Life Hacks or What Donuts and Swears Have in Common

If you are lucky, you are going to have some times in life that just really suck. Times where you wake up and realize that your actual life is what your worst dreams are made of and you just want to go back to sleep to escape. Moments where you think, I don’t really know how I’m going to live through this.  Experiences where you can’t stand being in your own skin because it is so miserable. And at the time, it can be really hard to see the beauty in those moments. But this is where the change happens – you are going to come out of this stronger, more thoughtful, more empathetic, more gracious – you can’t become a better You without a fight. All change comes with a battle. But this blog isn’t about overcoming adversity and becoming a different person. Not today. This blog is about the life hacks to get you through those shitty moments. I’m going to share some of my favorites – things that put a smile on my face when I needed one. And no, I’m not going to tell you to mediate or pray. Everyone tells you that. There’s nothing wrong with mediating and praying. But I’m going to tell you about laughing, swearing and unhealthy food.

1. Friends – Okay, this one is a bit of a cliché but that’s because it’s true. When you are bogged down by what life has thrown at you, reach out. If it’s really bad and shameful, I know you don’t want to tell anyone. I get it. And I’m still telling you to reach out to your friends. It doesn’t have to be all of them – make an inner circle that you know you can turn to. But my heavens, your friends are going to be the ones that get indignant with you, that put up with your constant whining, that set you back in your place, that send you funny memes that make you snort. Gather your tribe and let them take a few turns in the battle for you when you need a rest.

2. Podcasts – I love podcasts. But there are a few that I love when I need a pick me up. And these aren’t things that are inspirational or sentimental. Friends, you need a laugh. My two favorites are One Bad Mother (down to earth real moms that end each episode with “You are doing a great job” – seriously there are days I pretend they are talking to just me) and My Brother My Brother And Me (three brothers offering advice from yahoo questions.) Neither of these are appropriate for kids unless you are trying to connect with your teenage son and maybe let him listen to MBMBAM so he can think you are cool. These are hilarious. Subscribe today.

3. The Shine app – This is the coolest app I’ve found lately. First it’s free, which is awesome. Second, every day you check in and say one thing you are grateful for and one thing you are doing for yourself. And if you are going through some really heavy shit, it forces you to think of one thing you can do for yourself when it’s the last thing you want to do. I’m not going to lie, one day the thing that I was grateful for was the fact that there was the correct percentage of oxygen in the air so I could breathe. Which IS something to be grateful for and even though I had to stretch to see the good in that day, I still did. They also have great self-care articles. Way to go Shine!

4. The Skimm – Friends, if you haven’t subscribed to the Skimm yet, you are missing out. The news sucks. But the Skimm delivers it in a sarcastic, cynical and skimmed down way that I appreciate. You get an email every day with a snarky summary of the news. It’s my favorite thing to read each day. And it makes me feel smart and makes me smile. Win win.

5. Take Care of Yourself – Blah blah blah. You know this one. Eat right, sleep and move. Sigh. I’m sorry to say, but this stuff is true. Go to bed at night. Try to move. Eat right. But here’s my twist. I tend to over-exercise, under eat and not sleep when I’m stressed. So for me this meant accepting a walk for exercise. In fact, I reframed exercise to movement. Diet has always been hard for me because it’s my favorite way to beat myself up. And when I’m stressed, I am full regardless if I’ve eaten anything that day. So I started to feed myself. And sometimes I want donuts. And that’s okay because I also know that I feel better when I eat healthy so it’s not an everyday thing – and I’m not going to get upset with myself for indulging in my favorite food. To improve my sleep, I started reading to the kids and doing the daily debriefing of the days (because they really like to share the truth about their days at bedtime) in MY bed, not theirs. Then when we are done, they shoot off to their rooms and guess what, I’m already in bed. Good night!

6. Manage Those Emails and Texts – If you are like me, you are quick to respond – good or bad. Here’s what I’ve learned. Everything can wait. Take 20 minutes before you reply to the text. Wait to read the email that you know contains a trigger until you feel mentally ready. Almost everything can marinate a little bit. Get to it when you feel ready but not before.

7. Goals – When things are hard it seems crazy to add to your to-do list. But goals you set are things you can control. And that’s important when you feel like nothing is in your control. Set a goal you know you can accomplish so you can feel successful and in charge of your life, especially if work or home life has gotten away from you.

8. Finding the Humor – I learned to find the humor in every situation years ago. It was one of those growth moments I talked about earlier that changes who you are. Now whenever things are rotten, I look around for what’s funny in that situation – it makes me reframe my life and gives me a smile. For example, did you know that doctors call STDs STIs now? Why? Because we would feel better knowing that our weird rash is an infection rather than a disease? If I had herpes, I’m not sure I’d care whether it was an STD or an STI. Maybe just call me in the prescription and we’ll leave semantics for another time? But this little thought had me grinning through my tears at the OBGYNs. I know that not every situation will have something to smile about, which is why it’s important to squint and find it when you can.

9. Swears – Seriously, research has shown that people who swear are telling the truth more.  And swearing is a form of stress reduction. So let it fly friends. Trust me, it feels good to yell an F-bomb in your kitchen every once in a while.

10. Donuts – Um, so maybe I’m mentioning donuts twice. All I’m saying is it’s okay to enjoy a really good donut (if you like that kind of thing). Just don’t eat the crappy ones. You know, the day-old stale ones at your work. Wait for the fresh batch to show up. And don’t get hung up on how you didn’t choose carrots sticks instead. You will next time.

11. Music – Music has long been known for changing our emotions. So I made a Soundtrack playlist of songs that really spoke to me. Stuff like “Titanium,” “Fix You,” “Dig In,” “Run the World (Girls),” “Beautiful” and “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” When I need to remember who I am, I put it on shuffle. It’s my pick-me-up and my reminder of who I am all in one.

12. Reminder Tool on my Phone – If you are like me, you have those moments where you think, “I could have handled that better.” I always feel better about my actions and my words when I am true to who I am. So I have set reminders in my phone that do just that. Then throughout the day I see them for a quick reminder to be true to myself. For example, at 7 a.m. every day I have a reminder that says “Be kind.” That’s because I always feel better when I take the high road. And I need reminders to be kind to myself too. What did Michelle Obama say? “When they go low, we go high?” Yes! That might actually get added to my reminder list. I also have a reminder to feed the Squirrel’s frogs every Monday and Thursday. Reminders save my emotional life and the lives of those dang frogs.

Life can be hard sometimes. And while we know it’s worth it in the long run, sometimes we need things that get us through the short game – the every day. I know that each of us is going through something. Hopefully one of these hacks helps you get through your day like it did mine. If you see me grabbing a donut at Kwik Star, you know that I’m just eating a little piece of sunshine because there is nothing better than a good fresh blueberry donut. And if you see me laughing like an idiot by myself on a walk, you can be sure I’m hearing something wildly inappropriate on the MBMBAM podcast. Grab your piece of sunshine where you can Friends. Good luck!

All You Need Is Love or Why Valentine's Day Is NOT May Day

Confession: This is my first year single for Valentine’s Day in 25 years and I still love this holiday.

So many of my friends have commented over the years how much they hate Valentine’s Day. It’s a manufactured holiday sponsored by Hallmark meant for couples, etc etc etc. I always thought that maybe I didn’t feel that way because 1) I was married and 2) I love Hallmark. So here I sit, approaching my first singles Valentine’s Day since I was 16 years old and you know what, I don’t hate it. As usual, I’m looking forward to it. And let me tell you why.

Look, you know I’m not someone who buys into arbitrary holidays. If you have followed me at all, you know how I feel about May Day. But that’s nothing like Valentine’s Day! Valentine’s Day has chocolate and heart shaped candy, not stale popcorn and leftover Halloween candy in a dixie cup! Valentine’s Day is full of flowers. May Day, well, kids pull up some sad rogue sidewalk violets that droop as soon as they are plucked. I mean the sentiment is sweet but I’ll take a nice bouquet from 1-800 FLOWERS thanks.

This year though no one will be sending me flowers and that’s okay. For me Valentine’s Day has always been a celebration of love. And what this world needs is more love. Love doesn’t have to be romantic love. I love the Moose and Squirrel beyond words. I love my family. I love my wonderful friends. I love my pets, even Syd Vicious. I love my job and I love my church. If I look beyond how I’m “supposed” to feel as a newly single parent (am I supposed to feel jaded about the concept of love?), I can’t turn around without bumping into love. So how do I celebrate it this year?

Well, let’s start with my nearest and dearest. Every year I have given my kids small gifts four days leading up to Valentine’s Day because well, I just like to find excuses to surprise them and this seemed like a good outlet. And I like to make this celebration of love last as long as I can. So in that spirit, I’m leaving them little love notes every day in February on their bedroom doors.  February is a short month – I can easily think of 28 things I love about my kids. 

Let’s widen that circle. I’ve decided that this year, once a month I’m going to write a friend or family member and tell them how much they mean to me. This has been a year where I could not have gotten through it without my friends and family. They have held me up when I couldn’t stand. They have sent texts, emails, old fashioned letters, and called. They did not look away when I sobbed in the middle of Subway – that’s saying something. They have loved me when life wasn’t easy. It’s always easy to love the cute adorable puppy but when it is an old arthritic dog, not so much. This was an old dog year and yet I was surrounded by love.

But what about beyond that? In a year that I know will be challenging emotionally and mentally, I decided to compound that by coming up with 19 things to do in 2019 (all from the Happier podcast with Gretchen Rubin.) At first it seemed pretty stupid to add things to my to-do list that already seemed overwhelming. But so much of my every day to-do list is stuff I don’t actually want to do. By making a 19 in 2019 list, these were things I actually wanted to do. One thing that made this list was showing love beyond my circle and to involve the boys. We are doing monthly RAK Attacks this year, which sounds kind of awful but actually is wonderful. Once a month we will go out of our way to do random acts of kindness. We’ve left popcorn at the Redbox and left change in the vending machines. I decided that we can each take turns coming up with ideas each month so I took January, Squirrel has February and Moose has March. I can’t wait to see what they think of.

So much love to spread out. But I’m missing someone. Myself. Through the years I’ve struggled to love myself, instead expecting too much and never achieving it and berating myself for not being perfect. That’s a work in progress. Now when I have a bad moment and get upset with how I handled it, I take a breath and realize I’m not perfect and won’t always act the way I want to. Evidently, that’s called being human. So what can I do to show myself some love for Valentine’s Day? Well, first I’m going to be around people who bring me joy. I’m going to be gentle with myself and realize that this might be more difficult than I’m letting on. I’m finding a good book to read and funny cat videos to watch to make me smile. I’m going to use an expensive shower burst to start my day out right. I’m going to move – either by going to the gym or staying at home on my yoga mat. I might pick myself up a few flowers to cheer up my desk at work and maybe a heart shaped donut because I love donuts. I’m going to love someone I’ve ignored for a long time. Me. I am going to be my biggest fan this year. Heck, I might even write myself a love note.

See, if we reframe Valentine’s Day from something commercial to a celebration of love, we realize that Valentine’s Day is just a reminder to celebrate something that surrounds us every day. It is easy to only see the hate in this world – it’s almost all we see in the news and papers. It’s easy to get wrapped up in all that is going wrong in our lives. But if you squint just a little, you see the love shining through too. In this year of healing, I’m working on building more love into my life, for my sons, for my friends and family, for complete strangers and most importantly, for myself. Because if I don’t treat myself with the love that I deserve, no one else will either. And love is something to celebrate.

Sydney AKA Syd Vicious
possibly one of the more evil cats I know

but I love her :)

My Own Personal Speed Trap or Slowing Down for My Year of Healing

Speed. I am speed. Oh Cars, what a great catch phrase. I think this has been my theme for years now, ever since I had kids. I seem to only have sped up my life as the boys have gotten older. I have major FOMO. There are so many books to read, there are so many fun kids’ activities to register for, there are too many things to do. And on. And on. And on. I even listen to my podcasts on 1.5 speed because regular speed is too slow.

Frankly it’s hard to enjoy things when you are trying to cram everything into just 24 hours. The pressure I put on myself to constantly go-go-go is crushing. My head is spinning and my to-do list is growing by the minute. There is always something I could be doing. What’s ironic is that while I am always rushing about, I am almost always late these days. I am always trying to squeeze in that last load of laundry, wash the last dish, read the last chapter, go for 5 more minutes on the elliptical, dash to the one last errand. My attempt at being fast only makes me look slow because I try to do one more thing before it’s time to go.

To drive home the point (no pun intended), I got the mail one day this summer and lo and behold there were a couple of envelopes for me - not one but two speeding tickets, both issued in one week, a day apart, by the goddamn traffic cameras. After a long fuck-filled rant about the traffic cameras, the idiocy of having a 25-mph section in the middle of town where it should be 35 mph, and a strong case for “if an actual cop had pulled me over the first time, I wouldn’t have been speeding for the second ticket,” I had to face the facts. I had to slow down.

Oh my gosh, I really hate slowing down. Slowing down means I won’t get everything done. It means that people will be doing things I could be doing but I’m not. It means other people who are better people than I am can keep up the pace while I cannot. And most importantly it means I may have to listen to the garbage that is inside my head instead of trying to out run it.

After 41 years, you would think I would know my tells. You would think I would know that if I keep adding things to my to-do list and making each weekend bigger and better, and baking from scratch at 5 a.m. and not sleeping and over committing, and hating myself for not keeping up, that it is a sign that I’m trying to dodge something real that is happening inside my heart.

Oh that heart. I don’t ever talk about it because to talk about my heart means that my head has lost the battle. I am so good at putting on that stone-cold warrior face, icing over my heart and preparing for the war that life can be, smiling when I feel like sighing. And I’m going to be honest with you. My heart broke this year. Broke. My head couldn’t save it. It tried and denied for so long, but in the end, the heart won. Which means my head lost. And I am admitting to you that I am hurt. I am injured. I am down.

I have always struggled to give emotion space in my life. I don’t like to feel. But this time? There wasn’t a choice. Talk about humbling. My heart said, nope, you can’t escape this time. This time none of my old ways of avoiding emotion worked. This time I had to go through the fire instead of above, around and under. There was just no other way except to experience it. And that hurts. And hurting sucks.

If I slow down, what is going to happen? I am going to experience the pain of heartbreak. The fear of the unknown. The anger of the unjust. It is downright scary my friends. And yet, if I slow down and stop and look around, all of these feelings are a sign that I am alive. I have survived another day. I may not have always felt like a warrior, but I am still breathing and my heart is somehow still beating. And some days, that is an accomplishment to be proud of.  

I’m trying really hard to stop adding things to my to-do list because I know that I am simply trying to sprint from something that can’t be outrun. All during winter break, I did not cut up the weekly fruit tray (sounds crazy but I feel the need to always have fresh cut fruit at the ready because that’s what “good moms do.”) I read books – predictable ones that didn’t require a lot of mental work. I just sat around and talked to my kids. And when my brain was tired and my heart needed a break, we watched Netflix and you know what? It was fine. The walls did not come crashing down. We ate apples (what no strawberries and kiwi?) and I got through the second season of the Ozarks.

This year my theme is Healing. I’ve got a lot of healing to do and part of that healing means I have to stop trying to outrun the tough stuff with an endless to-do list and instead just experience it. Healing for me means resting and honoring what a battle I’ve been through. Healing means sleeping when I am tired and moving my body simply to feel good, not because I ate three cookies that might have been still frozen because I couldn’t wait. Healing is rediscovering who I am when others aren’t imposing their opinions on me. Healing means dreaming again and smiling again and enjoying those small moments with my kids when we are all laughing so hard we can’t breath and someone has to get the Squirrel’s inhaler because he’s laughed himself into an asthma attack. And those moments can’t come when I am working through a to-do list or volunteering to chair some event because “we need everyone to overcommit.” (Ok, so that's not what the say in the email but you know it's implied.)

So the homemade baked goods will be baked when I feel like it. And I’ll sit down and read too during the Squirrel’s daily 20 minutes of reading. Dinner and laundry can wait 20 minutes. And the Moose and I will just hang out doing nothing in particular long enough that he will actually share something about his teenaged day. And slowly slowly I’ll find myself again. Because good things come slowly. And my future is going to be full of good things.

“Listen – are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?” – Mary Oliver

Finding My Truth or Dammit Vicki

About 18 years ago I attended a two-day yoga teaching workshop. During one of the breaks on the second day, there was a time to ask questions and I asked about Fish pose. Fish pose requires you to put the back of your head on the ground, opening your throat to the sky. Whenever I come out of a pose that puts my head back, I get incredibly dizzy for several minutes afterward. I asked what would cause this and what recommendations there were for the pose. A woman piped up, “You see, Fish pose opens the Throat Chakra. The Throat Chakra is where our truth comes from so maybe that’s the problem.”

I gave her my best “Wow, no thank you for your help” face and inside thought, “What the fuck Vicki? Did you just call me out as a dishonest person in front of this room of yogis? You don’t even fucking know me.” I was looking for a scientific reason because I lived in the world of black and white and science and physiology were my friends, not some woo-woo garbage about chakras. I always told the truth – sometimes to a fault. But deep down, over the years this comment has lived with me. Am I an honest person? Is this why throat opening poses make me sick? It doesn’t make any sense. I am totally an honest person. So instead of tipping my head back, I would flex my neck to keep my head neutral which was a better alternative to losing my balance and wanting to puke while I was teaching. Clearly the issue had something to do with blood pressure or equilibrium. The mind-body connection theory is a great idea, but it certainly wasn’t this connected.

Flash forward 16 years and I had this life changing moment. This moment rocked my world and made me question everything I knew. I lost my smile. I lost my reality. Vicki’s comment kept coming up in my mind. What was the truth anyway? What did I know to be real? I realized I didn’t know the answer anymore. I started to really think about my life and consider what I knew to be true about myself. That much I could answer, or so I thought. I was an honest person who tried her best to be good to others. I had integrity and a deep sense of fairness. 

When your world changes, you start to notice everything around you through a different lens. And I started to notice when I felt a deep true emotion, I could feel it in my throat. Noticing my body’s reactions to my emotions started showing me the difference between a real true emotion and indignation. I feel indignation and pettiness in my mind. If it was real fear or sadness, my heart would clench up all the way through my throat.  Usually I would swallow it down because I didn’t have time for a big real feel. I had a job. I had kids to raise. I was swallowing my truth. Turns out Vicki might have been on to something. There is a mind-body connection after all. I started listening to my body more to help me steer through the chaos in my mind. I didn’t have a lot of time to spend on emotions so if I was going to deal with something, it had better be real.

It’s been a year since this catalyst moment and I’m still processing. Like most pivotal moments, it ended up having multiple layers, and like an onion, they all made you cry. This year has been exhausting. I met with my therapist and told her that I was tired of not feeling like myself. “Jen doesn’t feel sad or mad. Jen is a happy person. I’m really ready for this “season” to be finished. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Something must be wrong with me.” And she looked at me and said, “I’d like to talk about that. Jen isn’t just a happy person or a sad person or a mad person. She should feel all of those things. That makes her a human. Being Happy Jen has not served you well in the past. You were never Happy Jen – Real Jen feels all kinds of feelings. I would say that you need to feel sad and mad at times. And that’s exactly where you should be right now. You have just started to give voice to your feelings.”

I thought about that. In an effort to make those around me happy and to earn love and acceptance, I practiced a lot of self-destructive behavior. It is my 25-year anniversary with my eating disorder. I learned it was easier to feel physical pain than emotional pain and what better way to find quick pain than being hungry. I only felt lovable if I was perfect and thin is perfect. As I got older I learned that when life was hard and stressful and sad I could swallow those feelings by over-doing. I would clean everything, bake everything, take care of everything because if I was accomplishing something, I could feel good about that, even if nothing else felt good. If I could just be perfect, then everything would be fine. I would be worthy of love. And if I could keep constantly busy, I could outrun those emotions instead of giving a voice to my feelings. All these behaviors did was make me exhausted and a wisp of myself. I was so good at swallowing my true emotions so that I could seem happy and perfect to everyone. I wasn’t really as honest as I thought I was. Truthfully, I hadn’t been honest with myself in years, instead hiding any signs of trouble with these unhealthy behaviors. 

This past year I’ve been finding my voice. I’ve been speaking up for myself because I have nothing to lose but my integrity by staying silent. I can be sad and I can be mad. And if people don’t like it, then they don’t like the Real Jen – and I’d rather surround myself with people who like the Real Me than the one I’ve been projecting for acceptance. I’ve been in the arena this year and I’ve been knocked down, bruised and blooded. I’m proud of these new scars. I found that I would rather speak truth than put up a façade. Authentic feels real and that’s all I want now. And according to my therapist, maybe I’ve never been Happy Jen. I haven’t been honest with myself or others and instead ran from my real feelings. I deserve better than that. And it’s only fair to let others know the Real Me and make decisions based on who she is versus who I think you want her to be. Needless to say it has been a Rebuilding Year.

Recently I went to a Sleepy Yoga class (aka Restore Yoga but I always drift off.) We were going into a deep quad stretch pose and were instructed to drop our heads back, just like in Fish pose. I flexed my muscles to keep my head in neutral like usual. It felt cramped and uncomfortable so I took a chance and dropped my head. I held it for a few breaths and then braced myself for the ensuing dizziness I’d have when I came out of the pose. I rose up and…nothing. It must have been a fluke. I dropped my head back again and soon rose up. Nothing. I finished the pose with my head back, throat open to the sky. It felt great – I’ve never been able to do that in the 20 years I’ve done yoga. It looks like my Throat Chakra has opened. I have finally found my truth. Dammit. Looks like Vicki was right after all.  

I Have a Freshman and Need Maternity Leave Now or Sure You Can Bring Over a Casserole

Have you noticed that when we first start out as moms we get a ton of help? There are support groups at the hospital and local church for new moms. You go to the doctor every 2-4 weeks to make sure your bundle of joy is thriving. Problems breastfeeding? There is a sweet nurse there to help you 24-7, just a short phone call away. People make you casseroles. You (hopefully – US, you are the worst at maternity leave) get time off of work to adjust. But where is that support now when our kids become older? Sure, I have a tribe of amazing people I can call and they will all be there when I need them most. But we all know that our tribe is crazy busy too so we only send out the bat signal in a dire emergency. I’m talking about the help for the mundane every day survival we are all going through. Casseroles were nice when I was a new mom, but looking back on things, I was home more and probably (had I known what I know now) could have rallied and fed myself. I need you to send me a casserole NOW when three of us in this house of four are in completely different directions at the same time. Can I get a laundry nurse instead of a lactation nurse now? I really can’t understand why football pants would be made white? Why? And maternity leave? Hey, I’m still a mom and I’ve got kids with ever shifting schedules. If I ever needed 6-12 weeks off of work, I could use it now.  And I’m fortunate to work with a flexible boss.  I can’t imagine life if I didn’t.

Every stage of parenthood is different. I couldn’t believe the overwhelming responsibility of becoming a mom. Here is someone I love more than life itself and I am completely responsible for not breaking him? And that was just the physical stuff! As they get older you realize you can also accidentally crush their souls too. Just this past weekend I was accused of doing the “cruelest, meanest, most monstrous thing anyone could do,” which at this point just made me proud of the Squirrel’s vocabulary. I don’t think the Moose broke out the word “monstrous” in third grade. Maybe I’m just developing parenting callouses. But now I find myself with a freshman and a third grader and life feels crazier than it did when they were little. Sure, diapers were awful, but so is finding out your third grader DOES have homework and it’s 8:30 p.m. Changing a diaper is a lot quicker than learning “new math.”  

This really started back in the summer with the Moose and his every changing schedule. The amount of organizing that has to happen to get someone to a 9 a.m. weight lifting session when all of the adults at the house start working by 8 a.m. is really a feat. Thankfully I have parents that are relatively close by and can help with schedules like this. I thought things would get better once school started because then my children would all be locked into one place between 7:30 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. Nope. We are on-call every night for that text for a ride home, not knowing exactly how long coach is going to run practice. Just last night we received the swimming schedule and it is completely the opposite of what it was before. While I get my Saturday mornings back, I lose my Friday nights. Practice EVERY Friday night? I can’t even. I am going to lose my mind. They said pregnancy brain was bad? That was just a teaser for life to come.

Despite keeping both online and paper calendars and organizers, I still seem to be dropping the ball. Every day there is a new note or a change in the game. Perhaps I am just too rigid in my ways to think that if someone says practice ends at 5:45, then it ends at 5:45. Maybe I’m the problem and just need to go with the flow more. Maybe you are thinking that my kids are over-scheduled. But I don’t think one sport a season is over scheduled. And they love it (well, the Squirrel would ALWAYS prefer Minecraft to swim practice but that’s exactly why we have swim practice.) Am I setting too high expectations for myself? Honestly my bar for success is so low now that if I have fed the kids and they are showered by 9 p.m., I consider it a decent day. I may just be in a new phase of adjustment again, just like when the kids were first born, first learning to walk, first going to school. 

I’m not sure what I think of this phase yet. It definitely is fast paced and I feel like I need my A game every single moment. And I also know that I rarely have the energy for my A game.

I don’t have the answers for what would make this stage in life easier. All I know is that I could go back to the time when people volunteered to come over to my house to throw in a load of laundry so I could nap when the baby is sleeping. And then they could slip out of the house as they leave a nice meal in the oven. Maybe instead of offering to change a diaper, now they could help with the math homework that I don’t have the patience to figure out. In fact, I’m guessing my whole tribe could use that. Maybe every time you get a freshman in your house, you get 6 weeks of paid maternity leave, all over again, that you can use as you see fit. Honestly, I have the feeling I’m going to need a whole lot more than 6 weeks over the next four years to feel like I have my life in order. But I’m going for the small ask to start with. Maybe when my kids grow up and have children, I’ll remember this time. And when their kids get older, I’ll remember that they still need help throwing in a load of laundry and doing up the dishes, they still need to sleep when they can steal a chance, and a homemade casserole in the freezer never hurt anyone.   

Facebook Syndrome or Failing at Being a Good Example

I’ve worked most of my life. I started walking beans when I was in my early teens, then worked in restaurants, rebuilt flooded out park trails, sold clothes, taught aerobics, sold lingerie, scooped ice cream, tried to improve people’s health, and finally landed in higher education. I can only think of a 3-month period since I was 16 when I wasn’t working – the brief time between graduating high school and starting college. I’ve worked because I needed the money and I’ve worked because I like what I do. I’ve never really considered not working, even when I had kids. Sure, there are times where I’ve daydreamed about being a stay-at-home mom, but sometimes the fact that I can go to the bathroom by myself at work, which I still have a hard time accomplishing with my kids now, is all I need to motivate me to put on my dress shoes and head to the office.

So on those rare weekdays off I like to pretend that I am a stay-at-home mom. I look around and see people out on walks with their kids, going to the park and the library – DURING THE DAY! -  and I think, is this what your life is like every day? For me it is a precious novelty – being able to do those daytime activities with my kids on a Monday. We go to the park, we go to the gym and the mall, we read and do art. This is what the other half of the mommy world looks like. And it looks pretty good. But then the next day it’s back to business – vacation is over – and I head back to work. I wouldn’t say I regret I didn’t stay home with my kids – it simply wasn’t an option. And it makes the time I am home with them even more important.

But if I’m being honest, when I look around at the people whose lives normally include a trip to the gym at 10:30 a.m. instead of 4:30 a.m. and the parents who can hit that 9 a.m. story hour at the library, I feel a little sense of snobbery. I go to work every day. I don’t have the life that allows me to sleep in and do things during the day. (SAHMs, please feel free to scream at me because I know in reality, you are NOT sleeping in.) I run the household and clean and sign permission slips all after 5 p.m. and I still get it all done! And I’ll admit, while exhausted, I feel a bit superior. I am a Super Mom. I work and parent and get it all done – sometimes. And when I don’t get it done, I get the pass for being a Working Mom. Look at me. Judging the Mommy Wars. Fantastic. I said I was being honest, not proud.

I thought I kept most of these thoughts and attitudes to myself, only occasionally sharing them with my fellow working moms. “How are WE supposed to go to swim lessons at 10 a.m.? Don’t most people work? It’s for all of those Stay-At-Homes…” How quickly we forget we are all in this battle together. How quickly we forget that staying at home all day with your children is so very difficult and is the definition of HARD WORK. I’m willing to bet they would like a day where they can get dressed and not worry about someone sneezing applesauce all over their white capris. And let’s be honest, all of this judgment comes from jealousy and the very real of feeling of not doing a good job being a mom. Everyone knows good moms stay at home with their kids and don’t let other people raise them. Even if being a good mom means working to help support the family and providing food and shelter, that’s not really what society thinks. Somehow we are supposed to be able to stay home and support the family at the same time. Oh the duality. But…this blog is not about the Mommy Wars. It is about the attitude I project and the expectations I am setting.

The kids didn’t have school on a Monday and I used one of my vacation days to hang out with them. The Moose and I decided to go to our favorite yoga class which on Mondays is at 10:45 a.m. – a time we never get to go to because…school and work. So this was a treat. We were walking through our fancy gym and the Moose looks over at me and says, “look at all of these Westport Moms.” And I stopped in my tracks.

One of our favorite family shows is American Housewife, where Katie is a regular sized mom living in a rich town called Westport full of very thin rich moms who don’t work and do yoga all day. She is constantly railing on how thin they are and making fun of how many fitbits they wear. And this show is funny. However, it seems to have made an impression on our kids. I asked Moose what he meant. “Well, why aren’t they all working? They are here at the gym (it is implied that they can afford the gym). I think everyone should work even if they have a lot of money – you should still work.” Hmm…I can’t say I didn’t think to myself “What do these people do that they can be hitting the gym in the middle of the day?!” But I didn’t want my teenager to be judgy too. I had earned my right to judge, hadn’t I? I work and days like this were a novelty. But what does he know? Or better question, what had I been modeling?

Why did this feel so icky? Is it because he’s in no place to have an opinion or judgement on these people? On my most gracious day I figure they are all people who work a second or third shift. On my worst day I see the size 2 moms in their yoga clothes, dropping their kids off at the onsite daycare to go to spinning or yoga and think, nice life you have there. Not my best side. And now my son is feeling the same way. Even without saying anything to him, have I perpetuated this attitude?

And it’s not so much that he’s 13 and is judging these adults. It’s the fact that he’s going to be a man someday and could be judging these adults. What is he going to expect from his significant other? What am I modeling as a mom and woman? Does he think that the wife (should he choose to marry a woman of course) should have kids, work, and manage the house all at once? Does he know how hard I work? Does he know how much I complain, stress, don’t sleep, and worry about getting it all done? The endless lists of things to do that can’t be done while I’m at work? Does he think this culture of never resting, this status symbol of busy, is what is expected?

I’m not really setting a good example of what an awesome mom and woman should be. Sure, I work and parent the best I can. But there are a lot of days I’m just barely scrapping by. I missed getting the Squirrel into a swim meet because I missed the deadline – in my defense they moved it up three days and didn’t tell us until it was due – but still I missed it and now he’s not swimming in the meet. I’ve apologized and consider it one of the casualties of the end of the school year hustle. I literally can’t get it all done. Why are we eating sandwiches every night? Because we are beyond busy right now and I don’t have time to look up crockpot recipes so it’s grilled cheese night…again.

I’m not saying I’m not doing a good job. I am. I am doing the best I can and I acknowledge that sometimes my best is mediocre. But what do the Moose and Squirrel see? They see a mom who yells at them sometimes, who bakes fresh muffins and breakfast every Wednesday, cleans before work on Friday mornings, who goes off to work every day but still tries to make it to all of their school and sporting events. They don’t see the hustle and the scramble and the occasional tears and frantic texts to other moms because she cannot remember where practice is at. The flagged emails, the to-do lists that are literally 56 items long, and the fact that she gets up at 4:15 a.m. not because she wants to but because it’s the only time of day she can squeeze in a workout because good moms are also fit and healthy. They think her coffee addiction is cute, not a necessity, which it is because she could not hold it together without artificial assistance. They don’t know she looks at her tribe and says, “I’ve fucked it up again.” They don’t know she goes to therapy to hold it all together twice a month because she is never perfect enough.

So. In true Catholic fashion, I’ve found a way to own the blame for the Moose’s attitude and I feel guilty. What can I do? Maybe it’s time to scale back the hustle. To make these boys better future men and let them see behind the curtain of Oz, where I’m frantically spinning wheels and turning nobs to project a reality that simply isn’t real. Maybe this mom needs to sit down and read a book instead of starting dinner with her coat still on when she rushes in the door. Maybe this mom needs to have her sons cook dinner once a week instead. Part of that is setting down my expectation that I should be able to do it all – I love feeling like the perfect mom. But it’s Facebook-Syndrome isn’t it? (Can I trademark that?) The situation where it all looks like sunshine, unicorns and sparkles on the outside but on the inside it is constant exhaustion, anxiety and stress.

I’ve written about this before, but it’s time to put down the magic wand and start showing Cinderella as she really is – a girl in a slimy pumpkin being pulled by rats. I’ve always thought I needed to do this for myself but now I’m starting to realize I need to do this for my boys. I don’t want them to have expectations for themselves or their significant others that they can do it all. No one can. And if you have girls, you don’t want them thinking it too. Hell, I don’t want my friends thinking it anymore either! Someone has to break this cycle and be the Screw Up aka Real Mom. I’m willing to take one for the team and be the shining example of mediocrity. But instead of shooting for the stars and hitting the side of the barn, I’ll just shoot for the barn now.

Does this mean I won’t still plan special things for my kids or bake homemade cookies? No. I actually like doing that stuff. But it does mean I won’t beat myself up when I don’t want to socialize after work because my social energy for the day has been eaten by my job and I need some quiet, even if it makes me seem like a Not-Fun Mom. It means that I’ll stop trying to clean the whole house before work on Friday. It means I’ll do the fun stuff when I’m feeling good, not overwhelmed and running on empty. I think the key is to do the stuff you like when you feel good. For example, I like making summer bucket lists, not to tick off some Super Mom requirement, but because I love setting goals and trying new things. How do we know if we’ve crossed the line from stuff we enjoy doing to stuff we do so we look good? It’s when we don’t feel compelled to post it on social media - then we know it’s a green light. Now if you made the world’s most amazing cake, post it – way to go! But only post it if you would have also posted the fail picture if it hadn’t turned out. If we are only doing something so the outside can look amazing while the inside is dying, then we know it’s not healthy for us.

This will have to start tomorrow. I’ve already cleaned the house while the boys were eating their special Last Day of School Breakfast that I made. I’m not going to lie – I made them pose toasting their sparkling mocktails so I could take a picture. Fail! This change is going to take some time. Next year, special Last Day of School Breakfast will be cereal, unless I’m feeling well-rested – then they can eat muffins.

I'm a Mom, Not a Maid or Finding Jenny

It was another typical morning of getting after the kids to get ready for school AGAIN! It fails me how intelligent children cannot remember to get their shoes on and their teeth brushed. Or how it takes them 15 minutes to do a 30 second chore. Seriously. It ended as it usually does with me lecturing them in the car on the way to school about responsibility and respect. “I shouldn’t have to tell you to put on your shoes everyday…” “No screens in the morning for the rest of the week!” “I even made you breakfast – all you had to do is eat it and get dressed!” “I am a Mom, not a maid – you can clear your breakfast dishes!”

This is a pretty normal part of our morning sadly. While I would rather start the day like June Cleaver, my best efforts usually end in frustration. But why was it bothering me so much today? I couldn’t really put my finger on it, but it felt like I was being taken advantage of. It felt like I was being treated like a disposable…Mom.

How can I explain it? My kids were acting like kids. Of course Mom makes sure they have packed school bags, breakfast on the table, signed school notes and a ride to school. That’s what Moms do. Then she goes to work all day. After work, she rushes to the sporting events, while at the same time tries to figure out when we’ll all eat dinner, looks through the backpacks for homework assignments, and reads the school emails. She tosses the sports uniforms in the laundry, packs the lunch bags for the next day, updates the online calendar of family events and reads bedtime stories. Somewhere in there she pays the bills and cleans the house, gets the groceries and buys the upcoming presents for the parties and schedules doctors’ appointments. Rinse and repeat. Over and over and over.

This is what Moms do, right? We are care givers and managers. And we love it don’t we? We love being Moms, sure we do. And in all honesty, I DO love being a Mom. I love that the kids can count on me, no matter what. I do love watching my kids’ sporting events. But…I don’t love how they monopolize every evening or an entire weekend. I want my kids to feel loved and cared for and to know that Mom is there. I want to be the safety net. However, I also want my kids to know me for who I am, not what I do.  

I realized that Jenny does not actually WANT to pay the bills or get the groceries or be the one in the house who knows what’s for dinner. Jenny likes to eat when she’s hungry, even if that means dinner is cereal at 9 p.m. Jenny does not WANT to clean the house or help with math homework. Jenny would rather go for a walk or read or watch tv.  Jenny does not WANT to spend 9 hours on a Saturday to watch her son throw something 6 times and run for 15 seconds. Jenny has other ways to spend 9 hours. Mom may want to do all these things but Jenny does not.

Who the heck is this Jenny anyway? She sounds like a selfish bitch, but that might just be Mom talking. Because once you are a Mom, those kids’ needs should always come first. It is Mom code. But I think Jenny is someone I used to know. Somewhere around 13 years ago she ghosted out, run off from the overwhelming responsibility that comes with a new baby who never sleeps. She left the party so Mom could come in and take care of the house and kids. And being Mom is a full-time job. There was no room for Jenny anymore in that world. And no one really invited her back – why would they when Mom does such a great job? It was assumed that Jenny would be Mom and that Mom would be Jenny. But while Jenny turned into Mom, Mom just wasn’t able to leave space open for Jenny to live too. So Jenny left.

Confused yet? Or does it resonate with you? Maybe you’ve been able to retain your identity from before kids, but I didn’t. And it struck me that I really don’t even remember who Jenny is anymore. And that makes me sad and it also really pisses me off. At some point I lost who I was. And now I’m determined to find Jenny again. Unfortunately I’m not sure where to start.

My life revolves around these little balls of energy – I honestly don’t know what else there is anymore. What did Jenny even like to do when she was Jenny – before everything edged her out. I sat down to write a list of things I liked back when I didn’t have to manage a household or be responsible for the wellbeing of others. Here’s what I came up with:

Art
Friends

Exercise
Health
Music
Sticker books
Playing the drums
Unicorns
Reading
Swinging
Writing
Laughing
Cats

Obviously I had to really scrape the bottom of the barrel to remember things that I loved when I was Jenny. I’m pretty sure sticker books and unicorns are a little outdated. But I loved nothing more than to get a new album and to listen to it all in one sitting, reading the lyrics. And I loved reading and writing. I loved exercising back when I wasn’t trying to outrun my “Mom Bod.”

Am I saying I don’t want to be a Mom still? No. I love being Mom. I identify with being Mom. But I also want to create room and space for Jenny. I miss her. I’m tired of feeling overlooked because I’m Mom. They wouldn’t overlook Jenny. Jenny has feelings and interests and hobbies. Jenny has a personality. Frankly Mom is a little boring and a task master.

I think it’s going to have to be a balancing act. Let’s be real. There really is no separating out Jenny from Mom. And I don’t want to. We need Mom. And I like Mom. There are simply times where Mom is the only one who can do the job and it feels good to feel capable and needed – it fulfills something in me. Being a Mom changed who I am for the better. But that doesn’t mean Jenny can’t also show up sometimes and ask for what she needs. As icky as that feels for Mom, it’s time for Jenny to be heard.

I’m not sure how I’m going to rediscover Jenny yet. It’s going to take some changes and not the kind that come easily. It’s going to take some space and some quiet and some boundaries. And Mom isn’t good at any of those. Mom likes to bake cookies even when she is tired because that’s what good Moms do and everyone loves fresh baked cookies. But if I want Jenny to come back to this party known as life, I’ve got to welcome her back and make space for her on the couch. Maybe the kids will fight over who gets to sit next to Jenny, just like they fight over who gets to sit by Mom. There might be days she needs to sit by herself too and on those days, we’ll have to give her the permission to do that. Otherwise she may not stay. And trust me, this party is way better when she’s here.