I could label it unpreparedness, or perhaps the scattered brain of a creative. I could call myself unorganized, or better yet – unfocused. I could blame it on pregnancy (I get to use that excuse for two more months), or I could simply call it confusion (kids kill brain cells? Can I say that? Is that even a scientifically verifiable fact?)
What it all boils down to is this: Most of the time, I don’t have things together. I’m betting you don’t, either.
From the outside looking in, it may seem I’ve got life in order. For the most part, my children are somewhat put together. My house isn’t a pit of horrors (not today, anyway), and 90% of the time we get to where we need to be on time.
And by “on time,” we all understand that I mean within 10 minutes of when we were supposed to be there.
But I’m not going to lie: I often feeling like I’m barely keeping my head above water. I’m treading fast, kicking against a current that wants to pull me down, and while I suck in deep breaths, forcing oxygen to my brain, I remind myself over and over to enjoy this. Enjoy the heck out of this life, cause it’s the only one you get.
It’s the whole “Seize the Day” mentality. I’m seizing.
I’ve got the flippin’ day by the tail, my friends. Tally-Ho!
But I get tired, and my metaphors start blending together, and I fall short. I snap at my kids, and I throw my hands in the air with exasperation over silly little things. I fight the urge to hole up in a corner with my phone and lose myself to the false reality of Instagram and Facebook, because I know that most of the pretty photos on those sites are filtered to make life look like sunshine and bunnies all the time.
Summer is coming to a close, and a part of me is so sad. 88% of the time I really do love having my kids around. They’re fun, and they make me laugh. They’re a lot of work, but as hectic as the days get, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Part of me is doing back flips, though.It’s the subconscious part of me that’s not 52 months pregnant.
I’m overwhelmed with all the small people that filter through my house on a constant basis. They’re tired of one another, and they, too, end up exasperated over silly little things. The constant go-go-go of our days has me exhausted, but there’s no time to nap. No rest for this weary Mom.
So the scheduled days of school will be welcomed with both reluctance and jubilee…by everyone in our house.
Such is life, right?
There are pro’s and con’s to every season. Each phase leaves us excited and exhausted, ready to move forward and longing to stay where we are. Sometimes we even wish we could revisit the past, just for a few precious moments in time.
For those of you winding down your summer and preparing to step into the future with your kids, I share your pangs of sorrow and your whoops of joy. If your summer was anything like ours, it was packed full of fun, of time together, and of a hearty dose of relaxation. It truly was a summertime with an agenda packed full of awesome.
I raise my proverbial glass in a toast to you parents now. Let us tip back our drinks in celebration. Let us commiserate the passage of time. Here’s to another fabulous school year.
I had this imaginary friend growing up. Actually, she was more than just my imaginary friend, she was my imaginary twin sister. Her name was Janine, and we had a grand old time together until about the 4th grade when it began to dawn on me that playing with an imaginary sister was probably not the most socially acceptable form of free play.
Still, there were occasions for another year or so when I’d revisit my memories of time spent with Janine. I vividly remember that letting her go was a difficult thing for me to do, but the maturing part of my brain new it was a necessary task.
The funny thing about imagination is that it feels so very real, yet we know without a doubt that the created world inside our heads is false. For children, imaginative play is key to development, with some children exhibiting much better ability at tapping into their inner creativity than others.
For adults, imagination can often lend itself to fear. We know too much about the heartaches of this world, and that knowledge works against us.
There is something quite magical that happens, however, when an adult is able to tap into the healthy places of her imagination. This is where art is created – where stories take shape, paintings bloom on blank canvas, culinary masterpieces are placed on the table, and empty walls are filled with design.
Creativity is birthed in imagination, if we allow ourselves the space to let our minds soar.
Here are three easy steps to tapping into your imagination:
1.) Sit and think.
How often do we sit still as adults? Do we ever allow our minds the space to breathe and expand? For the busy mother, caught in the throes of parenting, sitting in silence is likely an unknown luxury. We hit the ground running from sun up to sun down, and at the end of the day, when given a few precious evening moments, often the television draws us in as the perfect zone out.
But what would happen if you gave yourself five or ten, or even more, minutes a day to just sit in the quiet? To think? To day dream? To imagine?What could you create in that quiet space? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps it would do no more than simply leave you refreshed, allowing you to create at a later time.
But maybe you would find that a whole wealth of ideas lay dormant in your muddled brain. If you’re a creative at heart, I guarantee those ideas are there. They’re just waiting to be discovered.
2.) Get your hands dirty.
There’s something about digging in and working that tends to wake up a dormant brain. While most mothers work themselves to the bone every day preparing meals, washing clothes, cleaning the house, and tending to the 642 needs that seem to arise every hour, we don’t often get away and work on something for the sheer pleasure of working on it.
We don’t let work be a time to engage our brains. Instead, we shut our minds down , laying all thought on the altar of the next necessary task.
Creatively freeing work will look different for everyone. For some, it’s the act of exercising. For others, it’s getting out in the yard and pulling weeds. Some simply need to do the creative work they love to do, while others find that their souls breathe when they’re scrubbing a bathtub.
Figure out what type of work engages the creative side of your brain and make a plan to do it as frequently as you possibly can.
3.) Laugh more.
According to WebMD, some researchers believe that laughter is one of the best, natural medicines.
“We change physiologically when we laugh. We stretch muscles throughout our face and body, our pulse and blood pressure go up, and we breathe faster, sending more oxygen to our tissues.
People who believe in the benefits of laughter say it can be like a mild workout — and may offer some of the same advantages as a workout.
One pioneer in laughter research, William Fry, claimed it took ten minutes on a rowing machine for his heart rate to reach the level it would after just one minute of hearty laughter.” From Give Your Body a Boost – WebMD
While laughter is not guaranteed to make you more creative, it is almost certain to lift your spirit, giving you energy, excitement, and the added benefit of joy that often births a creative splurge.
Look for the humor in every day life, and when you see it go ahead and laugh out loud. Just driving down the road gives plenty of laughable material, from the irony in roadside signs (“Huge Garage Sale” planted firmly in front of 4 worn items) to the goofy things your children say on a day to day basis.
“Hey Mom. When you get married, how long can you kiss your husband? And what do you do if you are kissing and you want to stop. Do you just yell, ‘Stop!’ with your lips pressed on his?”
You don’t have to invent an imaginary twin sister to tap into your imagination. With a little bit of effort, and the willingness to carve out a few moments of your day, you could find that a creative muse lay dormant just below the surface.
There is a common belief that women are not only good at multi-tasking, but we thrive on it. While I have no doubt that many women fall into this category of master multi-taskers, I’ve found that, for myself, as years go by I have become less and less deft at the art of multi-tasking. It seems that I can focus on one event at a time these days, and before I can move forward with the next momentous step, I must get through the packed days before me.
We have 28 days of summer vacation left. As always, the time has flown by and we haven’t fit in all the fun I’d intended to fit in when school ended. Perhaps this is because I always set expectations just a smidge too high?
This is quite possible.
I counted today, and there are 60 days until baby is due. That seems like it should be a long time, but considering how fast time has flown by already, I’m anticipating that the remaining two months until she arrives will be a blur.
If I sit down and think of all that needs to be accomplished in the next 60 days, or all that I still want to do in the next 28, I feel my heart race. Anxiousness sets in and I want nothing more than to hole up in a corner with a good book and pretend it isn’t happening.
Life can easily be measured in momentous events. We can move from one big thing to the next without even enjoying the moments in between. This is the danger that I face, that we all face, every single day. Will I enjoy what today has to offer, or will I get lost in the looming deadline of 28 days, 60 days, and so on…
Part of me dreads the end of this summer break. I love summer, and (most of the time) I love having my kids home with me. While a piece of me craves the routine that school brings with it, the other part of me mourns the thought of those measured out days.
Equally, I feel both anticipation and trepidation at the thought of welcoming our daughter in 60(ish) days. I can’t wait to meet her…but also I can.
There’s a lot to be done between now and then, but most importantly, my goal is not to dwell on the measured length of the days we have left. I want to enjoy today for all it has to offer. The quiet of this morning, and the laziness of today. Friends coming to town, family fun at the beach, sleepovers with friends, and late night movies.
There’s nothing I can do about the life deadlines looming before me, but I can enjoy the moments in between. I have to try, anyway. The alternative is to live from big event to big event, and all the little moments would be lost in the shuffle.
And what is life without the little moments, right?
How do you keep yourself from living from one big event to the next? How do you balance living out your days with planning for the future? What do you do when life feels measured by the days instead of moments?
I am giving myself permission to do something that I haven’t allowed myself to do in the six and a half years I’ve been blogging.
I am going to take a break.
Funny story: Last week, Lee and I decided to take a spontaneous family trip to Gatlinberg, Tennessee. We rarely take vacations just the five of us – in fact, I honestly am not sure we’ve ever taken a vacation just the five of us. Most of our trips consist of traveling with people, or traveling to see people.
The problem is, I got my dates wrong. I was certain that I made our hotel reservation for Wednesday to Sunday, with the plan being we would leave Tuesday, drive half way, and arrive Wednesday. So I’ve been frantically trying to get us packed and ready to leave tomorrow for three weeks away, because after Gatlinberg, we’re sending Tia to camp in Crossville, TN, while the rest of us go to Nashville. And from there, we’re all headed to Arkansas for a week.
Are you exhausted, yet?
I realized just this morning that our hotel reservations are actually Thursday to Sunday, which means we’re leaving a day later than planned, which kind of disappoints me, honestly. But I’m also a bit relieved because trying to pack for three weeks in three different locations was giving me palpitations.
My brain is on serious summer overload, which normally wouldn’t be too much of a problem; however, I happen to be 64 27 weeks pregnant, which means sleep is already elusive. Add to that a little stress, and this mama ends up tired and emotional.
In an effort to not throw myself into an early labor, I’m unloading a few things from my plate. I simply don’t have the mental capacity to generate decent blog content right now. As it is, I already have a few deadlines pressing down on me for other sites (the ones that actually pay me to write), and I’m in the final stages of editing my e-book, which I will hopefully get to the designer in the next few days.
So I’m going to take a couple of weeks off in this space. I’m going to breathe a little, enjoy my family, read a few books, unplug, and take in a little fresh, mountain air.
I’ll be updating on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter on occasion if you want to keep up with our family and see whether or not it really was a good idea to take a trip to the mountains at 28 weeks pregnant.
Also, Lee and I are attending a celebrity charity dinner in Nashville on Sunday night. Tune in to see what my gigantic belly looks like in a nice dress, and to see if I get to rub elbows with Carrie Underwood, or if I simply stalk her from across the room.
I’ll come back here in a couple of weeks when the dust of family fun time has settled, and I can string together a coherent sentence outside of, “Did you pack your toothbrush? What about underwear?”
In the meantime, I hope all of you are enjoying some fun in the sun this summer break. Sit back with a good book, a tall glass of iced tea (sweetened, of course), and take some time to breathe.
I’ve had three posts go live this week, so rather than try to write some more words, I think I’ll just share the ones I’ve already labored over. So, without further ado…
She said the words softly, her voice halting as she looked forward out the front window. I leaned a little closer, trying to decode the sentence. My Russian is rusty, and though I understood each word, when strung together with the many grammar rules, I couldn’t quite figure out exactly what she was asking.
“What?” I asked. A single word in her tongue seemed to give her a little more confidence. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and took a deep breath.
“I will call you Mama?” she asked.
It took a minute for the words, and the meaning behind them, to sink in. She had only been with us for three days, so I worried that maybe I was still not fully understanding.
“You want to call me Mama?” I asked. She looked at me with glistening eyes and nodded.
“Is it okay?” she asked.
I nodded back, wordless not because I couldn’t find the words in Russian, but because the lump in my throat had blocked all sound.
Last Christmas we hosted a young girl in our home for one month. Through an organization called New Horizons for Children, we had the blessing of opening our home to “K,” a child who knew more heartache in her short 17 years than I likely will in my lifetime.
Abandonment. Death of a parent. Life in an institution. Loneliness and fear.
These are words that identified her past, but in our home, we had the privilege of telling her that she is loved, she is worthy, she has value on this earth, and she will always have an advocate.
I’ve been asked several times what I think about orphan hosting through programs such as New Horizons, and others like them, that bring children to the United States each summer and winter.
There are Pros and Cons, and I’d like to offer my thoughts on these hosting programs.
When I had my first child, everything shifted. I welcomed the shift, because as I held his warm body next to mine, I realized that the entire meaning of my life had now taken a new course. No one can really prepare you for that when you are expecting your first child. It’s simply something that happens. It’s a good thing.
t can also lead to an identity crisis.
Before having children, I operated in full freedom. Putting faith in action seemed so much easier then, because I could get up and go when I felt like I needed to. Add a child to the mix, however, and suddenly everything gets a little more complicated. It happened rather slowly. In fact, I didn’t even realize it was happening until many years later, when I had three children, all pulling at my feet and vying for my undivided attention.
“Mom, I have three different things I could do when I grow up, and I don’t how to decide.”
I suppressed a smile at the earnest concern in her voice. Genuine worry laced her eight year old face, and I pulled her close to me on the couch. This is the child who hates to make decisions. She’s so fearful of making the wrong decision that even breakfast can turn into an ordeal of tears if not handled with grace and patience.
“Well,” I said gently, “what are your options?”
“I want to be a gymnast’s coach, a soccer coach, or a doctor. But I also want to be a mom. How will I decide what to do?”
My first born ambled up at that point. He’s trapped in that phase right now between boy and man. He’s long and sinewy, all knees and elbows. He still dreams like a child, but I see the practicality creeping in.
“I’m going to be a missionary,” he says. “I want to help people who don’t have anything. Or…” he pauses, conflicted. “Well, I kind of want to be a professional golfer, too.”
They both look at me then, as though I will have all the answers to these life decisions that seem so important right now. Before the youthful freckles have faded, and the white blonde strands of hair darken into a more mature golden, they want to know the future. They want me to tell them what to do.
For those of you winding down your summer and preparing to step into the future with your kids, I share your pangs of sorrow and your whoops of joy. If your summer was anything like ours, it was packed full of fun, of time together, and of a hearty dose of relaxation. It truly was a summertime with an agenda packed full of awesome.
