Faith versus Fear or Fear is a Four Letter F Word

I was sitting in church one morning and the pastor was talking about faith and fear. And all of a sudden a four letter word popped into my head (surprising I know…) “WALL.” And the pastor is talking about living fearlessly and loving every one. That when we give love away, we end up with more. I thought, this whole Wall thing is garbage. Here we are saying that we are trying to keep out the bad guys – the rapists, the murderers and the drug dealers. And all I hear is fear, fear, fear - another four letter word, possibly the worst four lettered F word I know. We are basing our foreign policy on fear. God is sitting up there thinking, “What the hell Friends? I gave you this Earth and told you to love each other and here you are screwing up that one simple rule all because you decided to draw some dumbass line in the dirt so you could exclude people.”**  And then we closed church by singing a song that said “We are called to love one another.” And oddly enough there wasn’t an asterisk after that to say, “but only if they are United States citizens.” God is just up there shaking his head over this Wall thing. Bad people come from everywhere including the United States. From my Catholic roots, the prayer of St. Francis says where there is hatred let me sow love - not build a wall.

Isn’t fear a funny thing? So much of our violence, anger, strife and war is fear-based. We are afraid of people we don’t know, religion we don’t understand, people taking things from us, being less-than, the unknown, being found out for who we really are. Fear creeps up and in the moment is all encompassing. Standing up against fear takes faith. Faith in yourself, faith in other people to be true and faith in your higher power to have your back. 

Isn’t some fear good? How do you know it is fear to listen to or fear to blow off? There’s a difference. Fear is not a Sixth Sense. We are all blessed with a Sixth Sense that tells us when to run, who not to trust, when to cross the street. Every time I’ve had a Sixth Sense, it’s been right. I had a sense the night I was robbed that I would be robbed (dudes, I know that is crazy but it is true.) I have a sense when someone is lying to me. I have a sense when someone is not safe for my kids. That’s not fear, that is a blessing of insight. That voice, you listen to. 

But whenever I’ve succumbed to fear, I have regretted my decisions. I was afraid I would not be able to heal my kids from divorce and instead stayed in a marriage too long. I was afraid I would not be able to support my kids financially on my own. I was afraid to eat because then I wouldn’t be perfect. Where was my faith in myself, my faith in other people, my faith in a God to catch me? No decision I have made from fear has ever been healthy. 

Instead now I think about my values – my core essence of who I am – when I make decisions. Even big scary ones. And now when I have a big throat full of fear, I know enough to double check that. Is this decision the best for me - is this a sign I am growing and stretching or does it not fit with my values? Am I freezing because of fear or because that is what I need to do to stay true to who I am? Does this choice fit with who I am – is it kind, is it honest, is it trusting, is it generous, is it loving? 

Does this always work out for me? Heck no. Sometimes the brave thing to do is to give someone a second chance when they don’t deserve it and it backfires. Do I regret it? No, because it fit with my values of being kind, generous, loving and trusting. Does this make me seem naïve? Maybe. Maybe a faith in myself, other people and in God is foolish. But I’d rather live my values than miss out on an opportunity to do and be something amazing. And that phrase, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? Nope. For me it is fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice and you’re a dick. I never regret trusting people and if it was a poor choice, that’s a reflection on them, not me.

This has been a season of fighting fear. I was scared out of my mind to be a single parent. I was scared to show others the inside of my life and it wasn’t as great as it seemed. I was scared to walk into church as a single woman, feeling like damaged goods. And I am scared to open up my heart again because for me love has been a lot of pain. But every time these past 2 years I have taken a pause and thought, is this fear making me hesitate or is this a chance to live my values, even if it is scary? Because I will not let fear drive my decisions anymore. As long as it fits who I am, I know I am making the right choice. And I have taken leaps of faith and they have always been worth it. Back to my friend St. Francis, where there is doubt, faith. Amen.

**If you have read my blogs at all, you know that my God and I swear like pirates.

True Colors or What's Really Brave

This spring I was talking to the Moose and he was complaining about the song “True Colors” by Cyndi Lauper. Ugh, this song is the worst! He can’t stand it! He doesn’t want to sing this song for choir! And I am dumbfounded. This song is amazing! Listen to the lyrics! I mean, yes, it’s from the 80’s. Yes, the song is featured in the movie “Trolls” which we can both agree is a terrible movie. But c’mon! “True Colors” is an anthem! Cyndi Lauper sang about being true to yourself and that was okay to be you when other music sang about sex, drugs and broken hearts. It was the first song I remember about loving who you are; now plenty of music talks about how you are special, but back then, not so much. Cyndi Lauper has long been an advocate for the LGBTQ community before we knew what LGBTQ stood for. What is there not to love?

Moose informs me that EVERYONE knows that they should be themselves. It’s plastered all over the school. EVERYONE knows we should respect everyone’s differences and embrace uniqueness. Could we just not have to sing about it too? So it’s diversity fatigue that’s the issue. I was getting nowhere defending this amazing song that is twice as old as my Moose. But diversity fatigue I needed to address.

I look at my Moose. He is lucky. He was born a white male in the United States. There really isn’t a higher class than that. He loves sports. He is great in school. He doesn’t have to worry about being picked on for loving show choir because he also loves playing contact sports. To the best of my knowledge, he isn’t bullied for being different because he ticks off most of the boxes for liking what’s “cool.” He is the size of a small tank, but it works to his advantage. And most importantly, he is good and kind and has a strong sense of right and wrong. I know I’m 1000% biased, but I think he is amazing. For Moose, it is easy to show his True Colors. His True Colors are popular. So how do I explain that his True Colors make it easy to be himself but there are other kids that struggle every single day with who they are. This is a message he is tired of hearing and can’t connect with because it’s easy to be him (relatively speaking.) I’ve got to bring this home.

While it is a poor example of diversity, the only one that I can think will really hit close to his heart and appeal to his Protective Big Brother side. While they fight like cats and dogs, if Moose hears anyone picking on Squirrel, he manages to puff up about three times his size (which is hard to imagine) and listens very closely for details and reminds Squirrel that he would be more than happy to speak to anyone who needs to be reminded that we don’t mess with the Squirrel. So while the Squirrel is also a white male in the United States, he takes a hard turn and marches to his own drummer. And that drummer plays a weird beat that only the Squirrel can hear sometimes. This is what we love about the Squirrel. We never know what to expect from him. The clothes he wears only show the world the outside of his uniqueness; his brain is so quick and sharp that sometimes I have a hard time keeping up with him. Often I just laugh at how quickly he can bend a rule to fit his needs and makes a decent justification for it too. So I start small and begin to explain to Moose what True Colors means for other people.

While Moose’s True Colors are not going to get him shoved into lockers (if you could move him), other people’s True Colors will. He may not see it but kids are picked on for being themselves every day. They are teased for dressing differently, mocked for liking activities that aren’t the norm, bullied for being not white or straight. These kids, who show up and show you who they are, are the brave ones for being themselves even if it isn’t the popular thing to do. Every day they have to wake up and make the decision to show their True Colors even if it means they will be tormented for it. 

Now let’s look at the Squirrel. Remember when he wore his hair down his back? It was so important to him to have long hair. Remember how much he was teased for looking like a girl? Even family members teased him. He put on a strong front because I know we only heard about a fraction of what he put up with. But every day he made a choice to be himself even if it meant his heart would take a beating for it. Moose looked at me. I was starting to get through finally.

Raising strong and sensitive adults when examples of accepted bigotry are on the nightly news is a challenge. I am asking both of my children to be better adults than the roles models we see. I am asking them to be brave enough to be themselves. I am asking them to be brave enough to be compassionate and stand up for others, not because they themselves are being hurt but because it is the right thing to do. And the brave I am asking them to be isn’t half the brave the people who don’t fit the cultural standard have to be every single day. I am asking them to think beyond their own beliefs and to honor and respect others beliefs and truths, even if they don’t fully understand them. 

We don’t always have to understand it to still support it. I can never pretend that I understand what it means to be black in America. I can recognize my ignorance and be sensitive to others’ truths. I cannot experience being discriminated against because of who I love, but I can stand up for the rights of people everywhere in the name of love.

Teaching diversity to children who live in a predominantly white middle class town is a challenge. But it’s our job to remind them that the world does not treat us all the same. And those of us who are privileged need to stand up for others who are not. It’s our duty, no matter what our age is. One phrase that comes up in our house frequently is “with great power comes great responsibility.” I expect the Moose and Squirrel to save the world in some way. And that starts with recognizing that we all have a different True Color and for some of us, it is harder to show. Turns out Cyndi’s song is still relevant today. Who says the 80’s are obsolete?

*If you are looking for some great eye opening resources on race, I highly recommend the books White Fragility and So You Want To Talk About Race.**

Chasing That Elusive Balance or Welcome to Your New Class Schedule of Life

I’ve gotten some great advice as I’ve started my new single mom adventure. Some of the more helpful advice has been how to handle my kid-free time. You see, I never had kid-free time before, which you  probably figured out if you have been reading my blog for a while now. “My time” had to happen between the hours of 4-6 a.m. In that time I had to go to the gym, read, mediate or do anything that resembled self-care. As soon as the clock struck 6 a.m., I was on duty. So now I find myself with more free time in one week than I had in 3 months and lots of my friends have helped me navigate that time (you guys, thank you – I love you!) When the house is quiet, your mind can race and while some deep thinking is healthy, ruminating is not. One of the best and most consistent pieces of advice I’ve received is to do something for me during this quiet time. Another piece of wisdom I got was to do all the work of running a house, like cleaning, running errands, meal prep, groceries, etc. when the kids are gone so you can just have fun time with the kids when they are here.

Because I love challenges, I took this kid-free time by the horns. I wasn’t going to be sad – I would be happy that they have some quality time with their dad without me running the show. It will be good for everyone! I’m over the causes of our divorce – I’ve got a one-way ticket on the train to Happyville! I started tackling all of the household chores and doubling down on self-care whenever the kids were gone. And you know what? I was exhausted when they came back. Sure no one but me had to do any chores in my house but I was so wiped out that I was pretty much sunk the day they got home and it was hard to plan fun carefree things to do. And sadly enough, there is some pressure to be the fun house, a status I will never achieve because I’m Mom and thought we needed to get back into the daily reading habit BEFORE school starts this year. This did not go over well.

Then I realized something. I was setting my boys up to expect their significant others to take care of themselves only when they had “free time.” That chores, groceries, cooking - all the things - magically happen when they are away. And that mothers should only have time for self-care when it is most convenient for the other people of the house. What the heck? Here I was thinking I was nailing this divorce thing, focusing on raising healthy well-adjusted men and I am fucking them up. I am modeling the same behavior that my ex and I modeled for them for years. The woman runs around taking care of everything and everyone but herself – she is allowed to take care of herself when everyone else is asleep or otherwise busy. Because she is ALWAYS ON CALL. Speaking from personal experience, this is not sustainable or healthy for anyone. Stop. Just stop. I cannot believe I have messed this up on this scale. Again.

What am I doing? I am showing my boys that they don’t need to lift a finger. That Mom’s house bears no responsibility – that it is not a team, a family, that lives here. That Mom lives to serve her kids. She will take care of any of her needs only after everyone is fed, clean, happy and asleep. We already did that. It did not work. But here I find us in the same pattern again and it is all my fault. 

Now let me say that my friends’ advice was spot on. This downtime IS time to take care of myself and it’s great to get groceries without a bag of Doritos and a box of oatmeal cream pies stealthily appearing in the cart. But I need to do it in a healthy way where I still require my kids to have some responsibility. As usual, I took the advice a little too far.  

So I started treating my kid-free weekends like little sabbaticals. What did I actually want to do? Did I want to stay in bed until noon reading books and binging on Netflix? Yes! Did I want to go to the gym for two hours? Yes! Cheetos and cereal for dinner? Yes (wait what, I meant salad and mineral water for dinner.) Cleaning all three of the bathrooms? Not so much. What did I want to do right now if I had no responsibilities? I slowed down. Sure, my thoughts caught up to me at first and I had some good soul bearing cry sessions. And then I rested. I didn’t run around the house like I was on fire to make sure everything was perfect for when my little cubs returned. I started saving some chores for them. A family means we all pitch in together. They should expect to have to take care of things in the places that they live. And they should have to help their mother. She works hard at her job, she works hard raising them, and now she will work hard ensuring that they have some skin in the game too.

Then I started thinking about how I saved up all of my self-care for when the kids are gone. Sure, it’s great that I now have some time to take care of myself when they are gone. But when the kids are here, they should respect that I am not a maid or a robot. My self-care should not just take place when they are not here – they need to see me prioritizing myself the same way I prioritize them. That I need fun and rest in my life, even when they are home. No longer will I be the only one standing in the kitchen when everyone else is sitting in the living room chilling out. It is time to model healthy relationships, even if it is one of a single parent. And some of that means that we need to respect that Mom needs downtime too to read a book or go to a fitness class.

So to my mom friends out there. It doesn’t matter if you are married or single. It’s time to start showing our littles that we are people, we are human. It’s time to stop doing all of the everything and make them pitch in a bit. I know they have sports and homework. Guess what. They’ll have those same things in college too and I sure hope you don’t plan to show up to clean their dorm room for them (you guys, I’ve heard of this happening.) We need to teach our kids that as much as we do revolve our worlds around them, the world does not truly revolve around them. Maybe we need to grab a pedicure on the weekend. Or have quiet time to read after a super long day at work. Or go for a quiet walk or listen to a podcast or go to bed early. Or…so many things. And for all of us to be healthy people in our homes it takes a team effort – everyone pitches in and everyone gets to enjoy themselves too.

Let me propose a new class schedule – one that has literal homework:

Laundry 101 – Yes, You Have to Separate
Dishes 102 – Handwashing (pre-req Dishes 101 – Unloading the Dishwasher)
Food 101 – Packing Your Own Lunch and Snack
Lunch – Clear Your Plate
Elective Choice – Dusting or Vacuuming – your pick!
Food 102 – It’s Time to Help with Dinner
Study Hall – Get Your Homework Done Without Being Asked 9 Times
Extracurricular – Let Mom Have Some Quiet Time While You Entertain Yourself Too
Capstone Project - Seeing a task that needs to be done and just doing it without being asked – clearly this is for senior year.

This year the “school year” is starting at home. First up, laundry and dishes. The school supply list? Soap and a lot of patience. Let’s make this school year the best ever! In the effort of full disclosure, I do not have any magical advice to get to this point. It is hard to change the culture of a home. I am going to have to break a lot of bad habits I’ve created and push my boys to move into this more sustainable healthy living style. But I think it’s worth it. I think I’m worth it. I think my boys are worth it. And I think whoever interacts with them in the future is worth it too. Pass the boys the Tide and hand me my book.

The List or Nobody Likes Rotten Zucchini

There is one thing on my phone that I go to more than Facebook, Instagram, or my email. It is The List. That’s right – The List, as in a proper noun. In my house, if someone asks me to fix their train set or remember that the football tshirt order form is due August 9 (fyi), they know it will happen if I add it to The List. Zucchini* doesn’t rot in my fridge, forgotten after I buy it with the best of intentions, because I have added “make zucchini bread” on The List. I don’t know where we’d be without The List.  Probably shirtless eating moldy zucchini watching a broken train set.

The List has been with me for years now. It started out innocently enough, probably a last resort when I couldn’t find a post it. I opened up my Notes on my phone and just started typing a bunch of things I needed at the grocery store. It has since grown to 58 different sublists (no lie – movies I want to see but will forget about, vacations I want to go on someday when I’m rich, my friend Amy’s great corn recipe), but still, there is just one The List – the master of them all. If anything is going to get done, including this blog, it will start off on The List. Even the Squirrel said to me the other day, “Add it to The List!”

Now some people have accused me of being too organized or “controlling.” However, most of those people have benefitted from The List themselves; they are able to randomly throw information in my direction and just count on it getting done. “I need new shoelaces.” Just out there in the universe, expecting new shoelaces to magically appear in the next 24 hours. Waiting for me to grab onto those words and tuck them away for when I go to Target later. Woof. It’s a lot of responsibility to remember everything and since I’m not a robot or a post it note, I carry it around on my phone.

The pressure of maintaining and checking The List periodically throughout the day can be exhausting. I check it first thing in the morning – what needs to be done within the next 24 hours? Then I check it throughout the day – what needs to be done this hour, this minute? I check it at the end of the day – can I cross anything off? What needs to be added? I just realized I don’t own jumper cables – add it to The List! Does The List ever get fully done? Of course not. At the very top of The List is “change address on stock.” I have needed to change my address on this one share of stock I own for the past four years – that’s what happens to the items at the top of The List. On The List, being at the top doesn’t mean you are the most important or urgent item; in fact, if you make the top of The List, it just means that more and more has been added after you and your priority level goes way down. It’s unconventional but The List never promised to be rational. It just promised to be thorough and overwhelming.

The List is becoming a cherished member of the family. We refer to it with reverence. I realize now that what started as a glorified post it has now become my security blanket. Not having to mentally remember everything for everyone is reassuring. I carry The List with me everywhere I go and I look at it when I’m feeling bored or need a pick-me-up, because surely there is something on The List that I could get done quickly to get that little boost you get when you cross something off. The List makes me feel successful and needed. Send email to the teacher. Check! YES!!! Feel those endorphins!

But The List has a dark side too. It teaches the future men in my house that instead of being responsible to remember things themselves, they can toss it to Mom, who will add it to The List so they don’t have to worry about anything. Oh the freedom of never being responsible for your own needs. The List also can be an escape for me, giving me a second to tune out the world but look productive at the same time. Since The List has no end, it can also serve as a stressor by reminding me just how much I have left to do in the day/week/month/year/decade. By Sunday night, I almost always feel like a loser.

So what to do? Well, I’ve been working on lightening my social media and sugar consumption lately. I’m not sure I have the bandwidth to give up my security blanket too. Besides, who will remember that the dog needs medicine or that the kids are low on lunch money or that I need to send birthday cards out this week? And how can I send birthday cards unless I get stamps first – add it to The List! Perhaps I should try to cut down the number of times I reference The List each day, but even that would require a notation in The List – “Review The List only 4 times today.” That sounds as bad as giving up coffee. So for now, I’ll hang on to my security blanket – it makes me feel competent and needed. And to balance the fact that it is a crutch for my Moose and Squirrel to avoid remembering things THEY need to do, I might have them start their own lists (lower case) – I am an expert on creating lists. “Coach the boys to start their own to-do lists.” Check!

*Next time I will use a vegetable that is easier to spell as an example. Zucchini? Is it double “c” or double “n”?

Step Stools versus Sweat or Even Very Smart Squirrels Shouldn’t Climb on my Counters

One of the best times with kids is when their personalities start to shine. I SWEAR that Squirrel was messing with me three days after he was born. He had just come off his feeding tube and we were trying to nurse and he just wouldn’t wake up. The nurse was saying if he didn’t eat at the next feeding, his feeding tube was going back in. I looked down to that little face and pleaded, “Baby, you gotta wake up and eat.” And I swear that sweet little angelic face smirked at me. I looked at the nurse and said, “Did you see that?” She said, “It looked like he smiled…” To this day I know that this was the Squirrel’s first time he screwed with me. And incidentally, that was one of the last meals he’s missed.

So this summer we had a huge fight that stemmed from climbing on my counters. Now that I’m a single mom, I’m a little more sensitive to my loving babies destroying my house because I’m the only one around to pay for repairs. Nothing like a single income to make you start paying more attention to how long a certain Squirrel takes a shower (over 20 minutes and that’s before the golden locks are washed!) or how a certain Moose likes to kick his soccer ball around my living room.

I walked into the kitchen and found my Squirrel climbing onto my counters to reach the highest shelf in the cabinet. I shooed him down and that is all it took. We went round and round about how he could get a chair or step stool to reach what he wanted but I didn’t want him climbing up my counters to reach things. Oh the indignation! I pointed out the obvious reasons for my irrational request –

His Logic
He has always climbed on the counters.
My Logic
He is bigger now and might hurt the counters.
His Response
So now I’m calling him fat!? (Well played)

My Logic
He could get hurt if he falls.
His Logic
He knows what he’s doing!
My Response
It just takes one slip. (Scoff)

Finally Squirrel looks me in the eye and says, “Sometimes life doesn’t need a step stool. Sometimes you gotta climb.” Mic drop. I looked at him and said, “That is one of the coolest things you’ve ever said.” My Squirrel knows a good thing when he hears it and played it off all nonchalant like he says great philosophical things all the time. I said, “You are right – sometimes you do have to climb. Sometimes you have to reach your goals and you can’t take the easy way to do it.” Feeling as though he has won this battle, he replied, “So you see, that’s why I climb on the counters.” Not so fast. “Um, no you still have to use the step stool – your metaphor is for life, not counters.  But I really liked what you said. That was so cool.” He slumped off, puzzled that his fight had fizzled out because I was too busy to think about his words to argue about how he needs to get off my counters. 

The Squirrel is dead on. While it is smart to find the easy way to accomplish a task, sometimes the hard work and sweat is what makes the outcome so sweet. Why drive 26.2 miles when you could run it? Why look at pictures of beautiful forests when you could go hike them? My experience has always shown me that when I work hard for something, I appreciate it so much more. Now whether the Squirrel realizes that his beautiful philosophical statement meant that creativity, perseverance and hard work are the keys to success, I’m not sure. But he’s really on to something.

Squirrel works hard to find the most challenging way to accomplish a task. He looks at situations in a totally unique way and finds the most creative, and sometimes poorly thought out, way to get things done. Moose works his tail off at sports. He goes in early to practices and stays late. I have been working on myself for years so I can bring my best to my babies and those around me. I didn’t know 7 years ago that I would need all of the tools that I have been building for this moment. It would be easy to skip this messy step in parenting as we adjust to our new normal and “use a step stool” and just let us all quietly crumble in our own ways. But I’m reading the books, chatting up the therapists, talking to the kids constantly and having quiet time of my own for deep reflection. Is this easy? No, it is one of the harder things I’ve done in life. But I know it will be worth it. Anything worth doing is hard. The few regrets I have in my life so far have been from taking the easier way instead of the healthier harder route. I am trying to learn from those mistakes.

I listened to a podcast recently that said our positive outcomes to our negative choices are apparent in the now. They are short term gains but with long term negative consequences. But our outcomes to our good choices, the hard choices, are more evident in 6 months or more from now. So when we make a choice, we need to think about how it will affect us in 6 months, not in an hour. For example I’m trying to feed my body better and frankly, it has made my days drag by to not have a sugar rush every few hours. (Don’t even ask if I’m giving up coffee. That is a ludicrous suggestion.) But when I want that Oreo and milk at 9 p.m., I think, will Jenny 6 months from now appreciate it? One Oreo isn’t going to impact me much today but the habit of reaching for sugar instead of just resting with my thoughts will become evident 6 months from now. So the hard work Moose puts into his sports now will hopefully pay off later. The creative ways the Squirrel attacks problems may have short term consequences but future Squirrel will keep learning from his wins and failures and will one day use those lessons to find ways to solve the world’s problems that we haven’t even considered yet. And if I keep doing the rumbling as a parent, asking the hard questions and staying present in the moment, we are all going to come through this messy season in a better healed place, glued together stronger than before as we move forward. Sometimes you have to climb, even if a step stool is easier. Unless it is my counters. Stay off of my counters. The step stool is within reach.

Love Is a Hard Skill or The Blog Where I Say Hope, High Road and Rise WAY Too Much

Recently I had the opportunity to hear the Executive Director of Character Counts speak. He was talking about passion and made the comment that love was a hard skill. Not a skill that is hard to do but that love is hard skill, like accounting, finance, engineering – the opposite of a soft skill. According to the interwebs, a hard skill is acquired and enhanced with training, repetition and practice (by this definition, scooping ice cream is a hard skill – if you don’t believe me, you didn’t work for my boss at Baskin Robbins.) And this just really resonated with me. Maybe because I’m in a season* where I am being challenged to up my love game**.

These last two years I learned what was love and what love wasn’t. I had to make some trust falls and hope people caught me, and the important people did. Some of the people I love the absolute most in this world need me to be there more than ever but they aren’t making it easy and I’m not my best self right now either. What I now know for sure is that if you are not constantly learning how to love and challenging yourself to be better - to love others better, to love yourself better - then you aren’t growing; you are just a stagnate pool of weird algae emotions. And nobody likes swampy feels.

My babies are going through one the hardest changes in life and need me to love them through it. And it can be so hard, so hard. They need my patience and my grace more than ever. They need me to rise above what I want to say and take a higher ground that some days is higher than I can reach. My Squirrel is testing me and I epically fail regularly. I go to bed at night and review all the ways I messed up and just hope that I can get up and be better for him the next day. Despite swearing off of parenting books, I am now reading one on how to help your kids deal with divorce – I wish I had read it sooner because guess what. He’s textbook – it’s just that his normal right now is challenging and scary for me. He is asking me to love as he pushes me away, and while it is easy to say you love everything about a person, the true test is when that person dares you to love him as he wrestles with his emotions. No matter what, I get up and stand by him again every morning. I recognize that the single act of trying again fresh each day is the love he needs right now. He is pushing me beyond the parent I am and I am growing and loving him better for it. Despite our battles, he will learn that he can’t get rid of his Mama, no matter how much he tries.

My Moose loves me and wants to protect me. I see that he wants to be there for me emotionally and that is so sweet. It comes from a good place. Easy love is letting him be an adult before he should and using him as a support system. But I’m still the Mama and that means I’m the one who does the supporting. The love Moose needs is me being gracious to people that have wounded me, trying to model rising above and letting him relax and be a kid. What did Michelle Obama say? When they go low, we go high. It is so much easier to say than do. Taking the higher road sucks. The oxygen is thinner up here and it gives me a headache. The high road is asking to hear all about the weekend I didn’t have with my babies with nothing in my heart but the hope that they had fun. No jealousy and no judgement. Lord help me. I am only human and sometimes I am just not proud of what that human heart feels. But loving my babies means that I have to be a better person than I feel like being for their sake.

Speaking of the Lord…trusting God to have my back requires me to trust in a love that is faith based – hoping beyond hope that things really will work out because of this concept of God’s love. It’s not easy, that’s for sure. It’s downright scary and not natural for me. But I am trying to accept a love I can’t understand. I am trying to grasp that someone might love me beyond my faults and have my best interests at heart. I am trying to understand and accept an unconditional love that does not ask me to be perfect or to prove myself worthy. So many of my relationships in life have felt like perfection and hustle were the cover charge. I am not used to asking for help without giving something in return. I am practicing this thing called praying, hoping it lands true.

Finally, I am practicing loving myself. Shit this is hard. For so long if I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t worthy. And if you know me, you know I am far far far away from being perfect. If I could just hustle harder, be quiet, take care of all things, then maybe I’d be loved. And what I have learned is that I sacrificed myself to earn love – that’s a choice I have to forgive myself for. I have to love myself and that is all that I need. And I don’t have to be perfect to love myself. Now this isn’t easy. I’ll admit I’ve been having some more challenging days with this lately and just feeling kind of down. To kill some time while I was waiting the other day, I was deleting and filing old emails and I stumbled upon one I wrote to myself. If you remember back in February, I called it the Love Month and I decided to write myself a love letter. And there was a whole email in my inbox, written to me, from me, expressing my love for myself. Holy cow I could not have found that at a better time. I read it twice that day and I plan to read it at least once a week because I said some things that I needed to hear. If you can’t love yourself properly, you can’t expect others to do the same. If I could leave you with one action item today, it is this – write yourself a love letter, pouring it all out about what an amazing person you are. You never know when you are going to need to read it.

Love IS a hard skill. If we are lucky we are constantly stretched in our capacity to love. One of my favorite sayings is anything worth doing is hard. And love is worth doing. I believe that when we are given chances to grow, it means we will be asked to use those skills in the future. At some point we will be asked to rise up and, if we have been paying attention, we will have the new life tools necessary to be of service to someone who needs our help. I have had so many opportunities to improve my love muscle that my future must be full. I can’t wait.

*Oh my gosh I hate the phrase “season.” And yet, here I use it. #toomuchtherapy

**The new dating show on CBS coming up this fall. Insert eye roll here…

Dating Profile Fail or Which Way Do I Swipe

It has come to my attention that I may want to date again sometime. The last time I went on a date was in the 1990’s, you know when the internet was still a baby and we thought flip phones were the best thing ever made. I remember back in college someone sent me virtual flowers and it ended up being a website with a picture of roses on it. He was so proud and all I could think of was “What the fuck am I supposed to do with a picture of flowers? Give me the real thing!” Now I find myself in 2019 and freshly single and 20+ years older than I was when I got married. How does someone even meet people these days? I’m way too old for the bar scene and I don’t feel confident picking up someone in the grocery store. Where else do I frequent? Target? The gym? Kwik Star? Costco is classy right? I feel like I’m going to be pretty limited.

There are apps for dating now and all I know is that swiping right is different than swiping left. Unfortunately years of teaching aerobics where I had to mirror my participants means I mix up my right and left consistently which might be problematic. What also frightens me is that my teenage Moose still laughs at me because I can’t figure out Snapchat (“just tap it, don’t swipe it!”) – if I can’t get out of a story in Snapchat, how will I ever figure out online dating? I’ve had more than one embarrassing moment asking Moose to get me out of the Kardashian story I’ve “accidently” clicked on. And then, let’s say I figure out how to work the app, which one do I choose? Match? Bumble? Tinder (no)? Farmer’s Only (no)? Coffee Meets Bagel (this has potential)?  

Then there is the pressure of presentation. I’ve gotten tips like, don’t use your real name and advice about what types of photos to use. My selfie game has gotten better – I always look better if I take the picture from above, which is fortunate because I’m 5’1 so most people are looking down on me, which gives me a much better looking chin so it won’t feel so much like false advertising. I’ve got about 30 extra divorce pounds I’m carrying around that I’d love to shed – these were originally baby weight but I’ve upgraded them to divorce pounds now because if you’ve been reading my blogs lately, you know there have been a lot of donuts. A lot. Perhaps the pictures wait until I am in a more flattering state…

And how do you start a profile? A profile? I’m not even sure where to start…

Tired mom of two boys, one of which hates her most days
Over 40 yo woman with limited time looking for someone who would like to read on the sofa next to her
Like cats?
Doesn’t eat steak so I’m a cheap date
Can’t ride a bike but likes to listen to podcasts

What if I let my kids help write it?
“She is pretty nice unless you make her mad. She makes you come in for bedtime at 9:30 p.m. and says if you are hungry, you need to eat a fruit or vegetable first because if you are really hungry you will be happy to eat either of those and won’t complain they are not a Poptart. Also she makes you wear sunscreen even if she does not. She does like to listen to the music loud in the car. And she swears. A lot.”

I’m not sure the kids would be the best people to write up my profile. The last time the Squirrel wrote something about his mom at school, he mentioned that he loves me because I buy things for him. That is not the kind of man I want to attract.

Maybe if I just start with a list of wants and turn offs in a relationship?

Wants	Turn Offs
Kind	Dishonest
Funny	Uptight
Intelligent	Humorless
Responsible	Irresponsible
Trustworthy	Angry
Honest	Smoker
Driven	Aimless
Active	Golfer*

*Okay, golfing isn’t a deal breaker. As long as we understand that this will be a solo hobby because I don’t golf and don’t want to because I hate it. At least until my idea of Tackle Golf catches on – combining the elements of football with golf. Picture it - while the golfer is lining up to take the shot, a full defensive line is charging down the green. Better get the shot off before you are sacked! Now that is golf I will watch!

And let’s say I make it to the point where I actually get asked on a date. What does one even do on a date now? My social calendar is usually one of two things – running after my kids at their events or going to the gym. The more I write the more I realize I’m a pretty boring person! I know that Netflix and Chill has a whole different meaning than binge watching the Office with my kids. Do I have to go to the bars now? That’s not a big thing for me and besides, after about 2 drinks, I don’t make good choices. And dancing? I love dancing but nothing makes me feel old and fat than a Zumba class. I’m not sure that’s the mentality I need if I am meeting new people. And honestly, I’ve seen myself in the mirrors at Zumba class. It’s not pretty. Can we just read books at Freedom Coffee? Or catch a football, basketball or soccer game? And I need to be home by 9 p.m. because that’s my bedtime.   

So here’s the thing. I don’t think I’m ready to get out there yet. A few months ago I wrote that I wanted to take a hiatus of a year after the divorce is finalized to figure out who I am now. I don’t know if I will need a whole year off  but the fact that I can’t write a dating profile because I’m not sure what I like to do or what kind of person I’m looking for (not a golfer or a smoker) is a pretty good indicator that I’m not quite ready to date yet. But what is cool is that I realized I’m not looking to fill a hole in my life. My life is full and awesome right now as it is. I’ve got two great kids, amazing friends and family and just enough free time now to read a book or watch a R rated movie. I'm actually enjoying getting to know myself again. I know I’m not seeking a father to my kids - they already have one. I don’t need someone to pay my bills - I can do that myself. I just want to have fun meeting new people and learning a little bit more about the world out there. I want to be inspired by other people’s experiences and have new ideas to think about. I want to make some awesome new friends along the way or at least walk away with some great stories. And that’s the kind of attitude I think I’ll need when I’m ready to move on. In the meantime, it's way past my bedtime if I want to get up to hit the gym tomorrow morning. #supercoolfunsingleperson #not

Dating Profile
I love to laugh but don’t like mean-spiritedness. I like to dream big and am always looking for new challenges but not looking to fix someone. I want someone who makes me think and grow. Dishonesty is a deal breaker. I love books, exercise, health, donuts and writing. I am scared of fish and most dogs but spiders don’t bother me. I am looking to have fun and meet new people. I want someone with a big heart, kind but with a sense of humor. Oh, and must be okay with swears.
867-5309