Tag: mommy blog

Stuff

I’m sorry for the bad quality. I literally took a picture of this Tweet and put it up here. Hank Green is one of those science guys on Twitter (a Bill Nye kind of guy) who helps to explain science to us unscientific types. This is one of the first photographs from the James Webb Space Telescope. Mind blowing. So many responses to this tweet referred to “existential dread.” Sometimes I wonder if “existential dread” is actually synonymous with “egotistical dread.” OMG, what?!? We’re not the center of the Universe?! Our current drama that’s playing out is not actually all that important at all?!? I honestly don’t feel dread when I read about scientific discoveries like this. I feel peace. I like the relief and the quick change in perspective that it gives to me.

In other news, I read this profound quote the other day:

Everybody has a heart; you just have to find the location.
— “The Goldbergs,” “The New Landlord” (1949)

Playing detective to find out what is really at the heart of any matter, explains a lot. Last night, I was at a dear friend’s house, and we were trying to help another friend understand why she had quit doing one of her great passions/purposes/talents in life (something which she loves to do as much as I love to write, maybe even more, and honestly she is better at it, than I am at writing). It turns out that what was stopping her from doing her avocation was related to a great loss that she had experienced, which was closely tied to her passion project. My one caring, questioning friend helped our dear friend get to this heart of the matter, and the relief that our bereaved friend seemed to feel, coming to this realization, made me hopeful that she will resume with her passion soon again. What is near and dear to anyone’s heart is found in the tender, vulnerable parts of what matters to that person the most. And everybody has at least one thing, or at least one person, that matters to them greatly, and that is where they store most of the whole of their precious, beating heart.

On a lighter note, my second eldest son and I had a text exchange, in which we were discussing his longtime girlfriend’s upcoming birthday. My son is in medical school and if he weren’t in medical school, he probably would have been an engineer. He is a science geek. My son would adore the first part of my blog post and would already be off looking for more information on the Webb telescope without finishing the post. “Subjective” is his least favorite word. He was the kid whom I always had to remind, “DO NOT touch any buttons or levers anywhere, at any time, do you understand?” In my humble opinion, he tends to be a tad practical, and perhaps not quite sentimental enough, when it comes to getting his girlfriend gifts. So, I texted him this thought:

“I read something that you should never buy a woman something that has a cord.”

His reply:

“Hahaha Damn, I’m glad I’m not a woman then.”

And of course when I mentioned this text exchange to my antagonistic youngest son, this son went on to give plenty of examples of women who love receiving fancy curling irons and blow dryers and he reminded me of all of the women who buy power tools from him every single day. (I get it. I get it. Perhaps I should have been more direct in my communication about maybe finding something with a cord, that also may have some sentimental value, or perhaps I should learn to just butt out – something that I need to work on every single day of my life. Yes, I can be nosy. I can be bossy. My heart is usually in the right place, but still, I need to work on these attributes of mine, this I know.)

I think I’ll end this post with a word that I learned from Rex Masters on Twitter the other day. It is a Japanese word: kuchisabishii – it means the times that you are not hungry, but you eat because your mouth is lonely. My mouth is lonely a lot. In fact it’s kind of lonely right now, so I am going to sign off. See you tomorrow!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Danger Zone

On Thursday, my two youngest children (ages 18 and 21) and I went to see the new Top Gun movie. It was great. It wasn’t deep or meaningful or even gut wrenching. (The first Top Gun was a little gut wrenching. Goose’s death was honestly a little devastating in that movie.) Top Gun: Maverick was just fun and thrilling and action-packed and entertaining and perhaps even a little self-deprecating.

It’s fun to watch my young adult children’s appreciation of the things that marked my own coming of age in the 1980s. They loved the Top Gun movie and they even loved the original, which they watched before we went to go see the new one. I’ve even heard a few of my own teenage boom box favorite songs, playing on their playlists, and they think that Winona Ryder is just terrific. (albeit as the mom in Stranger Things)

My generation, Gen X, throughout the years has often been portrayed as angsty and aimless and forgotten, but when I am reminded of what Gen X has brought into being, from a cultural sense, I see the fun, and the lightness, and the goofiness, and the “go with the flow” which has marked our generation. I see a timeless, unapologetic, “chilled out” individualism that is so attractive in these times of constant judgment and aggravation amongst different groups of people. These days we are so busy shifting blame, assigning shame, and putting labels on everybody and everything, that we forget that life is mostly supposed to be an amazing adventure to be experienced without definitions. Sometimes, it’s important to just sit back, and take a fun, meaningless ride on the “Highway to the Danger Zone.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

To Be Home

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Is there any more delicious of a feeling, than basking at being home, and being unscheduled at home? After experiencing over a month of one major thing to do, or place to go, after another, being at home right now, in this moment, feels luxuriously restful, safe and rejuvenating to me. There is no bed that feels more comfortable than your own bed, and there is no place on Earth that you feel more yourself, than your own home. I have often thought that sometimes the absolute best part of being away from home, is the appreciation that you feel for home, when you return to its loving grace. It is not surprising to me, that when people pass on, their loved ones are often comforted with the words, “He’s at home now. She’s home now, and at peace.” Home is equivalent to peacefulness and tranquility and comfort and serenity. Peacefulness is our true home.

Again

I am here at the freshman orientation at my daughter’s university. This entire month has been a whirlwind of activity and all of it with emotion attached to it. I am eager for a quieter, more steady month in June.

Since I have four children, I have had the interesting experience of being considered one of the young moms for my eldest son (I had him when I was 25), and one of the older, more seasoned moms with my daughter, our youngest child. All four of my children have (or will have) attended the same university. At this point, I honestly think that I could run this orientation myself. Still, it is new and fresh and exciting to my daughter and I am thrilled for her. I am also thrilled for all of the first-time university parents who will attend today’s events with wide eyes and lumps in their throats. Today, in my older, seasoned mom role, I want to hug all of them and let them know that it will be okay. It’s all going to be okay. In fact, it’s going to be great. This is just another doorway into new and fresh adventures for the entire family. And it will be amazing.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Scrapbooks and Cherries

I Am Pieces Wall Quotes™ Decal | WallQuotes.com

My daughter and I are headed on a mother/daughter road trip this weekend, starting today. My daughter turned eighteen in March, and she is starting college early this June. We have been planning this getaway for a while, just the two of us. I never believed in raising your kids like they were your friends. My husband and I definitely leaned a little towards the strict side when raising our four children. In retrospect, I think that is why it has been so easy to become friends with them now, as we are all adults. There is a mutual respect. They are all adults whom I really like, and whom I find interesting and fun to be with. And by the excitement which my daughter has shown for this trip, she must feel the same way about me. This feels wonderful. Like Brooke Hampton states in the quote above, I am going to be adding another page in the “scrapbook of me” this weekend. And it could likely end up being one of those pages which I turn to again and again, to relive the fun memories in my mind. And while my daughter and I have a lot of fun destinations we plan to go to, and to explore each day, the entire journey is really made up of all of the little stuff: the songs we will sing along to on the ride, the giddiness we felt while planning and anticipating the trip, and the funny little anecdotes that will happen that we could never have planned on experiencing. I think this is why trips are so great. Trips are really a microcosm of all of our own lives’ adventures. We decide to become mothers, so we get pregnant or we adopt a baby, and mothering is all that we experience on the long and windy road to getting our children securely to their adulthoods. We decide to become our career choices, so we apply to schools, and we learn the lessons and the skills of the trade we want to do, and we take our first jobs, and once again, the real experience is the journey of where our jobs and careers take us. The final destination of anything in life, is always just the small delightful cherry on top of it all. And we savor the cherry. We chew it up, soak up the juices, and then we quickly tend to start all over again, planning a new destination to achieve, because the adventures which take us to our chosen destinations are really what life is all about.

120 Best Quotes About Journey and Destination - Quotesjin

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

What’s Left?

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Sometimes I come to this blog and I think, what is there left to say? Haven’t I already written it all down? Aren’t I just constantly saying the same thing, just in different ways? And who am I saying it to – myself, my readers, the Universe?? Why do I have such an urgent need to write my thoughts down, constantly and everywhere? Then I look at one of my treasure troves of quotes from my readings, in one of my many inspirational notebooks and I think to myself, “Wow, everything that moves me generally falls into the same themes.” And then the quote that comes to my mind, from “The Boss” himself, in the words of Bruce Springsteen, “I’m just so tired and bored with myself.”

Besides the blog, (Okay here’s an interjection. I had to look up whether it is “beside” or “besides” and The Grammar Guru said this: “People sometimes confuse the correct usage of “beside” and “besides.” “Beside” is a preposition that means “close to” or “next to.” “Besides” is also a preposition that means “in addition to” or “apart from.” It’s can also serve as an adverb that means “furthermore” or “another thing.” I am so grateful for Google and the Internet. I rely on it so much. I think that is why I didn’t seriously start writing a lot until middle age. I needed the instant gratification of Dr. Siri, the English professor, to keep me on track. I also use the online thesaurus a lot, as a writer. Other writers, are there any online tools which I’m missing out on??) I also write a brief daily journal which I have kept for years, and last night I purchased yet another journal. (this is starting to make me seem narcissistic. I just can’t get enough of myself. Puke.) The journal I purchased last night is called Mom’s Bedtime Journal. The daily prompts are this: Today’s Highs and Lows. We used to do this at the dinner table when my kids were younger. We called it High Point/Low Point. Sometimes this exercise was funny and interesting. Sometimes it was boring and long and drawn out. Sometimes it was dramatic and ridiculous. It was always amusing, and we always tried to end on a “High Point.” The next prompt in Mom’s Bedtime Journal is One Thing I Did For Myself Today. That’s a good one. It works as a good reminder. Yesterday, I went on a nice, long, refreshing bike ride. And I wrote it down on the lines after this prompt. Next prompt: Something Funny or Cute My Kids Did/Said. Hmmmm. This is something that I wish I had done when my kids were little. Write the cuteness down! We have a few family favorite cute stories that we recycle and rehash constantly in our family lore, but I wish I could remember all of them. I’ll try to do more of this recording of cuteness when I have grandchildren who do and say cute things, before they grow up and get snarky and less adorable. Final prompt: Today’s Small Wins. I like that focus. A bunch of small wins add up to the big wins in life, right? Somedays, even taking a shower can be a small win. The journal pages end each night with “. . . Sweet Dreams“. Awww. That’s so nice.

One time a friend of mine said that my blog reminds her of having a daily phone call with a good friend. And if this were a phone call, this is about the time that you have listened enough to my ridiculous, meandering, “where is she going with this?” thoughts. This is the time for you to say, “Oh no! Someone’s at the door! I’m going to have to say good-bye. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

Sentimental Saturday

“My son has started calling me “mom” instead of “momma” or “mommy” and no one has prepared me for how devastating this is.” – @kelly_le (Twitter)

I saw this quote the other day and I found it to be so relatable. It is one of those first steps of independence your children take to move away from you, and you know that it has to happen but it still hurts. It’s proof that you are doing your job right, but it definitely causes a mother’s heart to pang a little bit. I remember being well into my early adulthood and my father would still tell us to, “Go ask Mommy,” even though we hadn’t called her “Mommy” for many, many years.

And staying with my sappy, sentimental side (What can I say? It’s Mother’s Day weekend), I read this idea the other day, that honestly, I never had heard before. The thought is that people die twice in their lives. The first time is their bodily death, and the second time is when the person’s name is no longer spoken. I honestly that think this is a beautiful idea. My grandfather used to hold our hands and squeeze them and say “Onka Dunka”. He told us it meant, “I love you.” I squeezed my children’s hands and said “Onka Dunka” to them all of the time. I hope that they will pass the tradition on. It keeps my grandfather alive.

“Every man has two deaths, when he is buried in the ground and the last time someone says his name. In some ways men can be immortal.” – Ernest Hemingway

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Emotional Labor

Over the weekend I read a term that I have always talked (and often griped about) about, but never had a true name for it. The term is “emotional labor.” And “emotional labor” is something that we women, in particular, tend to take on, in our roles as wife/partner/mother/daughter/sibling/friend. It often comes under the heading of “thoughtfulness”, but it was refreshing for me to finally see it listed as “labor” because frankly, emotional labor can be every bit as exhausting as the physical labor of chores around the house, and yet it is “hidden” and often underappreciated.

When our family was younger, I was fortunate that my husband was always more than willing to lend a helping hand with the household duties, even though he was/is the primary breadwinner and I was/is the stay-at-home parent. My husband was, and is, really helpful and useful around the house. My biggest complaint when raising our four young children, was always more one of pure mental exhaustion. I often would say, “I wish that someone would just hand me a to-do list that I could just do, without having to think about everyone and everything. I wish someone would just tell me what to order for everyone at McDonalds.”

Emotional labor refers to knowing all of the intricacies of all of the household’s and all of the family members’ concerns, needs, daily activities, schedules etc. and organizing it all, and making it all come together. It’s keeping tracking of all of the “stuff” that is only noticed when it doesn’t happen. (prescriptions, birthday parties/presents, dry cleaning, household essentials like toothpaste and toilet paper, people’s allergies and food preferences, setting up household repairs, pet grooming appointments, what to have and when to have dinner, doctor/dentist appointments, preparing for holidays and celebrations, social calendars, empathizing with the ups and downs of our loved ones lives, etc.) Sure, people may be more than happy to pick up the dry cleaning for you, but are they the ones thinking that it needs to be done, in the first place?

In all fairness, a lot of us tend to be “micromanagers” around our households. We want things done, or even not done, in our own particular way, and we develop grumbly attitudes of, “I’ll just do it MY way, so that it gets done the “right” way.” We don’t like to be told how, or when to do anything. We don’t like to feel controlled. But then we get aggravated when we feel like we are “doing it all,” or at the very least, “planning it all.” We start to become mopey, victimlike martyrs, not being good company for ourselves, or for anyone else.

As our kids have grown and our household has become less harried and busy and scattered, and our marriage has matured and progressed into its third decade, our division of chores feels more comfortable to my husband and me. We communicate better about our needs and our expectations. Honestly, when it comes to our yard and to our cars, I don’t think about them much, unless my husband hands a “to-do” list to me. It works for us. Still, I have a tendency to take on more of the “emotional labor” and I even sometimes create “emotional labor” that truly isn’t mine to take on. When I feel this frustration with my “emotional labor overload” happening, I know that it is time for me to sit back, and to reflect on how my daily life is going.

Often we feel more upset and resentful about our “emotional labor” when we aren’t creating enough “me time” for ourselves. Lately, with the business of my daughter graduating and all of her end-of-year activities, I have let more things creep into my sacred “me time.” I have allowed myself to get drained and irritable. I like long, leisurely, meandering, quiet, unscheduled mornings in which I can mostly focus on reading and on writing. When I give myself this time, the rest of my day flows more easily and I do my everyday chores happily and efficiently. When I give myself my “me time”, I feel better about the things that I do for others. However, in recent days, I have noticed that I have allowed more “stuff”, like appointments, phone calls, texting, chores, organizing, bills, other people’s wants and needs, etc. to creep into my sacred me-time and it is wearing on me. I’ve had to remind myself that I am in control of my time, and of my needs, and I can reign in my “emotional labor” instead of letting it take a life of its own, to bog me down.

I felt sort of a weight lifted off of my shoulders to have an actual, defining term for what I think has often been one of my biggest complaints in life: “emotional labor.” That’s what I love about the written language. When I can communicate what I am feeling, I can better understand my feelings, and I can better understand what I need to do to heal my situation. Further, to see that others have often dealt with this same phenomenon, makes me feel comforted, more self-aware and compassionate towards myself and others, and less alone. Writing, like all forms of communications, connects us to one another. This is a wonderful, natural feeling to soak in: connectedness. We are not alone. We are One. And that feels really good.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

No Place

Hi friends. I’m home. And I’m soaking it in. And my dogs won’t leave my side. And my energy is filling in the space that I left when I went on my trip, like the perfect last puzzle piece fills in, and completes the puzzle. I love travel. I love the people whom I traveled to visit, but man oh man, I also love home. That’s what’s wonderful about taking breaks from home. New slippers look fancy and fabulous and interesting and are really fun to try on and to wear for a little bit, but there is nothing like your long worn, classic, never to be thrown out slippers which mold your own feet perfectly and help you to breathe more deeply and more comfortably and fully, than you ever breathe, when you slip your feet into them and nestle into their warm, soft, nurturing welcome. Home. Love. I’ve brought a few new things, and ideas, and inspirations, and personal expansions with me to Home. And Home says “Thank you! We have room for these wonderful new extensions of you!” And she hugs me, and she welcomes me back with the warmth of familiarity, and coziness, and peace. There is no place like home.

60 Best Family Quotes 2022 - Short Quotes About the Importance of Family

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Real Simple

Good morning, friends. If you didn’t get a chance to read Thursday’s blog post, “The Lifeboat” or even if you did, please go back and read my wonderful, and loyal reader Kelly’s response to that post. It is beautiful, poignant and real. And (the other) Kelly is truly an excellent writer.

This is a “Gorge Season” in my family. Every family has them. We have three birthdays in a matter of a couple of weeks, and usually Easter falls right in the mix, as well. Yesterday, for my daughter’s birthday, we started with an onslaught of doughnuts, went to a very generous Japanese steakhouse for dinner, and ended up with my daughter’s favorite chocolate volcano cake and ice cream right before bedtime. My husband mentioned more than once that he had the worst night’s sleep of his life, last night. And we are just out of the starting gate on this year’s early Gorge Season. It gets harder every year, as we age, but somehow we manage to go at our spring Gorge Season with great gusto.

Before my daughter’s best friend arrived to our home to join us for dinner last night, I was thumbing through “Real Simple” magazine (the March issue). I have subscribed to this magazine for years. It’s a good one. One of my favorite features is the Modern Manners advice column by Catherine Newman. If I had to summarize almost every answer that she gives to her readers about various issues that they are in a huff about, I would say it is something like this: “Take a chill pill. Is this really a hill you want to die on? Life is too short. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

In this issue, one person was upset with how her guests didn’t leave her borrowed RV the way she felt they “should have” done it. This is the finishing line of Catherine Newman’s answer to the reader: ” ‘Read my mind’ is an unrewarding approach to just about everything; if there are invisible strings attached, people tend to get tangled up in them.”

Another reader noticed some expensive antique silver decanter labels were missing after a few dinner parties she held for friends. She was concerned that they may have been stolen and she asked Newman if she should bring it up with her friends. Newman reminded her of the great possibility of finding the misplaced labels (this kind of thing has happened to me before, and then my high-and-mighty, outraged, suspicious mind immediately turns to shamed, chagrined mind. Has this happened to you? Not fun.) Newman’s finishing line to her answer to this reader: “Things are just things. Assume you lost them, and let them go.”

The final reader’s question was about her father constantly giving her unsolicited advice via articles that make her feel belittled and insulted. She wanted to know how to handle asking him to stop this behavior. A few of Newman’s final lines on this one were excellent: “You could also remind him that you’re on the same page. As my own son has said to me, ‘I promise I want me to be happy and successful too.’ ”

That one hit home with a little sting of “ouch”. Why do we parents have the tendency to forget that our adult children and our dearest friends and family, all likely share the same goals that we do? “I promise I want me to be happy and successful too.” And why do we all think we have the secret formula for everyone’s happiness and success??? In 2022, the self-improvement industry is projected to be worth around $13 billion dollars. If we all had the easy formula, there would be no 13 billion dollar industry to support. And further, everyone’s idea of happiness and success is different. My extremely extroverted and social friend was telling me that with my soon-to-be empty nest right around the corner, I probably should start to join a lot of clubs, find some social events, and fill up my calendar with lots of stuff in order to stave off the loss of my regular routine. I know that she meant well, and that she was trying to take care of me with love, so I didn’t have the heart to say, “That sounds like pure hell to me.” Her idea of happiness and fulfillment, is my idea of hell.

What I like best about the overall theme of “Real Simple” magazine, and that includes Catherine Newman’s Modern Manners column, is that it reminds me not to overcomplicate things. It reminds me that very few things in life are worth torrents of emotional angst and loads of hand wringing. It reminds me that life can be as simple or as complicated as I choose to make it. The older that I get, real simple feels real good. Maybe being happy and successful comes down to just experiencing the experience. The older that I get, the more plausible this seems. It really could be as simple as that – experience the experience, and then let it all go.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.