the heavy breathing. Just me and my thoughts and steady breathing.

I felt so free. It took me right back to a season of life [college in La Jolla, CA] that was characterized by open schedule, freedom to run for an hour at a time, and no one to care for but myself. I cannot really explain how I suddenly felt a bit more like myself as I was running today. Like there is this "Ali" that spans my life's timeline, and today two parts of that timeline collided. I am sure there is a strong chance that those words made no sense whatsoever to anyone but me.

Here is my hope - that every mother out there can have some sort of escape every now and then that takes her to that happy place. It could be sewing, painting, walking, running, reading in a park with strangers around. Because, I came home full. Thankful. I had eyes that got to focus on the beauty around me and an undivided self that was able to take in the moment fully - the smells of the trees and the cool fall air and my breathing ...

Where is your happy place?

Honk if you love...

2008-11-04T17:00:00.000-08:00

To Whomever Was In Charge of the Whole Time Change Thing:

2008-11-03T16:00:00.000-08:00

This was a very bad idea. On behalf of all the other mothers of the world, please change it back.

Sincerely,

Ali

[tired mom who is tired of waking up before 6 AM]

McCain, this could be your last minute maneuver to boost your numbers - go on all major networks and address the mothers of the world. Tell them that you hear their cries and you understand. And that you will make abolishing daylight savings your first plan of attack! We would way rather have sleep than a healthy economy.

Honestly, I think I might vote for Mickey Mouse if he would promise to abolish the time change deal.

Seriously.

There is no possible way that a mother was a part of the whole "Daylight Savings" discussion! No. possible. way.

I mean, what mother would want time to go backwards?

Can you picture it - "Oh, my kids wake up between 6 and 6:30 everyday, lets go ahead and move the clock backwards. I would love another hour with them in the morning."

No Way!

So, this is a day that I have constantly been looking at the clock thinking, "It has to be 10 AM already." No, it is 7:45.

"It has to be 10:30 by now. I mean, we have watched our morning TV time, had breakfast, played board games, done play-doh time, played hide and go seek, please, God, let it be 10:30!"

Nope. 9:30.

I am bitter at "Fall Back."

{Happy Halloween}

2008-11-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

We have enjoyed the Halloween Festivities to our fullest capacity this year! Callen was really excited to be Buzz Light Year, but I guess he only enjoys being Buzz in the comforts of our own home. When it was time to head out for the Trick or Treating he was inconsolable (could be due to the fact that the buzz costume is like wearing leather pants, and it is 90 degrees here - where the heck is Fall???). So, we moved to a Plan B costume - David Beckham. Apparently David Beckham is not super concerned with his nutrition because last night he attempted to eat his weight in sugar!

Logan embraced her inner-fanciness as "Fancy Nancy", her favorite character in literature right now - complete with pink hair and all. She loved the parade at preschool and was in treat nirvana for the Trick or Treating time! We got to spend the evening with 8 other families - so there were lots of super heroes, fifties girls, a cheerleader, and even a dog dressed like a pig trick or treating as a group. We were overwhelming to the poor home owners for sure!

I hope you had a Happy Halloween!

{Logan as Fancy Nancy @ preschool}

{Logan & Dorothe & a fairy, also known as Maya & Sascha}

{the parade}

{Buzz from the back}

{Callen as Buzz, before the Melt-Down}

{the crazy posse of kids}

{Trick or Treat!!!}

{Callen as Beckham}

{Happy Halloween from Fancy Nancy & David Beckham!!}

Gratitude Revolution, part 2

2008-11-01T06:55:00.000-07:00

[gratitude revolution part 1 is here]

It is my firm belief that my attitude, gratitude, and awareness of the blessings that are a part of my history and current life greatly impact my actions and my perspective on life.

My glass is either half full - because I am aware of how, in my life, I have experienced having my glass filled time and again.

OR

My glass is half empty - because as I look at my life, I see all that I lack, and I am not remembering the past that is full of blessings.

I impact my own gratitude by how (or if) I choose to reflect on my past.

I was reading Psalm 105-106 today. It records over and over how God was faithful to the Israelites in their journey out of Egypt and through the desert. It also points to the fact that we as humans are so forgetful, and that our trust should be based on our history.

Our fathers, when they were in Egypt, did not consider your wondrous works; they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love, but rebelled by the sea, at the red sea. Yet, He saved them for His name's sake, that He might make known His mighty power.
Psalm 106:7-8

"But they soon forgot His works..." (Psalm 106:13)

"They forgot God, their Savior, who had done great things..." (Psalm 106:21)

A lack of remembrance is connected to action. It is really easy for me to look at the record of these people who lived long ago and scoff at their "forgetfulness". I mean, here are these people living in the midst of miracles. - God sending the plagues to provoke their freedom from Egypt. Leading them to the Red Sea and then PARTING the waters so that they could walk through the sea to freedom. Taking them through the desert and daily providing them with bread to eat that would fall from the sky, hearing them declare their thirst and causing water to flow from a rock... I can so easily see their constant forgetfulness and how it caused them to complain and to fear for their present circumstances. In my head, I think, "If I had seen God open the sea, or drop bread into my hands every day, I would absolutely KNOW that He would continue to care for me."

But, here is what I know about myself. I forget today how God was faithful to me yesterday. I forget that He created the two children who are MIRACLES in the midst of my infertility. I forget that He has absolutely provided for our family in the most amazing ways in the midst of this economic uncertainty. It may not be water flowing out of a rock, but it is clear to me that God is doing good things in my life daily.

So, if I am going to have this revolution of gratitude in my life, I think where I have to start is by remembering. There is this section of Deuteronomy that always gives me chills:

I am going to start today with remembering.

Jekyl & Hyde were here... A Question of Contentment

2008-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

I think that I am living with Jekyl & Hyde. Seriously. It seems absurd that in the time span of .0003 seconds the mood between my children can go from loving each other wholeheartedly, stroking each other's faces with fairies flying above their heads sprinkling "happy dust" to a scene from Kujo where the dog is hunting down people and snarling and biting and breaking through windshields to get to them. It is actually unbelievable! And, it is no longer just fighting over toys (we have about 30 cars in our home, and the most coveted one is whatever one the other kid is holding!), it is as though they are fighting over who gets to breathe first. They fight over who gets to open the front door when it is time to leave, they fight over who gets to the car first, they fight over who gets to brush teeth first, they fight over which bar stool to sit in. Yesterday, I witnessed these two precious children fighting over my cottage living magazine, which neither of them cares about at all. It was just the only thing within arms reach when the "selfish moment" kicked in. I mean, seriously?

I sat watching them this morning and what I witnessed broke my heart. What I saw were two little people who were so caught up in watching what the other person was thinking about playing with next so that they could get there first, and simultaneously trying to look as though what they were holding in their hands and playing with was THE most fun thing in the whole world in order to spark some jealousy in the other. My daughter was scanning the room like a hawk and shrieking with a totally unnatural volume, "Oooohhhh, my little pony, hee hee hee, you are the most beautiful pony, hee hee hee..."

Before you think I am totally melodramatic in my saying that this "broke my heart", let me explain why. It is because it was as though I saw in their interaction the entire picture of our culture at large. I saw two little people who are so blessed with ample things to be thankful for, and the opportunity before them to live in a moment of bliss and happiness, so caught up with sizing up what the other people around them were doing, seeing and wanting that they literally were missing the joy in front of them. They were missing the opportunity to play together, to enjoy one another.

Quite frankly, I saw myself. -I miss out on so much when I am looking at everyone else. I miss out on the magic in my child when I am looking at other kids to see how my child is developing in comparison to them...I miss out on the wonder of the stage that we are in (newborn, toddler, preschool, etc.) when I am focused on what is coming next and how that will be so much easier...I miss out on recognizing that I am a well-made woman with body parts that all work and the ability to walk down the street with my head held high when I am busy comparing my thighs with the woman's thighs who is walking in front of me (who is probably comparing her tummy to the gal next to her)...I miss out on savoring the sun shining down on my face as I sit in my backyard with my kids when I am looking across my yard trying to picture how great a built in bbq and outdoor fireplace would look in place of patchy grass...

I. miss. out. on. so. much.

...but the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three on them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4, and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in a hurry to get on to the next things: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.
-Anna Quindlen

Dear Gloria Steinem,

2008-10-26T13:00:00.000-07:00

I wanted to thank you for fighting for equal pay for women in the work place. I also appreciate that I have a choice in whether I want to pursue career full-time, family full-time, or a combo of both. I believe you have marked our society and the way it looks at women. I think that we women should stick together and encourage each other in life. I admire your passion and willingness to fight for what you believe in. I do not necessarily agree with all your views (abortion being a huge one), but I do have to recognize that you leveraged your life, your career, your reputation to fight for the things you believe in. I respect that.

I recently saw you on Oprah. You were being honored for all you have done for women. You said something that I strongly disagree with, and I had to respond.

You said:

"Gratitude never radicalized anyone."

I know the context of this was Oprah asking you if you feel frustrated that young girls in this society do not know how far women have come. But, these words that you choose to speak are so contrary to what I believe.

You see, Ms. Steinem, I believe that gratitude is one of the biggest forces of revolution there is. I look at our society and I see a place that is pillaged by discontent, by greed, by a lack of gratefulness. I see a world that is hurting and broken and very, very poor. I see that most people walk through their days with a sense of entitlement, and maybe even a bit of anger because they want more. You may think that the most powerful form of revolution is anger - indignation - frustration with the status quo. I am led to believe that the most powerful revolution is one in our souls.

I have seen in recent events in my own life that my choice to walk in gratitude is transforming my life. It is RADICALLY changing my days, my thoughts, my heart. You are wrong. Gratitude has radicalized me.

I pray that my heart would burn for social justice. I pray that our culture would hurt for those who are hurting, and take a stand when it comes to social justice. That we would live radically. I truly believe that if we begin to notice and want WHAT WE HAVE, we will want to fight for others to have that as well. We will not be consumed by our quest for more, but to share the good.

So, today, I choose to be thankful. To revolutionize my world with gratitude. To foster that in my children. I hope that others will join me in this.

Sincerely,

Ali

grat⋅i⋅tude [grat-i-tood, -tyood]
–noun
the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful: He expressed his gratitude to everyone on the staff.
Origin:
1400–50; late ME <>

[join me in the revolution of gratitude...]

Why?

2008-10-25T22:08:00.000-07:00

{Why am I so cute? Why? Why is this water a creek? Why? Why those turtles sleeping? Why? Why say "Bons" to miss Bonnie? Why?}

There was a time not so long ago that I fretted over my son's lack of speech. I was concerned that he was not talking much. Concerned that he was not putting two words together. I was concerned enough to have him evaluated. We did tests and it was determined that he had a speech delay. Not so much that services were recommended, but enough to spin me into a googling frenzy and to make me nervous about all sorts of things related to speech and child development.

Time passes.

Things change.

Here I am now, exhausted from a day that was oh-so-full of talking. So. Much. Talking.

He just does not stop talking. I should pause here to say that I am thankful that he no longer has this delay. I am thankful for the speech that is flowing out of him like a mighty rushing waterfall! Okay, I am thankful.

But, it would sure be nice for him to use his internal narrative voice at times. How do you teach that to a 2 1/2 year old? Suggestions?

What amazes me almost as much as his energizer like ability to speak and speak and speak, is his father's ability to just selectively tune the talking out.

Here is what I witnessed tonight while in the kitchen washing dishes:

[Drew is on the couch watching football. Callen is on the couch playing with dinosaurs, sort of watching the football game, and Logan is leaning against her Drew's chest staring at the TV, probably noticing the way the helmets sparkle in the sunlight]

Callen: "Why those guys playing football?"

Callen: "Papa, why those guys playing football?"

Callen: "Pa-pa! Why those guys playing that football?"

Callen: "Mama, why those guys playing football?"

Mama: "Ask Papa."

[drew glances at me]

Callen: "Papa?"

Drew: "Yes, buddy."

Callen: "Why those guys playing football?"

Drew: "They like to play football."

Callen: "Oh."

Callen: "Why?"

Callen: "Why, Papa?"

[silence...]

Callen: "Why those guys talking?" (referring to the sports commentators)

Callen: "Why those guys talking?"

[I just cannot handle it any more!]

Mama: "They are telling people what is happening."

Callen: "Why?"

Logan: "You are just a chatter boy."

And so it goes all day...

If this were a Sesame Street episode, it would be brought to you by the letter Y.

I Love This...

2008-10-23T14:14:00.001-07:00

This is one of the best things I have read in a long time. It hits me square in the chest. I resonate so much with all of it.

Why is it ...

2008-10-18T20:33:00.000-07:00

... that horrible, horrible, brain rotting, good for nothing shows like "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" suck me in every time? It happens so quickly. It is like reaching for that first handful of popcorn or chocolate covered almond. And then, the next thing you know you are holding an empty bowl with a sheepish grin and tighter pants. Or, like when you sit down to quickly check out one blog on one website. And then, before you know it, it is a couple hours later and your eyes are throbbing and you have carpal tunnel syndrome and your back is sweating and you cannot believe that you just visited 34 blogs when you have a mountain of laundry slowly invading your bedroom from the closet, and you still have not started dinner!

Yep, that is exactly what it is like. My husband was flipping through the channels, and caught a couple of seconds of this show. I was passing by, and said, [with a totally mocking tone] "What are you watching?" He sheepishly answers: "This real housewives show. It is unreal." I scoff, and then lurk for a second, and then slowly settle into the seat next to him. -Just to watch until the next commercial, of course. I mean, I have to see if this lady really does get the new blinging escalade from "big poppa" (her apparent sugar daddy). She is flaunting her consumerism with reckless abandon. I. Cannot. Stop. Watching.

Then, the next episode starts and shows this mom throwing a $18,000 birthday party for her 11 year old. Naturally, right? I mean, who isn't throwing these kinds of bashes for their tweens? I want to vomit. I cannot stop thinking about how many kids that could feed in India. But, I still cannot stop watching.

Oh the horrible traps i get stuck in.

Anyone else have a guilty TV confession? Anyone know of a website I can visit to get my 2 hours of wasted time back?

"Teach your kids to repent well."

2008-10-15T08:12:00.000-07:00

I recently heard this quote:

"It is not so important to focus on teaching your children about doing the right thing or the wrong thing, but to teach them how to repent well."

-Adam Ayers

Who is this "Adam", you might be asking. He is a legend in our community. A man known for being utterly wise and for living out his Christian faith in the most authentic manner. He is also one of my husband's dearest friends and they have regularly coffee dates where they connect and chat about life. Drew is always coming home with morsels like this one. Everyone should have an Adam in their life.

But, this quote has me thinking quite a bit lately. I think I agree. And, I think I don't do this well. I am really good at telling my kids when they are doing the wrong thing, and then making suggestions for better choices. I am "just okay" at acknowledging that they have done the right thing. I am trying to be better about praising positive behavior, but I tend to have eyes that are magnets for noticing the negative behavior. But, when I think about this concept - "teaching our kids to repent well" - I cannot help but think that we would have a dramatically different culture if it were made up of people who did this regularly.

Webster defines "repent" as:

1. to feel sorry, self-reproachful, or contrite for past conduct; regret or be conscience-stricken about a past action, attitude, etc. (often fol. by of): He repented after his thoughtless act.
2. to feel such sorrow for sin or fault as to be disposed to change one's life for the better; be penitent.
3. to remember or regard with self-reproach or contrition: to repent one's injustice to another.
4. to feel sorry for; regret: to repent an imprudent act.

So, I gather that the heart of repentence is taking responsibility and feeling sorry or regret for how we have hurt another. It forces us to have empathy for the people around us - to connect with their hurts and how we have contributed to them. It takes the eyes off ourselves, and puts them on others. It causes us to see how our actions are impacting others - to own that - and then to strive to make different choices in the future.

I look at what is going on in our country right now - in both the economy and in politics. I am seeing a whole lot of pointing, blaming, and spinning. Not a whole lot of acceptance of bad choices or considering how those choices have impacted others. It is pretty amazing how quickly saying, "I am sorry. I know that hurt you and made you feel belittled" can end a fight in my home.

So, this is one of my new challenges in my role as a parent, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend & human - to model repentence well for my kids and to learn how to repent well. Believe me, there will be plenty of opportunities for me to do that.