I recently read a heartfelt blog post written by a wonderful mother I have been friends with for decades. This woman is truly an exceptional parent and her children reflect her firm-but-loving parenting and her beautiful spirit.
In her post she spoke movingly of milestones her children were meeting, of years passing too swiftly, and of the paralyzing fear that grips every parent as their children approach the brink of adulthood...am I doing ENOUGH?
She asked some hard questions but the one that stood out to me was this one:
"Have I taught them everything they need to know?"
I completely understand her.
I have asked the same rhetorical questions of myself.
Here is the answer that has come echoing gently back to me...
No parent can teach their child EVERYTHING they need to know.
No parent can prepare their child for EVERY circumstance they will face.
No parent can scan the horizon of their child's future with enough foresight to predict how that future will unfold.
You may prepare your child for one thing and they may choose something completely different.
You may work to develop skills in a child that they never utilize once they strike out on their own.
You may lovingly tend a path, imagining your child treading it, only to find yourself shading your eyes to catch a glimpse of them as they walk along another chosen way.
Some parts of our futures are chosen by us. Other parts are thrust upon us by circumstances we do not control.
How do we prepare...give specific direction...for things we can never foresee?
Answer: We can't.
Then what can we parents do?
Throwing up our hands in despair is not an option.
Slumping our shoulders in resignation is not an acceptable reaction.
Turning our heads and ignoring difficult truths is not the answer.
Glossing over character flaws or excusing bad behavior is not acceptable.
Surrendering to our own sense if inadequacy will not serve our children best.
Again I ask: "What do we parents DO?"
We work diligently to instill PRINCIPLES in our children.
We develop character...and we try not to confuse PERSONALITY with character. (There are lots of charming swindlers with great personality and faulty characters.)
We do our best to model for our children positive ways to meet life's challenges...knowing all the while that we can never anticipate the individual challenges they will face.
When I was a girl my parents never even considered that I would have a disabled child. It was never a thought. I had absolutely no exposure to the joys or struggles of raising a child with special needs.
And when Julia was born and diagnosed with Cri du Chat Syndrome my greatest fear did not center around her disabilities. Instead it was MY lack that kept me awake at night. My lack of skill. My lack of education about special needs. My overwhelming fear of not being ENOUGH for her.
I was not prepared to parent a handicapped child.
Did my parents fail me because I was inadequate?
They never taught me about Sensory Integration Dysfunction or developmental disabilities.
I was not prepared to be changing diapers on a nine year old or to navigate the tricky labyrinth of an IEP meeting.
They never prepared me for her feeding difficulties and fragile health.
I wasn't ready for the sudden, devouring onslaught of appointments, therapists, doctors, questions, and information.
I didn't know how to answer the covert stares of complete strangers or the open curiosity of children who want to know what is "wrong" with her.
My lack of preparation for THIS PARTICULAR CIRCUMSTANCE was appalling.
No. There is no way they could prepare me for Julia.
However, my parents DID give me tools I needed to navigate the frightening new journey I had embarked on.
They taught me compassion. Patience. Persistence. Courage.
They showed me by example how to keep my head up and my shoulders squared.
They taught me that a cheerful countenance is a natural antidepressant.
They helped me to believe that there was nothing I could not learn if I only applied myself, and nothing I could not do if only I would persist.
They showed me that a persons worth is intrinsic...granted to them because they ARE...not based upon their performance, or what they can DO.
I was taught to value life.
To accept differences.
To see beauty in everyone.
In short, while they could not anticipate the challenges I would face in my future they focused on giving me the tools I would need to face whatever came successfully.
So...no. We can never prepare our children for their specific situations. Their circumstances will depend upon the choices they make...and upon what is thrust on them by life.
But we CAN give them the tools they need to make wise choices.
We can can teach them by precept and example to navigate their circumstances cheerfully...persistently...courageously.
We can show them that regardless of what comes to them...joy or sorrow... patience, kindness, education, love, and faith will help them to find the answers they need.
In this way we do prepare our children to be successful adults who live and love with passion and purpose.
My precious friend is doing this with her children.
She is modeling daily how to rise above pettiness, challenge, offense, and difficult circumstances.
She is teaching them to win humbly and lose graciously.
She is teaching them persistence, patience, kindness, and courage.
She is teaching them gracious manners and the intrinsic worth of a person regardless of that person's abilities or lack thereof.
She is showing them the value of loyalty, truth, and patience.
She has taught them to be honest about how they feel and to be kind about how they express it.
She is teaching them the importance of education and the value of diligent application to their studies.
She has shown them how to be resilient, innovative, creative, and focused.
She has taught them the importance of seeing the long-term...of not sacrificing what they want MOST for what they want NOW.
Yes, dear friend.
You have taught them what they need to know, and whatever comes to your children they will have within themselves the tools they need to handle it with dignity, grace and courage.
Keep making memories and having fun..this, along with your many lessons, is what they will take into their futures.
And those futures are bright!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Theme 2012 - Growth
As every new year progresses there seems to be an underlying theme that slowly emerges.
What proved to be the theme for 2011 did not take long to manifest itself as we joyfully struggled through weddings for not one, but two of our five daughters.
Last years theme was survival, and at times I doubted our chances of succeeding.
Being completely immersed in weddings last year (4 total as Ryan married Johanna in December and Nina married Rich in April, in addition to Alyssa and Aubrey in May and Nick and Victoria in August) there were times I felt completely overwhelmed. The emotional element and the effect of changing family dynamics cannot be understated.
By the time my sweet Victoria's wedding rolled around on August 27th I was approaching complete burnout. But we pushed on and with the help of literally dozens of generous and talented people all of these major events concluded happily.
The weeks following Victoria's wedding were very...surreal...for me.
After Alyssa was married I was immediately plunged into preparation for Victoria's nuptials. I really did not have time to process the fact that she had left home. My time and attention were immediately turned to the details of Victoria's celebration.
13 weeks is not much time to recover and resurrect creativity, finances, and energy.
Rushing headlong toward the wedding week there were times I felt as if I were in another world altogether...someone else's world. I could not figure out how my neat, quiet, ordered existence had been transformed into this insane gallop toward the finish line.
Sparing details, near misses, potential disasters and practical financial ruin () I am happy to say that both of my sweet girls, Nina, and Ryan are all happily married and busily creating their own futures. It is a joy every day to watch them love, grow, live, and develop their own families.
We here at home, on the other hand, also had to learn and grow. We had to embrace change...and even positive change can be painful.
Suddenly our little house went from bursting with 10 family members to a quiet...almost somber at times...5.
Rush, Brittany and baby David James moved to Rio Linda with Brittany's parents for a time, and now have their own little place. (So proud of them! )
One day I realized there were no little 1 year old footsteps echoing through our house. No high chair in the dining room. Fewer toys in the playroom. That giggles and curly hair and sloppy, sweet kisses were not a part of my daily life any more.
I no longer listened for Victoria to arrive home from work in the evening. I no longer heard her singing about the house. She no longer came and perched beside me on the arm of the sofa to share details of her day.
Alyssa was gone too. My sunshine girl who clanged around the kitchen creating lovely things and who always had time to make up a story for Julia.
The silence at times was deafening.
Julia started the new school term.
Susanna left with David each morning at 7. She is working 2 jobs, and taking night classes at CRC...she does not return till 10 every evening.
Only Olivia and I are at home every day now.
It is strange, I tell you. Strange.
Coming to terms with the changes, and with the strangeness of our new reality was not only difficult for me, but for Olivia and Julia as well.
For me it was the loss of the hustle and bustle of a full-to-the-brim-and-overflowing house.
It was the relinquishing of daily oversight and concern for my girls, and releasing them to the capable care of their new husbands.
It was the lack of longstanding daily contact.
Suddenly I saw my girls only a couple of times a week...not every day.
Desultory conversations...the daily happenstance of living together...were gone. I missed the "Hey, mom! What's for dinner?" and the "Can I borrow your...(fill in the blank)." You know how sisters are.
24 years of having children.
7 children with all their attendant joys and struggles.
Homeschooling for 18 years.
Yes.
I am very used to having my kids around.
For Olivia and Julia the missing was acute.
Being disabled Julia is often not given credit for being as cognizant of her surroundings as she really is. She understands a great deal more than most people...even we, her family...expect.
Her preferred method of coping was increased tantruming.
And increased stimming behaviors.
And increased aggression.
And increased self-mutilation.
(Which is just a really scary term for pulling her hair and biting herself...regardless, it's not a good thing. Trust me on this.)
We had a rough couple of months, I tell you.
Olivia became very withdrawn.
She was conflicted.
She was happy for her sisters but selfishly angry at what she perceived was their abandonment of her.
Fortunately she was able to process through her emotions pretty quickly and soon reverted to the cheerful, helpful girl I know so well. Weekly overnight visits and frequent coffee dates with her sisters helped.
A lot.
So...survival was the theme of 2011.
Just cope.
Just make it all happen...and hopefully with some modicum of success.
Re-learn...re-direct...release.
Now we are 27 days into 2012 and I feel the burgeoning awareness of a new theme. Gently and quietly it has impressed itself upon me...intruding so lightly into my consciousness as to be almost ignored.
This years theme is growth.
Last year was a year of change...a year of effort...a year of paralyzing emotion.
This is the year to grow.
To become.
To grow new relationships. To nurture existing ones.
To develop new and better habits. To strengthen tried and true methods.
To embrace greater ideas and bigger dreams, and to hold fast to old promises and believe in old prayers.
I want to grow in my love for Jesus.
I want to grow in my love for my husband.
I want to grow in my relationships with each of my children and their spouses.
I want to see growth in my personal life, in my family, and on our little patch of earth here in the Grove.
I don't want to take any important relationship in my life for granted.
I want to treasure my family and friends and church family with an unprecedented passion and commitment.
I want to become more than I have ever been.
I want to do more than I have ever done.
For God.
And for my family.
I want to learn new things and try things that have been lurking in the back of my mind for a long time.
I want to develop gifts and talents that have long laid dormant in my life.
I want to give of myself more freely, love more purely, laugh more easily, and be more thoughtful, gentle, encouraging, and fun.
I want to fling open the doors of my home and my heart in joyful welcome.
There are dreams to catch and vision to cast...and most importantly...love to give.
So...I forge into 2012 with these two quotes as my motto:
Exercise Integrity in the Moment of Choice
-Stephen Covey
and
Do Common Things Uncommonly Well
-John D. Rockefeller
Here's to the sunshine and showers of 2012 that will foster growth!
What proved to be the theme for 2011 did not take long to manifest itself as we joyfully struggled through weddings for not one, but two of our five daughters.
Last years theme was survival, and at times I doubted our chances of succeeding.
Being completely immersed in weddings last year (4 total as Ryan married Johanna in December and Nina married Rich in April, in addition to Alyssa and Aubrey in May and Nick and Victoria in August) there were times I felt completely overwhelmed. The emotional element and the effect of changing family dynamics cannot be understated.
By the time my sweet Victoria's wedding rolled around on August 27th I was approaching complete burnout. But we pushed on and with the help of literally dozens of generous and talented people all of these major events concluded happily.
The weeks following Victoria's wedding were very...surreal...for me.
After Alyssa was married I was immediately plunged into preparation for Victoria's nuptials. I really did not have time to process the fact that she had left home. My time and attention were immediately turned to the details of Victoria's celebration.
13 weeks is not much time to recover and resurrect creativity, finances, and energy.
Rushing headlong toward the wedding week there were times I felt as if I were in another world altogether...someone else's world. I could not figure out how my neat, quiet, ordered existence had been transformed into this insane gallop toward the finish line.
Sparing details, near misses, potential disasters and practical financial ruin () I am happy to say that both of my sweet girls, Nina, and Ryan are all happily married and busily creating their own futures. It is a joy every day to watch them love, grow, live, and develop their own families.
We here at home, on the other hand, also had to learn and grow. We had to embrace change...and even positive change can be painful.
Suddenly our little house went from bursting with 10 family members to a quiet...almost somber at times...5.
Rush, Brittany and baby David James moved to Rio Linda with Brittany's parents for a time, and now have their own little place. (So proud of them! )
One day I realized there were no little 1 year old footsteps echoing through our house. No high chair in the dining room. Fewer toys in the playroom. That giggles and curly hair and sloppy, sweet kisses were not a part of my daily life any more.
I no longer listened for Victoria to arrive home from work in the evening. I no longer heard her singing about the house. She no longer came and perched beside me on the arm of the sofa to share details of her day.
Alyssa was gone too. My sunshine girl who clanged around the kitchen creating lovely things and who always had time to make up a story for Julia.
The silence at times was deafening.
Julia started the new school term.
Susanna left with David each morning at 7. She is working 2 jobs, and taking night classes at CRC...she does not return till 10 every evening.
Only Olivia and I are at home every day now.
It is strange, I tell you. Strange.
Coming to terms with the changes, and with the strangeness of our new reality was not only difficult for me, but for Olivia and Julia as well.
For me it was the loss of the hustle and bustle of a full-to-the-brim-and-overflowing house.
It was the relinquishing of daily oversight and concern for my girls, and releasing them to the capable care of their new husbands.
It was the lack of longstanding daily contact.
Suddenly I saw my girls only a couple of times a week...not every day.
Desultory conversations...the daily happenstance of living together...were gone. I missed the "Hey, mom! What's for dinner?" and the "Can I borrow your...(fill in the blank)." You know how sisters are.
24 years of having children.
7 children with all their attendant joys and struggles.
Homeschooling for 18 years.
Yes.
I am very used to having my kids around.
For Olivia and Julia the missing was acute.
Being disabled Julia is often not given credit for being as cognizant of her surroundings as she really is. She understands a great deal more than most people...even we, her family...expect.
Her preferred method of coping was increased tantruming.
And increased stimming behaviors.
And increased aggression.
And increased self-mutilation.
(Which is just a really scary term for pulling her hair and biting herself...regardless, it's not a good thing. Trust me on this.)
We had a rough couple of months, I tell you.
Olivia became very withdrawn.
She was conflicted.
She was happy for her sisters but selfishly angry at what she perceived was their abandonment of her.
Fortunately she was able to process through her emotions pretty quickly and soon reverted to the cheerful, helpful girl I know so well. Weekly overnight visits and frequent coffee dates with her sisters helped.
A lot.
So...survival was the theme of 2011.
Just cope.
Just make it all happen...and hopefully with some modicum of success.
Re-learn...re-direct...release.
Now we are 27 days into 2012 and I feel the burgeoning awareness of a new theme. Gently and quietly it has impressed itself upon me...intruding so lightly into my consciousness as to be almost ignored.
This years theme is growth.
Last year was a year of change...a year of effort...a year of paralyzing emotion.
This is the year to grow.
To become.
To grow new relationships. To nurture existing ones.
To develop new and better habits. To strengthen tried and true methods.
To embrace greater ideas and bigger dreams, and to hold fast to old promises and believe in old prayers.
I want to grow in my love for Jesus.
I want to grow in my love for my husband.
I want to grow in my relationships with each of my children and their spouses.
I want to see growth in my personal life, in my family, and on our little patch of earth here in the Grove.
I don't want to take any important relationship in my life for granted.
I want to treasure my family and friends and church family with an unprecedented passion and commitment.
I want to become more than I have ever been.
I want to do more than I have ever done.
For God.
And for my family.
I want to learn new things and try things that have been lurking in the back of my mind for a long time.
I want to develop gifts and talents that have long laid dormant in my life.
I want to give of myself more freely, love more purely, laugh more easily, and be more thoughtful, gentle, encouraging, and fun.
I want to fling open the doors of my home and my heart in joyful welcome.
There are dreams to catch and vision to cast...and most importantly...love to give.
So...I forge into 2012 with these two quotes as my motto:
Exercise Integrity in the Moment of Choice
-Stephen Covey
and
Do Common Things Uncommonly Well
-John D. Rockefeller
Here's to the sunshine and showers of 2012 that will foster growth!
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Irony
In light of yesterday's rant I found it amusing that this came up in my Pinterest feed today.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Success!
Well. After yesterday's panicked rant about dirty dishes and socks and Butter Loaf Cake I figured I'd better post about today.
Today. Was. Much. Better.
Thank God.
Another day of total failure and I would have really been ready for the loony bin.
Today's success began (as EVERY days success does) with what I did LAST NIGHT.
See, I have this analogy (that my children have heard at least 1,000 times. Really. Ask them.) that compares each day to a picture.
Life, to me, is just one big sketch pad, and each day is a page in the pad.
Now, I don't know how anyone else feels about it, but when I want to draw a picture I always like to start with a clean, smooth sheet of paper. I don't want a piece someone else has scribbled on. I don't want a piece that someone has erased their drawing from.
I want a new, clean sheet of paper.
(I know you know where I'm going with this. But it's ok. This is my space to say it a hundred times if I want.)
So, if I want to draw a beautiful picture on today's sheet of paper then IT MUST BE A NICE, NEW, CLEAN sheet of paper.
Meaning...I don't want to get up and "erase" yesterday's marks off today's paper.
In a long, round-about way I just explained why TODAY'S SUCCESS started LAST NIGHT.
After I got finished with my I-am-a-total-failure-just-shoot-me-now post I did exactly what I said I was going to do.
I changed Julia's diaper. (Almost had to declare a state of emergency over that one.)
I had a nice long conversation with Jesus. Nothing like that to make you feel better. Really.
I finished supper. Served it. Cleaned it up. WASHED THOSE PESKY DISHES.
I gave Julia a shower. Got her into her cozy flannel jammies with the pink elephants all over them.
Packed her backpack. Made her lunch. Laid out her clothes.
Made up my bed with clean sheets. Folded the socks and put them in the drawer.
Then I set up the coffee pot. Set out chicken to thaw in the fridge and decided on breakfast. (My first hot breakfast in 8 days, remember.)
I kissed Julia and tucked her in...Olivia stayed another night at Nick and Victoria's...and prayed for my children. The 2 at home and the others in their respective homes around the city.
I made sure the house was at ground zero...tidy, swept, clean...no clutter or disordered belongings lying about...and turned out the lights.
Then I went to bed with a clear conscience and a sense of inner peace.
When the alarm sounded at 6:30 this morning it was hard to get up.
It was hard to get dressed in the cold dark. (We heat solely with our woodstove and David had not re-kindled the fire yet.)
I dressed quickly and padded to the kitchen in a pair of David's clean socks.
I will tell you this.
If the house had been messy I would have gone back to my warm bed and snuggly down comforter. I would have.
If there had been dishes piled in the sink I would have turned around and walked away.
Cowardly, I know.
But...I'm being honest here.
Instead I made David eggs and ham and toasted bagels. I pushed the little button on the coffee pot and it magically sprang to life and began gurgling forth the icky black brew my husband adores.
I made his sandwiches and poured his coffee and slowly...so slowly...began to come alive.
By the time it was time to wake Julia and get her to the bus I was awake and ready to take on the world.
Ready...as goes my analogy...to draw a beautiful picture on the paper dated January 25, 2012.
And so far, though it is no Rembrandt, it is a picture I am not ashamed of.
Tomorrow's success depends on what I do today.
Or, as Aristotle so eloquently put it:
We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an ACT but a HABIT.
Here's to a sketch pad full of beautiful days.
Today. Was. Much. Better.
Thank God.
Another day of total failure and I would have really been ready for the loony bin.
Today's success began (as EVERY days success does) with what I did LAST NIGHT.
See, I have this analogy (that my children have heard at least 1,000 times. Really. Ask them.) that compares each day to a picture.
Life, to me, is just one big sketch pad, and each day is a page in the pad.
Now, I don't know how anyone else feels about it, but when I want to draw a picture I always like to start with a clean, smooth sheet of paper. I don't want a piece someone else has scribbled on. I don't want a piece that someone has erased their drawing from.
I want a new, clean sheet of paper.
(I know you know where I'm going with this. But it's ok. This is my space to say it a hundred times if I want.)
So, if I want to draw a beautiful picture on today's sheet of paper then IT MUST BE A NICE, NEW, CLEAN sheet of paper.
Meaning...I don't want to get up and "erase" yesterday's marks off today's paper.
In a long, round-about way I just explained why TODAY'S SUCCESS started LAST NIGHT.
After I got finished with my I-am-a-total-failure-just-shoot-me-now post I did exactly what I said I was going to do.
I changed Julia's diaper. (Almost had to declare a state of emergency over that one.)
I had a nice long conversation with Jesus. Nothing like that to make you feel better. Really.
I finished supper. Served it. Cleaned it up. WASHED THOSE PESKY DISHES.
I gave Julia a shower. Got her into her cozy flannel jammies with the pink elephants all over them.
Packed her backpack. Made her lunch. Laid out her clothes.
Made up my bed with clean sheets. Folded the socks and put them in the drawer.
Then I set up the coffee pot. Set out chicken to thaw in the fridge and decided on breakfast. (My first hot breakfast in 8 days, remember.)
I kissed Julia and tucked her in...Olivia stayed another night at Nick and Victoria's...and prayed for my children. The 2 at home and the others in their respective homes around the city.
I made sure the house was at ground zero...tidy, swept, clean...no clutter or disordered belongings lying about...and turned out the lights.
Then I went to bed with a clear conscience and a sense of inner peace.
When the alarm sounded at 6:30 this morning it was hard to get up.
It was hard to get dressed in the cold dark. (We heat solely with our woodstove and David had not re-kindled the fire yet.)
I dressed quickly and padded to the kitchen in a pair of David's clean socks.
I will tell you this.
If the house had been messy I would have gone back to my warm bed and snuggly down comforter. I would have.
If there had been dishes piled in the sink I would have turned around and walked away.
Cowardly, I know.
But...I'm being honest here.
Instead I made David eggs and ham and toasted bagels. I pushed the little button on the coffee pot and it magically sprang to life and began gurgling forth the icky black brew my husband adores.
I made his sandwiches and poured his coffee and slowly...so slowly...began to come alive.
By the time it was time to wake Julia and get her to the bus I was awake and ready to take on the world.
Ready...as goes my analogy...to draw a beautiful picture on the paper dated January 25, 2012.
And so far, though it is no Rembrandt, it is a picture I am not ashamed of.
Tomorrow's success depends on what I do today.
Or, as Aristotle so eloquently put it:
We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an ACT but a HABIT.
Here's to a sketch pad full of beautiful days.
Blogging is a BIG DEAL.
WARNING. OPINIONATED POST AHEAD.
Another rant, if you will.
If you blog for profit...or HOPE to blog for profit...you might want to stop reading right now.
So. I have received this stunning revelation.
Blogging is BIG. Like MAJOR.
I had no idea. I'm REALLY late to this party...
All this time I thought blogging was just another form of social media. A public journal of sorts. A way to stay connected with Uncle Hugo and Aunt Hildegard. A way to share photos of Junior's first bath/smile/tooth/step/day of school.
I thought the blogging world was full of people (like me) who just liked seeing their thoughts and opinions set down in neat font on cool templates. (Instead of scribbled on yellow legal pads that end up in a box under the bed.)
It seems I was wrong.
Way wrong.
Blogging, it seems, is about two things.
Making money. And popularity.
Hmmmm.
My recent addiction to Pinterest (There really should be a 12 step program for junkies like me...) has brought me to this startling revelation.
From my pins on Pinterest I have visited many blogs. Some I've enjoyed. Some not so much.
Several are talking about their business. Blogging.
It's a business now.
Managing their sponsors. Juggling their clients. Pumping up the number of followers. (Pleeese, pleeeese, pleeeeeeeese follow me!!!)
Wow.
Invoicing their ad people and researching posts and...and...and...
It's confusing to me. I mean...if you can make money showing me a new crochet stitch...GREAT. I really have no problem with women finding a way to make money at home.
Just be REAL about it.
But...and herein lies my bone of contention...A LOT of these women are stay-at-home-moms. Homeschooling moms. Mothers of more than one child under the age of 10.
And while in one post they are telling me the best way to keep my floors shiny and how to decorate my humble abode on a shoestring and how to feed my family gourmet meats for $1.26 per serving, in the next post they are bemoaning the fact that THEIR floors haven't been mopped in a month and their 8 year old just learned to make Top Ramen in self defense. (He was tired of peanut butter and jelly and wanted something WARM to eat.)
Please, people. Practice what you preach. Don't blog about the importance of family dinner when your kids are eating Top Ramen in front of the TV...REGULARLY.
Don't admit that your kids aren't dressed or had their hair brushed yet (and it's 6:00 PM) because you've been SO BUSY WRITING YOUR BLOG ALL DAY. (And you stayed up all night "researching" so they got up alone and ate dry Lucky Charms out of the box...aren't my little darlings resourceful?!) and THEN try to sell me your ebook on Home Management.
Now...I refuse to tar every blogger with the same brush. There are hundreds...thousands...of honest folks out there blogging away and raking in the dough. And I know there are many, many people who blog AND still have it all together.
(Then there is the blogger who has made a business out of NOT having it together. "Come look at how trashed my home is...")
To be really honest...I'm not even sure why my feathers are ruffled. Maybe because of the sudden shift in perspective. Maybe because I now look at most bloggers with a jaundiced eye. I'm just another "follower" that makes them money when I hit their site.
I don't know.
I feel slightly duped...used. And here I thought they just wanted to share their enthusiasm for the latest way to make a hand-stamped burlap pillow. I didn't know they were MARKETING said pillow.
Kind of like the salesman that comes off as your best friend. You KNOW all he wants is to sell you something.
And now there are ebooks. Really? Everyone who can type thinks they're an author.
And everyone who has copied an idea from some other blogger (and ADDED THEIR OWN TWIST) thinks they are a designer. Sigh.
I just don't know.
What I DO know is that, for me, blogging will continue to be a format with which to record daily life. My home...my kids...my thoughts.
And...in my mind at least...this is still a very simple journal.
Now...excuse me...I have some blogs to read. My inbox is full of "New Post" notifications.
CHA-CHING.
Another rant, if you will.
If you blog for profit...or HOPE to blog for profit...you might want to stop reading right now.
So. I have received this stunning revelation.
Blogging is BIG. Like MAJOR.
I had no idea. I'm REALLY late to this party...
All this time I thought blogging was just another form of social media. A public journal of sorts. A way to stay connected with Uncle Hugo and Aunt Hildegard. A way to share photos of Junior's first bath/smile/tooth/step/day of school.
I thought the blogging world was full of people (like me) who just liked seeing their thoughts and opinions set down in neat font on cool templates. (Instead of scribbled on yellow legal pads that end up in a box under the bed.)
It seems I was wrong.
Way wrong.
Blogging, it seems, is about two things.
Making money. And popularity.
Hmmmm.
My recent addiction to Pinterest (There really should be a 12 step program for junkies like me...) has brought me to this startling revelation.
From my pins on Pinterest I have visited many blogs. Some I've enjoyed. Some not so much.
Several are talking about their business. Blogging.
It's a business now.
Managing their sponsors. Juggling their clients. Pumping up the number of followers. (Pleeese, pleeeese, pleeeeeeeese follow me!!!)
Wow.
Invoicing their ad people and researching posts and...and...and...
It's confusing to me. I mean...if you can make money showing me a new crochet stitch...GREAT. I really have no problem with women finding a way to make money at home.
Just be REAL about it.
But...and herein lies my bone of contention...A LOT of these women are stay-at-home-moms. Homeschooling moms. Mothers of more than one child under the age of 10.
And while in one post they are telling me the best way to keep my floors shiny and how to decorate my humble abode on a shoestring and how to feed my family gourmet meats for $1.26 per serving, in the next post they are bemoaning the fact that THEIR floors haven't been mopped in a month and their 8 year old just learned to make Top Ramen in self defense. (He was tired of peanut butter and jelly and wanted something WARM to eat.)
Please, people. Practice what you preach. Don't blog about the importance of family dinner when your kids are eating Top Ramen in front of the TV...REGULARLY.
Don't admit that your kids aren't dressed or had their hair brushed yet (and it's 6:00 PM) because you've been SO BUSY WRITING YOUR BLOG ALL DAY. (And you stayed up all night "researching" so they got up alone and ate dry Lucky Charms out of the box...aren't my little darlings resourceful?!) and THEN try to sell me your ebook on Home Management.
Now...I refuse to tar every blogger with the same brush. There are hundreds...thousands...of honest folks out there blogging away and raking in the dough. And I know there are many, many people who blog AND still have it all together.
(Then there is the blogger who has made a business out of NOT having it together. "Come look at how trashed my home is...")
To be really honest...I'm not even sure why my feathers are ruffled. Maybe because of the sudden shift in perspective. Maybe because I now look at most bloggers with a jaundiced eye. I'm just another "follower" that makes them money when I hit their site.
I don't know.
I feel slightly duped...used. And here I thought they just wanted to share their enthusiasm for the latest way to make a hand-stamped burlap pillow. I didn't know they were MARKETING said pillow.
Kind of like the salesman that comes off as your best friend. You KNOW all he wants is to sell you something.
And now there are ebooks. Really? Everyone who can type thinks they're an author.
And everyone who has copied an idea from some other blogger (and ADDED THEIR OWN TWIST) thinks they are a designer. Sigh.
I just don't know.
What I DO know is that, for me, blogging will continue to be a format with which to record daily life. My home...my kids...my thoughts.
And...in my mind at least...this is still a very simple journal.
Now...excuse me...I have some blogs to read. My inbox is full of "New Post" notifications.
CHA-CHING.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Just Sayin
I have this blog post rolling around in my head.
In my perfect world I could just say everything I want to and then go on my merry way. After all, it's not like anyone reads this blog. (And I want to go on record saying that that is ok...I started this blog as a sort of personal journal anyway. In fact, I almost opened it under another account and fictitious name.)
I'm not even sure WHY I would want to say some of this on a public forum.
????????
Pressing onward.
I am bothered by things.
I am bothered by the fact that I just ate 2/3 of an Entenmann's Butter Loaf Cake.
That's five (5) slices.
F-I-V-E.
By myself.
With Reddi Wip on top. And not even one measly strawberry or slice of banana to pretend to make it "healthy".
I am bothered that hubby ran out of clean socks yesterday.
Yes.
Really.
Go ahead and laugh. This is a big deal to me.
After all. Clean socks for hubby has been part of my job description for almost 26 years. You would THINK I would have it mastered by now.
Check the drawer.
Oh, my! No clean socks.
WASH SOME!
And as he told me (grumpily) he had to wear BLACK DRESS SOCKS to work. And they kept sliding down in his boots.
Very annoying, I'm sure.
I am bothered (very) by the frustration I feel toward Julia at times. I mean, it's not like she ASKED to be disabled.
But sometimes I want to scream. (I don't.)
And sometimes I want to cry (I do...rarely.)
And sometimes I just plain worry. (Often.)
Like...what will I do when ALL the older children are gone?
And...what will I do when she's bigger than I am?
And...will I still be changing poopy diapers when she's 30?
And...when she is 30 I will be 76.
Yes.
76.
Ummmm...that's really old to be changing diapers.
Onward.
I went to bed last night with dishes in the sink.
Fail.
Now...this may seem minor to you...but I cannot remember the last time I went to bed with dirty dishes.
This is major to me.
It may be 3:00 in the morning, but I don't put this weary body in the bed till the dishes are clean.
And the house is completely straight.
And Julia's clothes are laid out...her backpack prepped...her lunch packed and in the fridge.
And dinner planned for the next day.
And breakfast prepped.
And the coffee pot set up.
AND CLEAN SOCKS ARE IN DAVID'S DRAWER.
(Those socks are really bothering me.)
I. Do. Not. Leave. Messes. Overnight.
(Unless, of course, there is a whole houseful of cousins sleeping over, jumping on the beds and slamming in and out of the house till dawn. THEN messes are inevitable. I mean THE BEST time to play in 10 wooded acres is at night. With a flashlight.
That's an acceptable exception.
Last night's mess was laziness. Plain and simple.)
AND before anyone thinks that all of this is blown WAY out of proportion (it is) you have to understand that it represents a very serious backsliding into days I would rather forget forever.
Very serious.
The ground is slipping even now.
Onward.
I wonder. A lot.
I wonder what people would think if they knew that Julia was sitting beside me (on the couch) crumbling the last 1/3 of the Butter Loaf Cake into the upholstery.
Or that I haven't made a hot breakfast for over a week.
(Really and truly. 8 days to be precise.)
And I make hot breakfast 7 days a week. It's part of my job description. And I love it. But I've been SO TIRED lately...that extra 45 minutes of sleep has meant more to me than blessing my family.
WARNING - WARNING...slippery slope ahead!!!
Or if they knew how carefully I frame each picture I take so that none of the imperfections in my house show.
Like walls that are framed in, but not even sheet rocked.
Or if they had any idea how many bags of garbage are out in the pile waiting to be burnt.
Because we can't burn in summer.
And it's been a dry winter.
And David just plain doesn't want to do it.
I wonder what would be the reaction if they knew how inadequate and ineffective I feel sometimes.
(Read: MOST of the time.)
And how I LONG to be so much more than I am.
And that under my cheerful smile and calm exterior I really want to scream and cry.
And sometimes I DON'T WANT to be positive.
And I DON'T WANT to be cheerful.
And my life is JUST AS nuts, crazy, mixed-up, worrisome, scary as theirs is.
And sometimes I don't want to do the dishes.
And I don't check the drawer for clean socks.
And I eat loaf cake with Reddi Wip all day long. And nothing healthy OR homemade.
And sometimes I don't want to be patient.
And I don't want to be kind.
Sad, but true.
Now...I want to interrupt this rant/complaint fest to say that I KNOW these are first world problems. And I KNOW that there are starving, abused, sexually exploited children all over the world. And I KNOW that in the grand scheme of things this of very little (if any) importance. I KNOW.
Ok...ok...onward.
Almost there.
What now?
Now I get off this couch.
And I change Julia's diaper.
(Because...believe me...that's a number 1, A list priority right now.
Then I go have myself a good old-fashioned prayer meeting. Just me and God.
(And Julia )
'Cause really, that's what this is all about.
And I will repent for my stinky attitude and self-pity and laziness.
And I will pray for my family.
And I will pray for all those children around the world who need encouragement, strength, blessing, and provision more than I do.
Then I will clean up the cake...fold the socks and put them away...and wash the dishes...and take some medicine because all that cake really has my tummy upset.
And I will put the clean sheets on the bed...and finish supper...and give Julia her shower.
And I will serve supper...and WASH THE DISHES...and prep breakfast.
I will set the coffee pot...lay out Julia's clothes...make her lunch...prep her back pack.
And set meat for tomorrows supper in the fridge to thaw.
And tidy the house.
And tuck in my little sweeties and thank Jesus for giving them to me. All of them.
I will pray for my children who still live here at home and for the ones who have moved out.
And then I will take a shower and go to bed.
And tomorrow I will have my groove back.
(I hope.)
Onward.
In my perfect world I could just say everything I want to and then go on my merry way. After all, it's not like anyone reads this blog. (And I want to go on record saying that that is ok...I started this blog as a sort of personal journal anyway. In fact, I almost opened it under another account and fictitious name.)
I'm not even sure WHY I would want to say some of this on a public forum.
????????
Pressing onward.
I am bothered by things.
I am bothered by the fact that I just ate 2/3 of an Entenmann's Butter Loaf Cake.
That's five (5) slices.
F-I-V-E.
By myself.
With Reddi Wip on top. And not even one measly strawberry or slice of banana to pretend to make it "healthy".
I am bothered that hubby ran out of clean socks yesterday.
Yes.
Really.
Go ahead and laugh. This is a big deal to me.
After all. Clean socks for hubby has been part of my job description for almost 26 years. You would THINK I would have it mastered by now.
Check the drawer.
Oh, my! No clean socks.
WASH SOME!
And as he told me (grumpily) he had to wear BLACK DRESS SOCKS to work. And they kept sliding down in his boots.
Very annoying, I'm sure.
I am bothered (very) by the frustration I feel toward Julia at times. I mean, it's not like she ASKED to be disabled.
But sometimes I want to scream. (I don't.)
And sometimes I want to cry (I do...rarely.)
And sometimes I just plain worry. (Often.)
Like...what will I do when ALL the older children are gone?
And...what will I do when she's bigger than I am?
And...will I still be changing poopy diapers when she's 30?
And...when she is 30 I will be 76.
Yes.
76.
Ummmm...that's really old to be changing diapers.
Onward.
I went to bed last night with dishes in the sink.
Fail.
Now...this may seem minor to you...but I cannot remember the last time I went to bed with dirty dishes.
This is major to me.
It may be 3:00 in the morning, but I don't put this weary body in the bed till the dishes are clean.
And the house is completely straight.
And Julia's clothes are laid out...her backpack prepped...her lunch packed and in the fridge.
And dinner planned for the next day.
And breakfast prepped.
And the coffee pot set up.
AND CLEAN SOCKS ARE IN DAVID'S DRAWER.
(Those socks are really bothering me.)
I. Do. Not. Leave. Messes. Overnight.
(Unless, of course, there is a whole houseful of cousins sleeping over, jumping on the beds and slamming in and out of the house till dawn. THEN messes are inevitable. I mean THE BEST time to play in 10 wooded acres is at night. With a flashlight.
That's an acceptable exception.
Last night's mess was laziness. Plain and simple.)
AND before anyone thinks that all of this is blown WAY out of proportion (it is) you have to understand that it represents a very serious backsliding into days I would rather forget forever.
Very serious.
The ground is slipping even now.
Onward.
I wonder. A lot.
I wonder what people would think if they knew that Julia was sitting beside me (on the couch) crumbling the last 1/3 of the Butter Loaf Cake into the upholstery.
Or that I haven't made a hot breakfast for over a week.
(Really and truly. 8 days to be precise.)
And I make hot breakfast 7 days a week. It's part of my job description. And I love it. But I've been SO TIRED lately...that extra 45 minutes of sleep has meant more to me than blessing my family.
WARNING - WARNING...slippery slope ahead!!!
Or if they knew how carefully I frame each picture I take so that none of the imperfections in my house show.
Like walls that are framed in, but not even sheet rocked.
Or if they had any idea how many bags of garbage are out in the pile waiting to be burnt.
Because we can't burn in summer.
And it's been a dry winter.
And David just plain doesn't want to do it.
I wonder what would be the reaction if they knew how inadequate and ineffective I feel sometimes.
(Read: MOST of the time.)
And how I LONG to be so much more than I am.
And that under my cheerful smile and calm exterior I really want to scream and cry.
And sometimes I DON'T WANT to be positive.
And I DON'T WANT to be cheerful.
And my life is JUST AS nuts, crazy, mixed-up, worrisome, scary as theirs is.
And sometimes I don't want to do the dishes.
And I don't check the drawer for clean socks.
And I eat loaf cake with Reddi Wip all day long. And nothing healthy OR homemade.
And sometimes I don't want to be patient.
And I don't want to be kind.
Sad, but true.
Now...I want to interrupt this rant/complaint fest to say that I KNOW these are first world problems. And I KNOW that there are starving, abused, sexually exploited children all over the world. And I KNOW that in the grand scheme of things this of very little (if any) importance. I KNOW.
Ok...ok...onward.
Almost there.
What now?
Now I get off this couch.
And I change Julia's diaper.
(Because...believe me...that's a number 1, A list priority right now.
Then I go have myself a good old-fashioned prayer meeting. Just me and God.
(And Julia )
'Cause really, that's what this is all about.
And I will repent for my stinky attitude and self-pity and laziness.
And I will pray for my family.
And I will pray for all those children around the world who need encouragement, strength, blessing, and provision more than I do.
Then I will clean up the cake...fold the socks and put them away...and wash the dishes...and take some medicine because all that cake really has my tummy upset.
And I will put the clean sheets on the bed...and finish supper...and give Julia her shower.
And I will serve supper...and WASH THE DISHES...and prep breakfast.
I will set the coffee pot...lay out Julia's clothes...make her lunch...prep her back pack.
And set meat for tomorrows supper in the fridge to thaw.
And tidy the house.
And tuck in my little sweeties and thank Jesus for giving them to me. All of them.
I will pray for my children who still live here at home and for the ones who have moved out.
And then I will take a shower and go to bed.
And tomorrow I will have my groove back.
(I hope.)
Onward.
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