living out loud

last night i went to hear Glennon Doyle from Momastery.com. i got a pre-print copy of her book Carry On, Warrior months ago. i was ecstatic to hear her speak on suffering and faith and healing. although our stories aren't all the same, i could relate to so many of them. for example, when i was age 7 (or so), my sister told me i was fat. maybe i never became bulimic, but i remember crying. she brought me a teddy bear. to this day i remember thinking, does she really think this changes things? i've since forgiven my sister, but i've come out of it learning i don't want gifts as a form of apology. it doesn't work for me.

as my very close friend and neighbor, Ariana, walked in to the church where Glennon was speaking, i was plotting my response to the email my husband had sent and i felt the need to respond, strongly. we found our seats and i started replying and as i found myself struggling to find the words i needed to repute what he was saying, Glennon said something about not to fight back. and it hit me! i stopped right then and there, deleted what i was working on and finished up with the email cordially and with no fighting. after all, i knew i was so tired of fighting, so why would i continue with this? so as ariana and i were sitting listening to Glennon finishing up her talk, i knew i wanted to say SOMETHING, during the Q & A... i just wasn't sure what. finally it came to me. i leaned over to Ariana and said, "I know what i want to say!" she said, "GO!" So i walked my sassy-self up there to the microphone, in my cream high healed wedges, cuffed skinny jeans, thin white sweater and light turquoise colored bracelet, heart racing and stood and waited. the pastor announced i would be the last one to comment. great, i thought, i better make this good! (FYI, this is not exactly what i said, but here's why i had to say something)

a year ago, i found myself a working, single mom of four. my husband had left for the second time that year. he left two more times last year and finally after Christmas, i told him not to come back anymore. so last spring, i came home from work and the grass was long. i got the lawn mower out and started mowing, in my work clothes, bare foot, because who has time to change shoes or clothes. i soon noticed my neighbor (ariana) walking down the street and kept thinking, maybe she won't come talk to me. maybe if i don't notice her, she won't stop! well, she DID stop. she had a few kids with her and asked me how i was. little did she know she was opening the flood gates. "i'm fine", i said, "my husband left (again) recently and i just have to get the lawn mowed." she said, "are you sure it's over?" and i said, "yes, i'm sure." the tears started flowing, her kids just sort of looked at me, this crazy lady, crying in her yard with her lawn mower and yard waste barrel sitting there. mind you, this was only my second time meeting these people! i had nothing else to offer but ME. the real live me. all the good, the bad and the ugly. and she and i bonded immediately. there was no turning back. my ugly story was out and by then, i figured i'd lost a chance at a friend (because who wants a train wreck for a friend?). i was worried i would not be fine. but i AM fine. but i have not ALWAYS been fine. i had my first son at 19 and was so scared telling my family. when i told my grandparents, it took me HOURS. literally! my grandpa looked around at all of us and said, "she's going to be fine. THEY are going to be fine." and i was. little did i know, that little, teary filled conversation opened up a friendship that was bigger than i ever imagined possible. the shallow friendship never existed. i showed her the real me from the start and there was no going back. our friendship had no place to go but deeper and i have realized she is like an angel to me. every body is put into our lives for a reason. after much of my life being told that i should watch what i say, that people don't want to hear about the bad stuff, that it makes them uncomfortable, i found out that actually, the opposite was true. that we could connect on a truer level than i ever thought possible if i just didn't hold back.

i wanted to thank Glennon for being brave and sharing her not-so-pretty stories because in my opinion, the not-so-pretty stories are better and more heartfelt than the perfect ones and that until i stumbled upon her blog and Facebook page, i was always editing who i was and what i said, for fear of offending someone. rest assured, i was crying right away, within the first 30 seconds of speaking and my eyes were dancing in my head and i felt like i couldn't see anything correctly. maybe it was fear for saying my truth because it would make people uncomfortable, maybe it was out of fear because i was speaking in front of a few hundred people. who knows. all i know is i ended by thanking her for being brave and sharing. i told her she inspired me to share who i am and to live out loud, to live with my arms wide open, saying "here i am." she clasped her hands together, put them to her heart and walked down to me to hug me, and as she did, she mouthed to me, "carry on, warrior." the whole place was clapping and standing. surreal.

i didn't mean to take her spotlight. i simply wanted to thank her for being an inspiration to me through a very difficult time. i shared how lonely it is to be sitting besides someone you adore and love, yet feel more lonely than if you were sitting there alone by yourself. she and her book, validated my belief that my desire and need to share my stories, pretty and not-so-pretty and everything in between, is alright because it helps me and also might just help someone else. her stories helped me to identify what i was feeling that was missing in my relationship with my husband...depth. what i loved so much was everyone feels and experiences life's greatest emotions the same, it's the details that are not the same. everyone experiences joy, love, pain, suffering, happiness. do the details really matter? it's the details that cause us to feel that we are lacking and thus, cause us to feel isolated and alone. the best, most wonderful thing that i have seen come out of this stage in my life is that when i felt most alone, confused and desperate for true relationships, my people came out of the woodwork. they lifted me up, supported me, helped me and loved me. for me. with all my messiness. PROOF that i am just as lovable messy as i am nice and neat and predictable. i can be who i am and still be loved.

all my life, i was known for sharing the stories no one wanted told about them. like the time my mom took me and my sisters on a canoe trip to the BWCA and we got stuck going through a shallow canal. my mom got up and stood on a rock and us three girls just sat there, looking up at her, when she said, "maybe if you got your fat asses out of the canoe, we wouldn't be stuck!" it's funny now and we can all laugh at it, but my mom feeling embarrassed, is an understatement as to how she felt when i first shared this story to her book group. let's just say, they still talk about it...in good humor of course. i also get told i'm too intense for most people, which is disheartening because my intensity, partnered with someone else's intensity (about something, not relationship-wise) would be a force to be reckoned with if given a chance.




my story is not a pretty one. it isn't easy, simple or so-called perfect. within my short 32 years, i have lived through more experiences than most will experience in a life time. i don't regret a single moment of it as this is my truth. i am not ashamed. i don't know why coming out of and living through a not-so-perfect life would be considered 'persevering through adversity' by some because for many, it's just been the life they were given and for those of us with a life like this, we don't know it any other way. although it has not been easy, i can say for certain, i would not have wanted it any other way. not for one second. i am emotional, intense, intelligent, loving, kind, fun, reserved, passionate and nurturing. i am a mom, a sister, aunt and friend. i want to continue to share my story out loud because for me, i've never felt freer than i do today.

soothing the soul

when things are kind of topsy turvy and feel kinda crazy, that's my cue. slow down, get comfy and do some major soothing of the soul. my kids seem to be 'off' lately (not gonna lie, i'm feeling quite cabin feverish and also crazy). our winter is dragging on and on and on here in minnesota and honestly, it's beginning to affect me. it's also times like this that i try to go back to a simpler way of being. yummy, filling homemade soups. sitting and reading on the couch. cuddling. playing games and just being together. confession: even with all these nice no pressure days, my kids are STILL driving me bonkers, even though i'm trying to slow down and just do fun things with them. lately i find myself saying, "i am the boss around here!" to my two year old who thinks she's the boss. she will even TELL you she's the boss by saying, "i'm the boss in my house!" i think she's spending a little too much time with someone...ah-hem. :) also, i could REALLY really use a vacation. 

in what feels like head-spinning madness, i've been trying to take time to keep up with the traditions i've created for me and my kids. one of my most favorite traditions for us is Sunday Night Snacks. yep, that's what we call it. sundays are always my day to re-group and get ready for the week. almost every Sunday we go to church. our church is amazing. really. i try not to get all churchy and preachy about how great it is, but i find i can't really help myself. i've never in my life been a part of a church that i felt this way about. most sundays, i find myself so overwhelmed, renewed and my heart filled right up, that i cry. not sobbing, but the tears come and i get choked up. i feel like i'm given a new chance to be a good mom, a good friend and a good person. i'm ready to take on my week ahead. my kids love sunday school and my oldest enjoys youth group. it really is a win for all of us. then we go home, hang out, clean and do whatever. sometimes there are play dates, but usually we are just home. we get in pjs early and we make snacks. the kids LOVE sunday nights! we make air popped popcorn, cut up fruit, ants on a log, cheese and crackers and often i let the kids have some input as to what we have. we carry it all downstairs to the family room and hang out, talk, play, watch a family friendly show. it gets messy usually but that's what vacuums are for, right? it's just a really great way to end the weekend and start the week. when we don't do it, the kids are pretty disappointed. we didn't have sunday night snacks last night so we had them tonight (monday). it definitely did not go over quite as well. they kept asking me what was for dinner. did they really just think it was all just a snack? the kids ended up having a PB & J before bed because apparently, snacks for dinner on a monday never happens and so therefore, dinner didn't happen. 

sunday night snacks didn't start with me. the story i've been told is my grandma (mom's mom) would cook a big sunday dinner and didn't want to cook again, so they started having popcorn and light snacks at night. this was probably about 50 years ago! my mom and dad did them with us and now we all do them with our kids. even though my dad and mom got divorced when i was little, my dad still has popcorn on sunday nights. pretty cool, if you ask me. i love having little things like this that the kids look forward to...things that are a constant even though dad has moved out.

some other intentional things (although maybe not traditions) i try to do are: no cell phone in my hands during story time, bedtime and meal time. everyone can help prepare a part of the meal and we all eat meals together. i make an effort to have everyone go to the other's important events; sports games, concerts, open houses at school, violin recitals, preschool performances. you name it, we are all there if possible. when it's time to clean, each kid has their own special jobs to do so they feel like an important, valued part of the family. we can all help one another. laundry is a family event (everyone folds their own)! i must be doing something right because i caught my 2.5 year old cleaning the potty one day with her baby wipes and man, was she proud! we also turn the music up and have dance parties. sometimes i turn on folky music and just listen and let it do some work on my heart.

i realize many families do the same sort of things, but my hope is to create a sense of continuity...just because dad moved out, doesn't mean we have to stop doing the things we enjoy. but, because dad moved out, mom needs help with certain things. i try to not do the things they can do for themselves and when i see they can do more, i give them more responsibilities. i am trying to teach them that we are a family and as siblings, they are each other's first friends. i am working on them learning that we do things for others because it makes the other person feel good, because we won't like everything we ever do, but it is worth it to see someone else feel important, loved and worthwhile. i tell them i am only one person, so when we are able to help, we have to pitch in or everything will fall apart. we are a team and if only one team member is doing the work, the team isn't really a team. we want all of us to be successful as individuals and as a family. i really try to get them to understand that we love each other and that is the most important thing ever because no one can take us away from our family. i must say it often, because my four year old always says, "why do you ALWAYS say that?!" and i answer, "Because it is THAT important." they don't know it, but they will thank me one day. we all have some healing to do and this is just the place to do that and they already seem to be doing better.  

what are some of your favorite (non-holiday) everyday traditions that help you slow down and stay connected to your children? 

mom, i peed in your bed.

there's nothing quite like waking up to your four year old son saying, ''mom...i peed in your bed.'' i quickly told him to get up and go change, which he did, while i lay there with a sleeping 2.5 year old snoring next to me on my right side. as i lay there stuck on my side, i thought to myself, "well at least he told you before you rolled over and figured it out that way." it really is the little things, people.

so, my four year old son is not 100% potty trained, you see. he needs a lot of reminders all day long and was not really doing very well at night with Pull-Ups staying dry so when we ran out, i ran to Target to buy more. i decided to buy those pads that stick to their sheets instead of Pull-Ups. he did pretty well for a few nights, until last night, that is. also, i wasn't really thinking that i wouldn't be putting the pee pad in my bed. guess i didn't really think this whole thing through.

they love sleeping together

calvin (on the left) always comes in during the night to sleep with me (or us, before my ex moved out for the last time). calvin claims he "never EVER gets to sleep with me," which is a very big understatement and a very hard argument to win at 2 in the morning. before husband moved out after Christmas, we shared a queen size bed in the not-so-huge master bedroom in our not-so-big rambler style house. husband is a pretty big guy (6'2'', 250 lbs) so my share of the bed was never a whole lot, but then you add a four year old to the space and, as of last summer, a 2 year old, and mama ends up with the two year old wrapped in her arm, balancing herself and the little one from falling off the bed, while the boys sleep comfortably on the rest of the bed. squishing mom off to the side wasn't really an intentional thing, as most co-sleeping families/parents with small night visitors know, but nonetheless, i'm good at sleeping in one spot all night.

now, when husband moved out, i would lay in our bed, in our room that felt completely empty, and i swear every sound echoed. i knew behind his closet door was an empty closet. i knew inside his dresser were empty drawers. i still laid in my same space in the bed and perfected not falling off my bed in the night when i had two small night visitors even though there was really plenty of space now in that bed. i decided one night i could not stay in that room. i didn't want that bed, i didn't want anything to do with the one place that would constantly remind me that he used to be there and now was not. that room felt empty and lonely and strange now. i felt like i was laying in another person's bedroom and i didn't belong. my girls were squished in their bedroom now that anja was out of her crib and in a twin bed, so i decided then and there that they would move into the master bedroom and i'd move into their smaller room.

my mom and step dad brought my brass bed over from when i was little. my FULL size brass bed. i didn't care that it was a full size bed. maybe it'd force me to train the kids to sleep in their own beds. my girls had a very colorful bedroom and i would cry looking at 'my' room, with green on the bottom half of the walls, a hot pink stripe around the room and purple at the top, with my childhood bed in there. it felt so ridiculous. i was going to CLAIM MY SPACE, have it beautiful and cozy and MINE. i bought paint and painted that room in a couple days. i found a duvet cover pattern so i ran out and bought fabric and started cutting the pieces out right away. the paint color isn't EXACTLY what i wanted and

my duvet cover isn't finished quite yet (i've got the front done!), but it's mine and it doesn't feel lonely or echoey. i have a 'little bed' set up next to my bed on the floor (crib mattress made up with lots of blankets) for when anja comes in. the truth is, no one sleeps down there and i'm too tired to enforce my nighttime rules. hey, i'm only ONE PERSON. the one person my kids want to sleep with. one night i told anja to sleep on the little bed because "this is what we do. we sleep. because mamas with no sleep are crabby." and she said, "okay mama. i'll sleep down here. because this is what we do. we sleep." yes baby. we sleep. BUT then she popped up and said very exasperated, "if i sleep down here, i can't put my hand on your chest." i said, "you don't NEED to put your hand on me!" her two year old reasoning was, "yes i DO, mama. i have to because i have hands." how do you argue with that?! she climbed on up, we snuggled up and i hung on to the side of my full size bed while the boy slept soundly beside me with plenty of space. sigh.


maybe i need one of these. especially if one day i have to move out of this house and into something smaller...i'm pretty sure the kids wouldn't mind!! i'm also thinking they might still end up in my bed...but when it is all said and done, all kids learn to be independent sleepers. my oldest crept in to sleep with me until age 6 and my second slept with me until she was about 4, when my pregnant belly was too big for more people in the bed.



while i know it won't last forever and i don't always enjoy having a couple of kids in my bed with me every night, waking up stiff because i haven't moved in 8 hours and sometimes i wake up to wet sheets, i'm thankful for them for helping me keep my bed warm(er), for my 2.5 year old daughter who puts her little hand on my chest to fall asleep like she did when she was nursing, and i'm super thankful they feel so safe in my bed with me (even though we're squished). i don't know that i want to take that from them when their lives are being turned upside down. my space isn't entirely mine as i had envisioned, yet it is sacred anyway. it is sacred because they come to me to be loved. and that says it all. love is sacred.