That time I came fairly close to dying and thought I was just being lazy

If you know me at all you know lazy really isn't in my lexicon. So, this weekend, when I "just didn't feel like getting out of bed", I gave myself a really hard time.

"Don't feel like getting out of bed?" I asked myself as I lay there with my head under the pillows. "Sounds like someone wants to use the weekend to her advantage and play hooky from being a housewife. Because, oh, you have it so hard, wah wah wah. Have to do dishes and laundry and go grocery shopping and to kid soccer games. It's SO HARD to be you. What is your problem?"

Still, I lay there. (Although, don't kid yourself, all of that gone done except the grocery shopping and that's only because my husband wouldn't let me go. You'll find out why in a sec.)

I was seriously peeved at myself. Unlike the flu, what I was / am suffering from currently comes with a side effect of "malaise" which means "feeling washed out / off." So, I wasn't feeling sick. I wasn't even feeling too tired to move. I was literally feeling washed out. I wondered at one point if I was actually suffering from depression (not having ever experienced true depression, I have no idea how it would affect me. I was grasping at straws. I just don't lay in bed for "no reason", and yet there I was. I was searching for an explanation. From my bed, where I refused to leave, no matter how much I yelled at myself.)

I got no school work or writing done. I could not bring myself to care enough to sit upright to do it. Also, sitting was painful.

The malaise, which I thought was a separate issue, was actually a symptom of this other thing (that I'm not telling you about. Just think about the grossest thing you can imagine, make it ten times grosser, and that's basically what I'm dealing with.)

Anyway, by mid-Sunday, I could no longer bend down. I had to ask my children to get the laundry I had folded and placed on the floor because I couldn't reach it. I still thought this was separate from me wanting to be a lazy ass this weekend, but not being able to bend over, on its own, is reason enough to seek care, so I went to the weekend walk-in.

Again, I won't go into detail, but yesterday ended up being the worst medical day of my life. And I've had twins via emergency c-section, so...

When the doctor finally looked at me, she could not believe I was up and about at all, couldn't believe I had driven myself there, and couldn't believe how advanced the situation had become. And I'm just there like, what? I mean, I know I feel kind of off, but really?

Yes, really.

I have to be pretty careful for the next  little while, even, until I see a surgeon about this. I have watch my temperature, and make sure I don't get super sick or die of an infection. Awesome. Totally have time for this.

When I got home, I felt slightly better, and mentioned going grocery shopping, and that's when my husband was like, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU.

I'm glad he's around, because that would have been stupid. I mean, so we need milk? It will be okay for a second.

And that's the main point of this whole thing, even though it's all been about me and a rare, odd thing that happened to me.

It's applicable to the general audience, particularly to the moms out there.

Sometimes, be it a medical emergency or not, you're going to need time to recharge. A nap, a coffee away, even a whole weekend.

It's not laziness. You aren't lazy. You're so very hardworking, and you come down really hard on yourself, and there's no need to.

It doesn't matter the reason, and it won't be a permanent personality change.

If you need a break, speak up. Let your loved ones know. They will understand because they know and love you.

And, honestly, if you find yourself doing something totally out of character, don't try to bully yourself out of it. There is most likely an underlying cause, be it pure exhaustion, some kind of illness you hadn't bargained for, or, you know, a mammoth killer infection trying to take your life while you're busy calling yourself a lazy sack of shit.

Make sure you look around every so often, take stock of who you are and what your life is like. And then, give yourself a break. In all senses of the phrase.



 

Find Out Who You Are

We are all broken. But we are all beautiful. And no one in the world is better than you are. Who you are, right now, in this very moment, as you read this, is beautiful. You belong here. And you deserve things. Good things. Even if you hate yourself right now, or hate what you've have done in the past, or hate what you will do in the future, or hate what you are doing right now, that does not mean you do not deserve the best of everything in this world, and the sooner you recognize that you are special, unique and giving this world a great gift just by existing, the sooner you'll be able to walk away from the Land Of Bad Decisions (tm).

Everyone has been there. The intensity of the situations are different, and our ability to withstand different intensities are different. But we are, in essence, very similar. We all fall, we all feel like fakes, we all struggle with hidden demons.

Your demons are just as important as that guy's over there. And you  are just as deserving as he is.

You can't keep on keeping on if you feel like you are undeserving of life, love and happiness. It's not you. It's a thing. It's a thing that's near you. It's a thing that's not you. You are not your failures. You are not even your actions. You are defined by you and you alone. You get to make up that definition. Make it good. You are strong. A warrior just like me, just like everyone. You will not let your loved ones down. They are more forgiving than you are. You are not the past. The past is not real. It is shadows. Shadows we must confront and conquer, but not our reality this day, this moment. You are not what happened to you. You don't owe anyone anything, especially at the expense of yourself. You are beautiful and you can let that show. Those who would disparage it are wrong. You can, day by day, moment by moment, take control of your life. And you deserve it.

Here are some things to do:

1) Accept blame for what is yours. But don't wallow in it. Don't allow your past to become you. Own up to your actions, understand your motivations for them, and from there, make changes so that you don't find yourself in that position again.

2) Allow yourself mistakes. You are going to mess up. A lot. This doesn't prove that you are a bad person. It just proves that you are a person. It doesn't prove that you can't change. It proves that change is a journey, not a destination.

3) Forgive yourself. I don't care how bad it is, if you can't forgive yourself, you stop yourself from moving forward. Forcing yourself to live in your old shoes as punishments for your misdeeds is poisoning. You have control over this moment, and the next one, and then the next, but only one moment at a time. And when you mess up, if you dwell on it, taking it as indicative of your nature, you are missing out on all the next moments you could control. You are worth forgiveness.

4) Forgive others. Some people have hurt you worse than others. Some people have tortured you, some knowingly, some unknowingly. Some people are still trying to hurt you now. Forgive them so that you can walk away from them. Because emotion binds us. And you don't want to be a part of that.

5) Walk away. Cut ties with toxic people. You do not owe them anything. You forgave them for you. Forgiveness doesn't mean willingness to subject yourself to more pain.

6) Be proud. Sometimes it will be hard to do this. So look outside yourself if you must. Just find one little thing each day that you did that you can be proud of. And when you find it, do not find a way to displace ownership of that thing. Do not assign yourself ulterior motives. Do not doubt that one tiny thing you chose to be proud of. Start very small. Move to bigger things from there. You must accept that you are worthy of praise.

7) Stop hiding. I know it's scary. Try showing yourself for just a few minutes at a time until you can build your resistance up.

8) Be kind to yourself. That thing in you that hates you? That likes to tell you you're a piece of shit. It's wrong. Experiment with telling it to shut the hell up. It will feel silly at first, but it separates your masochistic tendencies from who you are in a way nonverbal communication doesn't quite reach. Realize that sometimes you do things just so you can tell yourself 'I told you so.' Experiment with not  telling yourself 'I told you so' when you make a bad decision. Remember, the only one around to police you is yourself. Be a good cop.

9) Own it. You are who you are and you can do what you can do. You do not owe anyone anything. Practice being direct. It is scary. You don't want to displease people. But, in all reality, they don't care as much as you think they do. And even if they think they care at the time, you are only a minor player in their life movie. They'll adjust. They'll figure it out. You are only the main character in your own book. Read your book.

10) Do it. Branching off of number 9, be honest in everything you do. When everything mounts against you, and you want to hide, or lie, or couch the truth, or spare yourself what you feel certain will be other people's scorn and hate, try to buck that instead and simply state the truth. Don't allow yourself to be paralyzed on the cliff of anxiety where action is impossible and going back is equally impossible. Go forward. The sooner you move, the sooner it will all be over.

Be your authentic self. That person is awesome. Give her a chance. Hell, no one else did, right? Doesn't she deserve it? You be the first. Give you a chance.

You are worth everything.



 

More of Me Than Anyone Wants to See...

Internet, can we just have one thing? Can't we just do one trend without talking it to death, dissecting every side, defending, offending, attacking, contemplating, etc.? Must we intellectualize everything?

Well, truth be told, I don't mind discussing every tiny thing to death, so this is okay with me. Though if we were to have a trend where everyone just raised their collective shoulders in an idk shrug, I'd have thought this would have been it.

Selfies.

You take them, I take them, we all take them.

Why? Does it matter?

There are too many reasons to list, but I'll give a few: because we like them, because we like ourselves, because other people like us, because we want to show something to someone else or ourselves, because it's a form of communication.

Because we can.

Selfies, though, are actually more than that. I challenge all of you to go through your selfies from the past three years. Go collect them, put them in order, and flip through a slideshow.

Your selfies tell a story. And not only do they tell a story, they tell your story. And that shit is important.

Want to see mine? No, you don't, but I'll show you anyway. It's okay not to want to see a million selfies of someone else. It's not your story, after all. But the people taking them? They're telling a story over time, whether they know it or not. And each of those stories is beautiful.

Here's my story, from the last three years, as told by cellphone selfies.

We'd just moved to Gainesville, here. Notice my frustration, the opened graham crackers on the counter, along with the crumpled towel and wine bottle. The magnets on the fridge. My new life as a stay at home mom.

I had just bought new tights and boots. Why did I post it? To show them off. Also, because I feel I look awesome here.

This was to show an internet friend of mine how to do a twirly knot in her hair. This is not an easy picture to take of yourself, by yourself.

This is mid-potty training. I'd just cleaned up more pee than I thought was humanly possible and the emoticon D: just wasn't enough to express my feels.

Fed up with cleaning urine, I decided to go on a job interview. It didn't work out.

This was for a DITL (day in the life). I was lucky enough that day to start it with a shower. This was the only picture of me taken that day (on my phone, anyway).

I'm documenting my genetically curved eyebrow. One of my twins has this eyebrow (which is one of the main ways people can tell the girls apart), and as an adult, I know how to make it straight. But I wanted to show my friends it came from me.

I get my hair cut once a year in October. Here are 2010 and 2011 consecutively.

This was taken for one of those take a picture of yourself right now memes. Notice how I hold the phone way over my head? I didn't know how to take a selfie. Important to note also, up until last year I didn't like the shape of my face and thought it looked better from space, apparently. Sorry about the boobs.

 Showing off my wine and apron. Feeling like a right housewife, just a year and a few months after that first photo.





 Tried to dye my hair platinum and wear makeup. Welp, that was a mistake, eh?

 I was feeling like a moody poet that day. A mood poet with large, outstretched arms attached to a camera. What?

 Halloween last year. My kids thought I was a witch, but I was a goth kid from 1996.

We were moving and I found my fedora buried in my closet as I packed. I mean, I really didn't have a choice, here. What else could you do after finding an old fedora?

Documenting a sick day, showing how close my kids were sticking to me that day.

 I have two kids.

Showing off new sunglasses. This is the picture where I realized taking pics of myself from an angle so far above my head my arm could have been a crane was ridiculous. See how selfies helped me shape my self image?

I'm standing with Wendy. From Florida. Because selfies allow me to do that.

 On vacation. I took this photo to show my husband my abs. Then I shared it because...abs.

 Look at how artsy I am! But seriously, it's not meant to be art. It's meant to show that I felt like attempting to be artsy. This is an important distinction in the selfie-era. Many critics think the pictures are something they're not.

Halloween this year. I'm looking happier as the years go by, I think.

 Showing myself hiding from the kids for a few minutes after the gym. Because it's okay not to go get them immediately. And I wanted to tell people that.

 I had just gotten catcalled three times while going to pick up the girls from school. So I documented it. Notice the lower camera angle? This time, though, I'm not sorry for the boobs.

 Today. In defense of selfies and the stories they tell.

 

Woman Hands Out Fat Shaming Notes to Kids so She's not Seen as the 'Mean Lady' -- Oh.

Perhaps by now you've seen this?

Now, you might this this is some spoof out to rile the social justice warriors. I admit, I wasn't sure at first. But no. This is a real note, courtesy of Cheryl from Fargo, North Dakota. In fact, here she is on y94 defending her decision.

The DJ asks her why she doesn't just give out healthy alternatives, and her reply is that she doesn't want to be the mean lady. So she'll give all the kids candy, and the ones she deems overweight will also be getting this incredibly well worded, and caring, note.

There are so many things wrong with this I hardly know where to start.

Let's first define "concern trolling" okay? Since apparently a lot of people don't seem to understand the concept.

Concern Trolling: "A person who posts on a blog thread, in the guise of "concern," to disrupt dialogue or undermine morale by pointing out that posters and/or the site may be getting themselves in trouble, usually with an authority or power. They point out problems that don't really exist. The intent is to derail, stifle, control, the dialogue. It is viewed as insincere and condescending." --Urban Dictionary

Now, this is a case of in real life concern trolling. The woman holds herself up to be helping the community by inserting a note which she finds to be "well-meaning" into those people's hands that she finds unhealthy. She has put herself into a dialogue that didn't exist, is controlling it, and wants to be seen as the good guy.

Here's why she can't do that:

1) It's none of her business. Halloween is an opt-in holiday. Think Halloween candy makes kids fatter and you can't stand it? Opt out. Leave your porch light off. It's as simple as that. Or as the DJ suggested, give out something you consider healthy. The kids won't care. They're there for the costumes and festivities. If they ever even do care about what kind of candy they got, it's long after the fact, and they won't even remember you. Repeat this to yourself: you are not that big a deal.

2) Parents have eyes. They can see their own children, they know what their children weigh moreso than even you do, and they have deemed it appropriate to allow their kids to partake in the collection of candy this year. They don't need you to tell them what they can see. They don't need you to tell them what they should do.

3) Collection of candy. That's as far as you see. For all you know that family is donating their stash this year. Or not. Not your business.

4) I happen to be a fairly thin, muscular woman--a woman some people would say is in great shape. I've  eaten four bags of Halloween candy in the past two weeks. Meanwhile, I know people struggling with their weight who have eaten nothing but wholesome, doctor-approved diets in that time. Point being, thin people do not represent healthy people necessarily. Those thin kids you're referencing in your note could have far worse diets and exercise than the ones you consider to be overweight.

5) Kids of trick-or-treating age are just coming into the stage where they learn about people like you, who will judge them for what they look like as opposed to for who they are. They've not yet built the walls of self-confidence around themselves, and reading a note like this could have a very definite and a very negative impact on them. They could accidentally allow you to define them. They could lose their sense of self and start judging who they are by what you think of them. They could then pattern this for years, becaoming more and more unhappy with themselves, always feeling inadequate, no matter how much they accomplish. These kids, they don't know you don't matter. So you have to act like you do. Because you might to them. And if that's the case, wouldn't you rather be the person who shored someone up when they were feeling insecure rather than pushed them down into the depths of self-doubt and worry?

In summation, here's a PSA. Happy Halloween, everybody! Remember this year to not be a total douchecanoe when handing out candy to the joyous children happy to be out and about and proud of their costumes.


 

How to Love Me - Guest Post

Melanie Greeke took time out of her busy schedule of wrestling her three lovely children to write an inspiring piece on body image that I'd like to share here.

...

As women, we are told how to look, what we have to do to achieve this look, and how inadequate we are if we fall short. This irritates the absolute shit out of me.

Women in a size small have a hard time finding clothes and feel fat in a swimsuit. Why? Because the media has given us unreal expectations of what a female body should look like. Size small? Not small enough. Super-model size thin? Too thin! Eat something, you skinny bitch. Size 10? "You'd feel so much better if you were a size 8." Size 20? "You have such a pretty face, I don't understand why you don't lose the weight!"

Because fuck you, that's why.

I had gastric bypass in August 2010 in an attempt to prolong my life because my weight and family history were leading me down a road I didn't want to travel, with two little girls who needed their mom to be healthy.

I didn't have gastric bypass to be skinny; I didn't do it to look sexy. I did it to improve my health for my children. And it worked.

But, even after gastric bypass and losing weight, I still feel the need to hide my thinner body. Oh no, the extra skin on my arms is unappealing to some! Oh no, stretch marks!

Melanie, stop it. Your insecurities are ridiculous. Let it go. You are absolutely the only one who cares enough to notice how much your "bingo wings" jiggle when you gesture your hands...and even if people do notice, who cares?  You know that shit is jiggling, too. Nothing to be ashamed of here.

So, I'm paving a new way for myself, and hopefully my daughters. We are going to love ourselves unconditionally. We will not engage in body talk or body hate. If we are feeling like there is room for improvement, we will improve, but no more standing in front of a mirror crying because skinny jeans make my thick Portuguese thighs look like sausages! No more will I allow the media to try to bamboozle me into thinking I'm anything less than absolutely spectacular. I'm going to love me for me. If I feel I need to change, I'm going to do it by myself and for myself. No man, woman, or TV personality will tell me what I need to look like.



 

I Think I'm Pretty

You know that Dove Campaign that everyone loved for a hot second before everyone hated it?

This one, where the artist sketches a portrait of a woman based on her own description of herself, and then sketches another portrait based on how someone else describes her? And the self-portraits are inevitably harsher than the others? The point being that, hey! You're more beautiful than you think!


It's a great little promo...with a lot of problems.

Mainly, as Anne Theriault at The Belle Jar points out, Dove Does Not Give a Shit About Whether or Not You Feel Beautiful. In this corporate age, you always have to look one rung up. And that rung, above Dove? Is Unilever.

Pollychromatic points out this bit, at the end of the video: “'It impacts the choices in the friends that we make, the jobs we apply for, how we treat our children. It impacts everything. It couldn’t be more critical to your happiness.'”

Your beauty. Remember, that’s what this Dove ad campaign is talking about here. Your beauty."

Writer Elizabeth Hawksworth says she doesn't want to be beautiful. She wants women to be brave instead.

Then Cassandra over at Smibbo said everything I wanted to say. That we're missing the point. And she's right, imo.

And before you read about my flailings and failings, if you want real positivity in imagery and real acceptance in life, head over here. ...

Your self-image of your beauty, according to Dove, impacts your whole life. Therefore, we should all learn to love ourselves, and we can start by knowing that other people find us pretty, even if we don't think we're pretty ourselves.

When the video went around my feed, I shared it because I saw how much better it was making women feel about themselves, and that's a good thing.

But as my friend, Leona, said: "'There is no room in Doveland for women who know they’re hot.' (Source Feministing) Welp. I'm out then."

Me, too.

Because what Dove has done by attempting to tell all women they are prettier than they think they are is reinforcing the idea that our self-image is wrong. No matter what we do, we're wrong about ourselves. Again, people telling us what to think, for good or for bad. Let me go ahead and hit this on the head instead of beating around the bush.

I think I'm pretty.

Here's the thing, though, and I don't know what to make of it myself. If this is coming across as disjointed and weird, it's because of how unbearably uncomfortable I am even writing it. It goes against...things. It makes my chest tighten up. You aren't supposed to say it.

My friend just said it best: "You're dancing around a bit because you have negative feelings about your admissions because society has trained us all to avoid the topic of our own beauty. Believe me I know how 

you feel. It's awkward at best, feels dangerous at worst."

And that's exactly it. So, bear with me.

I never wear make up, I hardly ever match, I make weird faces. I just think I'm pretty anyway. In all of these pictures, for instance, I think I'm pretty.

I'm not "allowed" to think I'm pretty. I mean, sure, okay. I'm allowed to think that. And you, or whoever else, are then allowed to think I'm a pompous, self-important, full-of-herself asshat. In real life, should I ever receive compliments on my looks, I immediately say, "Lucky genes." I don't want to own it. I don't want people to think I think I'm better than them or that I think I have any control over what I look like. I make as small a deal of it as possible. Because wahhh, being pretty is so hard and people hate pretty people. Right? You know people are going to read those last few lines and think that's what I'm saying.

Honestly, I didn't even want to type this out because I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Point being, no matter how you think you look, it's ingrained in you to believe what other people think is more important. And it's burdensome either way.

This is the problem. This surety that other people's points of view are more important than our own.

I was having a discussion about this with a friend of mine about this. "I'd write about it," she said, "but I'm too unique-looking." At the same time, I was typing, "I'd write about it, but I'm too cookie-cutter."

In both cases, we assumed our feelings were invalid. Because of who we are.

And that's kind of what Dove is saying. What you think is invalid. Look at how wrong your image is when placed against other people's thoughts about you. Maybe you should think like them.

Meaning the solution they are providing is a bandaid. It's a way to work within the set parameters women have been given as boundaries for how they're allowed to feel about how they look.

What we really need to do is forward that message, push it further. Break down the conventions of beauty. Understand that because someone's genes gave them a look that's more conducive to praise in our modern society, it still means nothing. Understand that the only way to put everyone on equal footing is to thoroughly reject that image of beauty. Understand that how we feel about ourselves is valid and is a result of several societal factors working for and against us. Understand how we are a piece of this puzzle, not to better fit in (as some ads would have you do, like Ideal Image Laser Hair Removal, for instance), and not to see how other people do think we fit and therefore begin to believe we should think that too (like this Dove commercial), but to make a new puzzle. To make it out of Playdoh. So that it can move and shift and grow as we do, as individuals.

In the end, it comes down to caring about what people think. And on that note, I'm bracing myself for the barrage of comments telling me that 1) I'm not pretty. 2) I'm an asshole for even trying to talk about it. Because that's what I've been raised to believe happens. I've been raised to believe I do not have the right to talk about this. Because I think I'm pretty.

But I tried anyway. Because I'm confident.

And that's where we need to be. Confident. Have belief in yourself, regardless of all else.

 

A New Year of Fail Won't Hold Me Back

It is January the fourth.

I set out a bunch of resolutions and have not yet followed one of them.

I have, however,

- eaten all the Christmas goodies
- eaten a large bag of Cheetohs
- stayed up too late reading trashy Tumblr blogs
- freaked out about my writing projects
- yelled at my kids
- loved my kids
- played with my kids
- freaked out that grad school starts on Monday. Starts. On. Monday.
- gotten dressed around 1 p.m. each day
- taken at least one shower
- spent too much money
- not made enough money
- felt like I've been cleaning my house all day everyday
- not cleaned my house nearly enough
- made several business calls to people who were not there because they take a holiday
- told the bank teller that I wanted to order checks then left before actually ordering the checks because I've lost my mind.
- made peppermint cotton candy from a candy cane.
- freaked out about how little I've been able to accomplish thus far in the year
- freaked out some more

Not a good start. So I'm calling a redo.

Starts on Monday (because that's how I roll.) 2013 will start on January 7th. Bam. Done.

Now I've got to go. I've got more freaking out to do.




 

Cookies and Communication

This morning, my girls were discussing the cookie-making we're going to do this afternoon. Dulce wants to make chocolate chip cookies. Natalina wants to make sprinkled cookies.

We're making peanut butter cookies...because I'm the mom and I don't care what you want, particularly when you want different things, and you are looking forward to yelling about that.

During the course of their lengthy discussion on the merits and faults of all kinds of cookies that we are not making, Dulce had a wonderful idea.

"I know!" she said. "We can put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the peanut butter cookies!"

Indeed we can. Problem solved. Or is it?

I took Dulce to mean that we could put chocolate chips on the cookies she made, and put sprinkles on the cookies Lilly made. Mine, of course, would have sugar on them...mostly because I'm boring.

"Great idea, Dulce!" I replied. "We can do that."

Cue a shriek from Natalina.

There were two problems with this solution as far as she was concerned. The first was that Dulce had thought of it instead of her.

This is not just a childhood problem. How often are we held back in life because someone else came up with a glorious idea we wished we had had? How often, when we hear that person praised for their insight do we bristle, shutting ourselves off from cooperating in something we would have otherwise stood behind? Remember, when someone else does well, it does not mean that we are doing badly.

I have to remind my kids of this all the time. One of us will say to one of them, "Oh, you're so clever!" Or "Oh, you're so funny!"

And my other child, having no filter or subtlety, will say this: "You don't think I'm funny / clever!"

Which obviously isn't true. A good reflection on someone else is not a bad reflection on you.

Sometimes, they'll take it even further.

"You don't love me."

It seems overly dramatic, but it captures a true feeling that we all have, an easy step from the first notion. So that if we first think, "Someone did well, that means I did poorly." We then go to, "I'm not worthy of being praised because I've done poorly." Which can easily turn into, "I'm not worthy of love."

Again, huge over-simplification, but this is real, in subtler form. 

Of course, I always correct my child, saying that she is also funny and clever and of course I love her. The child who received the praise at that particular moment had done something specific that I was praising. What she did. Not what she is.

The second reason Natalina was upset about these cookies was that she didn't want to ruin her sprinkle peanut butter cookies by putting chocolate chips on them.

A misunderstanding.

A simple misunderstanding that elevated into madness because my four year old is too young to take a second to think about what has actually been said versus what she perceived.

This also happens in the adult world quite frequently. My husband laughs at me, saying I have the worst hearing in the world (I, on the other hand, would argue that he's a mumbler), and I'll often mishear things he's said, and repeat ridiculous notions back to him.

Example:

"It's a nice, clear night out tonight."

"Why would a deer need light out at night?"

He'll laugh and say, "Yes, that's exactly what I said. Take the thing that would make the least amount of sense, and go ahead and try to make it work."

Hah.

That's a benign and ridiculous example of something that's much more pervasive in real life. Mainly, that what you hear is most likely not what the other person said.

And if you hear something completely obnoxious, better to question it first, to be sure you are gleaning the right meaning from the speaker, instead of immediately going on the attack. They could be saying something you want to hear, and you've simply missed it through the haze of your own distractions.

Clarify before getting angry. Otherwise, we're all just toddlers throwing tantrums about chocolate chips, when we could have had our sprinkles without the tears.

Communication is so important. We think that because we learned to talk we automatically communicate effectively, but that's not necessarily the case.

I'll try to teach myself what I'm teaching my kids. Be patient, really listen, compromise, use words, speak, be heard, understand, have faith in yourself, take joy in others' accomplishments.

They are all tied together, no matter how much we'd like to tackle them separately.












 

Just Keep Swimming

I passed the GRE yesterday. I studied for two days over the weekend. I can't believe I passed.

But I did.

So now I get to go to grad school.

Wait, wait. There's a moral to this story.

So many times, as parents, we feel our entire selves being sucked away by life, adulthood, our responsibilities, the cleaning...dare I say it, the children.

Who are we? What do we stand for? Where do we want to be? We only have so much time on this planet. What are we going to do with it?

And when the answers to those questions don't come, and instead we are faced with five loads of laundry and two squalling children, the weight of it can seem too much.

All of our carefully laid plans fall to the wayside. We get pregnant again, or someone gets laid off, we lose all our money, we never had any money, whatever. It doesn't matter what happens to us, we tend to internalize it and we think, 'this happened because I'm not working hard enough, I didn't plan well enough, I don't think things through, I'm a dick.'

This is such dangerous thinking, and it's almost inevitable. How many times have I felt this myself? I yell at the kids, or I'm too tired to clean the sink, or I'm not making any money even though I'm working my tail off. It's all because I suck, right?

Right.

Only not at all.

Be strong. You don't suck. You are amazing. You are doing things that only you can do. Life is not a day. Life is not two months. If you are suffering, if you can't get out of bed, if you feel you've failed yourself and your family, just hang on. Just another day, another week. Hell, just hang on another year. As long as it takes. And don't do it alone. If you are depressed, if you are sick, if you are just frustrated about everything, anything, reach out. We are here, we are all here. Ready and willing to help, to tell you about how wonderful you really are, and how much you will actually accomplish.

Take a chance. When you can, take a break. Look around yourself. You created this. Sure, it's a mess, and it smells like bad milk (okay, that's just me. My kid spilled her milk on the carpet and never told me. I'm still trying to find the damn spot.), but it's yours.

And it will get better.

You have to keep going. When you don't make it as a huge blogger, when you don't make it as a huge novelist, when you don't make it as a huge producer, when you don't make it as world's best parent ever (fill in your own blanks there). You just have to keep going.

Start now, start today. You don't have to *do* anything. You can just look at your surroundings and understand that they exist because of you. And you've done a really good job getting everyone this far.

As parents, the weight of the world is on our shoulders. There's a lot of pressure. You can do it. Just one more hour, minute, second. Every moment that ticks by is another moment you've won.

You've got to believe in yourself. You've made extraordinary children. And there's so much life left.


** Dedicated to several who are having a very hard time right now. I love you.



 

Guest Post - On Stoking Passion

I can honestly say that to get what you want in life, you don’t need money. And I know that for a fact…

Hi, I’m Shaunna from over at Mist and Lilies. When I was asked to write about passion, the passions one has in life—things they want to accomplish someday, remaining true to them—I was honored that someone actually NOTICED that I have followed my heart and accomplished much because of that.

If you do not follow my blog, Captivus Living, or have not heard of me (which I would not be surprised. I keep a low profile in the blogosphere, lol), let me explain some things that I do:

-I’m a history major

-Photographer

-Cinematographer

-Graphic designer

-Blog template (maker?) lol

-Author

-Composer

-Pianist

-Quilt maker lol

-Traveler

-Maintenance Woman

-Hairstylist

-Dog Groomer

-Dog trainer

-Mac computer nerd

-Multi-tasking mother

-Spontaneous friend

-Military wife

-SAHM to our little girl

First tip for following your passions and making them happen: Never get bored. There is always something to do. I never let myself get in that mind-dumbing state. I either read or I pick up a new trade. 

I was bored one time so I learned how to cut hair (Google is awesome). 

I was bored so I wrote a sucky book. 

I was bored, so I taught myself how to quilt and gave the horrible first sample to my papa.

You’ll be amazed at what you can do if you give it a random try.

As a family we move A LOT around the world, which gives me even more opportunities and inspiration, but how did I get here?  I loved myself…

I love myself. I'm confident, talented, accomplished, correctable, spontaneous, and happily contented. It is NOT A BAD THING to love yourself this much. This problem now a days is that people DON'T love themselves. Oh, they think they are confident, but most are covering up their insecurity. How do you tell the difference between the two? Count your number of friends. Depressed people cannot last long with happy people. Fake people are never friends for very long; eventually their true colors come through. Therefore, the smaller the number the more chance that you ARE real, and love yourself. First comes insecurity. Next comes pride, which is followed by a humbled fall. Next comes healing. Lastly comes the accepting of yourself. When you love yourself, you become less sensitive, you let go of yourself, you give more because you are already full.

Another tip? Expect the hard times so that you will not be surprised emotionally, spiritually or physically when they do hit. As young as the age of fourteen, I went down to the rural jungles of Mexico to help in a village with my family. By nineteen I had gone to Thailand after the tsunami to help, to teach, to encourage. I have been traveling the world before I could remember. I have done photoshoots for German senators in Heidelberg, Germany; photographed symphonies in amazing historical buildings, and shot images all over Europe and Asia. I was forced to stay in piano class through my teens. That ended up becoming an outlet to express myself when I felt down. I have written and composed twelve songs. I have seen death, witnessed the sorrows of those poor and in the streets. I have been abused, challenged, betrayed, and belittled; however, I never let that control where I was going or how much I loved myself.

I cannot go into my whole life’s story, but I can share what I have learned that has produced my ultimate current happiness and contentment in life. If one were to look at me they would think that I was raised beautifully, with no problems. I would seem untouched by the hardness that many experience from life. I have money, I have a wonderful marriage to an amazing man, I have a beautiful daughter, I have a strong relationship with my family, I do everything that I love doing, on my own time. 

The final four tips I will give are basic and simple and then I will end my overlong post….

(1) Selflessness. That is the first key to my current bliss. I had to let go from what I wanted. I had to let go of my dreams. I had to live as if each day was my last…..in order to have all my dreams delivered to me. Moreover, I also had to learn to let things go and be humbled by the fact that not every dream you THINK you want is what you SHOULD get. For example, I dreamed of a beautiful wedding, with family there who supported me and loved me. Instead I got dressed by myself in a small bathroom, adorned my own wedding gown, alone because my family did not approve of the man I loved. I walked down a tiny church aisle towards the most perfect man for me, but yet I did not have my dream wedding, BUT I had my dream man. Which dream was more important? Dream wedding or dream man? Life made me have to give up one of those dreams. Most would be bitter, angry and depressed, but which is more important: one day with white whimsicalness or a lifetime with the right man? Both, but rarely will you find someone that has both of those dreams completed. Therefore, like I said, I gave up one of those dreams and moved onward. 

If you want to accomplish your dreams and achieve the things your heart desires, (2) take it slow and be patient. It took me over ten years of pain and suffering to get my dreams moving. I had to wait that long, but during those years I stayed true to who I am. I did not let those things bring me down. I let go of what I wanted and just focused on each day. Eventually the opportunities came flowing in, but they were hard to recognize! Some seemed not exactly what I had in mind; others looked so small that I thought it might not be worth it. Small things grow—whether physically or mentally—they all grow. 

I also (3) accepted criticism because it made me wiser. Do not be afraid or angered when someone corrects you. It may be because they want to belittle you so they look better and bigger. If that is the case, you can thank them for making you even smarter and wiser. They will be taken aback by that kind of response. Maybe next time they won’t correct, so that they can remain the smart one. Regardless, I love correction. I take it—whether wrong or right for my unique self—and I use it. I do not turn that correction into drama. 

(4) I pick my battles wisely. Most things are not worth our time. Many conversations are a waste of precious minutes in your day and life; and that was the next thing I had to instill in my mind—the fact that I (5) always have time. So many people claim to be so busy. I have to shop, clean, take the kids to practice, cook, do laundry, run here, run there, etc. etc. I thought all that too, but sometimes it is just nice to stay busy. It is a comfort because when you get alone with yourself sometimes you get uncomfortable. You don’t know what to do, where to start, how to begin, so you do the mundane and the obvious, and continue on with your “busy” day. That is a sign that you’re losing yourself and forgetting who YOU are. Your identity becomes your family instead of what it should be, you, beautiful you. I DEMAND my time. Demand yours. I take time out of every single day for myself. Whether is pampering myself with the proper skin care and physical fitness, or taking a walk to practice photography at different times of the day—these times are important! They are a way of rejuvenating yourself to keep you going. Those are moments of invisible inspiration that strengthens you without you realizing it.

If you want to hear more of my rambles of “inspiration” I learn along the way, PLEASE come stop by over in my part of the world. I would LOVE to meet you!

Beauty is in the Eye of the Self

Two years ago, I had a slight moment of fame. I was driving to work (yeah, I used to work!) and on my 45-minute commute, I heard the morning DJ ask a question.

"If you could either be America's Next Top Model or a Nobel Prize winner, which would you pick?"

I was astounded at how many women called to say they'd rather be a model.  Really? Then I turned it in on myself, musing as I waited at one of the many red lights, listening to a bad local commercial since the station had gone to break.

Actually, I had wished many many times to be America's Next Top Model. In the "before time, in the long long ago," by which I mean before the girls came along, I had gone so far as to look up sign-up information. I really wanted to do it.

Then I saw that at 5'9" I was supposed to weigh 110-115 pounds. I shrugged my shoulders and ate a piece of cheese, to be honest. Screw that. I couldn't weigh 115 pounds if I never ate again. My bones weigh more than 115 pounds.

Anyway, thinking about this on my drive, I realized that all my life, I'd never once wished to win the Nobel Prize. So, really, I was no different from the women calling in. Except for one thing. The reason I'd never wanted to win the Prize is that it had never crossed my mind as a possibility.

So I called in and said that I'd rather win the Prize, and I thanked the host for posing the question because before the two were juxtaposed I had never realized how silly my goals could be, how low I was reaching.

Last week, I cam across this article about photoshopping and magazine covers.

Now, I've known forever, as most people do, that the images seen on magazines aren't real. That hasn't stopped me from wanting to look like those images without the aid of photoshop. Especially in my younger days. If I could eat healthily, work out, and wear the right clothing, surely I would soon look like that air-brushed image...naturally. I don't know why my brain worked like that, but it did. This coming from a woman who can't even put on makeup without looking like a clown. Who doesn't know how to match clothes to shoes. Yeah, right. Dream on, self.

And yet, that's the problem. These dreams aren't healthy. They aren't possible. And the images are so much more pervasive than we allow ourselves to realize. Yes, you assume that the high-fashion magazines smooth blemishes and erase a line here and there, but magazines like Shape reducing the size of women by a third? Check out the pic of Kelly Clarkson in there. Shape completely ruined her for their cover. Then they defended it, saying Kelly's inner beauty is what they showcased and you can't photoshop that. Well, no, you can't photoshop radiance, but by completely changing her shape, magically erasing 50 pounds, you are not touting a message of self-acceptance and inner beauty, no matter how you try to spin it. It's really sad.

Most of the time, image is about the other people. That's backwards. Image needs to be about the self.

About six months ago, I took a before / after shot on a rare occasion when my husband and I were going out. It's all about manipulation, even without photoshop.

Before:

The pulled back hair is my normal, resting state. I hardly wear it down due to the kids. Notice the arm, the waist area, the chest in proportion to it. Just a normal person taking a normal picture.

Now, let's add in some "MySpace-esque" angles and lighting. This photo was taken about 20 minutes later.

Bright light in the forground giving a tinted look to the picture? Check.
Head tilt and half-smirk? Check.
Knee bent in the front to give myself some semblance of a backside? Check.
Sucking it in? You betcha.

Turned slightly away from the camera so that it sees less of my body to trick the eye? Absolutely.
So what I actually look like is not what I want you to think I look like. Why is that? Why aren't I enough as is? Why aren't any of us? It's so important for us to love ourselves. Not just for the self-confidence and energy we need to make it through the day, but also so that we can move on with our lives. So we don't find ourselves glued to the mirror, or thinking about our looks / weight / skin / whatever. Those things, those thoughts, inhibit the real work we are here to do.

And if you ever need a refresher...look at your kids. Look at the love, respect and admiration in their eyes. To them, you are a beauty queen and a genius and the entire universe all rolled into one. Those are some big shoes. They don't belong stomping all over your self-esteem.

Beauty redefined. They're right.

Using Babies for Adult Messages: Don't Do It, Part I

Something crossed my tumblr yesterday that really bothered me. It took me a while to place what my problem was, since I agreed with the overall message, assumedly being that women shouldn't concentrate so hard on being thin. Whoever posted it wanted women to know that stick-thin is not beautiful. More precisely, that extreme skinniness is not as sexy as having a little extra weight.

And there's nothing wrong with that message. Especially if it will help young women with their self-image and self-worth. Fighting the exagerrated and impossibly unattainable societal view of sexy is something I support, moreso than ever since I have three-year-old daughters, who soon are going to have to be strong enough to love themselves inside and out, regardless of what they see in the pages of magazines.

But this public service announcement really rubbed me the wrong way, and here's why.

It used babies.

There was one adorable roly-poly little guy, and one adorable skinny minny. An arrow pointed at the bigger one. "This," it said, "is sexier than this." The phrasing ended at another arrow that was pointing at the thinner baby. I have the pic saved on my hard drive, but I don't know where it came from, so I'm uncomfortable reposting it.

First of all, I'm just uncomfortable with people calling babies sexy. I don't think the poster or the rebloggers are perverts or anything, but sexy is simply a term that shouldn't be applied to infants. On the one hand, I can see their point, trying to enhance the message changing the situation around it, by placing it squarely in the lap of innocence. On the other hand, just no. The inappropriateness of the message vs. the photo outweighs the message itself and all its purported nuances.

Secondly, if the bloggers think that babies are uneffected by the weight/beauty debate, they're mistaken. How many posts do we see where parents are worried about their children's weight. Either for legitimate health reasons, or, more unfortunately, because other people are telling them that their baby is too fat, too thin, too something. They are babies. There is no sexier than, there is no too fat, there is no too thin. Each baby is different, grows differently, stores nutrients differently and needs different fat levels to be healthy and happy. The children pictured were so young that they were only eating breastmilk or formula at the time the picture was taken. It's not like they were making bad life choices. By bringing attention to the way their bodies process food, the bloggers are undoing their entire intent. They're essentially saying, "hey, this little guy has a slower metabolism than this girl. He's chubbier and she's skinnier through no fault of their own and through no fault of their parents. Let's stare and pick it apart anyway!" And isn't the point not to judge people about their looks? Good job.

I personally have an issue with the picture because it straight up told me my girls weren't pretty because they were skinny. Well, actually, I don't have an issue with it because it didn't say pretty, it said sexy, and just ew. But assuming the deeper message meant pretty, then my kids got the short shift.

We took them home at 3.5 pounds. It took them two months to fit into newborn clothes. They were then 6 or 7 pounds. At two months. It was all we could do to get them to eat. Every ounce was a battle, every one gained, a victory. Pointing at a skinny baby and implying there's something superficially wrong with her makes light of some very real and serious issues that these parents may be facing. And if the babies are not struggling to avoid "failure to thrive" and they're just naturally thin, well, there is still nothing wrong with that.

The babies are at least two months old here. Those are newborn clothes.

These kids have their whole lives to be judged by strangers. Let's not start it at three months or six months by splattering their image across social networking sites and labelling them sexy or not sexy.

Babies and social experiments just don't mix well together. Don't do it. Think of the kids.

___
If you like this blog, please vote on Babble.com. Tales of an Unlikely Mother is number 17, just scroll down and click on the thumbs up! Thank you so, so much.