Quit Staring at the Pines

I didn’t give the kids a bath last night.

I didn’t put away the clothes sitting in the basket from two days ago.

I didn’t make my dentist appointment today (and didn’t call to tell them why.)

I didn’t write those thank you notes.

I didn’t paint the kitchen cabinets.

I didn’t make that elephant watering can out of a milk carton that I saw in Parenting Magazine.

I didn’t finish Alice Katharine’s baby scrapbook (didn’t even start Ford’s).

I didn’t post any pictures on my blog – or give it any kind of focus/direction (what the heck is      My Verse about, anyway?)

I didn’t start a thriving home embroidery business (and I just HAD to have that machine).

I didn’t write that book about running and friends, have it made into a movie and then get asked             to be on Oprah (better hurry, only 21 more episodes left).

I am sooo tired from all the things I didn’t do!

So… I’m gonna sit here on the couch and play Scramble on Facebook.

There are two pine trees in our back yard that are taller than all the other trees. Their skinny, branchless trunks give no shade to our house and shed tons of prickly pine cones and needles onto our grass. We talk about getting Big Willy back out to take those useless things down. But for now, we just sit and look at them. Their thick carpet of debris slowly builds up and chokes out our yard. The more I sit and look at those trees and the mess they make, the more I feel buried.

Like the debris on the grass, I feel all the weight of the things I didn’t do making it more impossible to move. So I waste more time, just sitting there looking at them. I made the painful calculations of how much time I’ve spent playing Scramble, using it to escape when I felt overwhelmed by all the things that I have failed to do. I have played 6,568 games over the past two years since I discovered it. Each game is three minutes long. That comes out to 19,704 minutes or 328 hours. Take a productive, 40-hour work week, and that’s EIGHT weeks of continuous play. Eight weeks of a complete waste of time. Time I could have used to fold laundry, paint, take pictures, write a book.

Sitting on the back porch, staring at those pine trees, I’m in a depressive daze. Then, I feel a soft, little hand gently touch my arm. I turn to see two sparkling blue eyes looking at me with anticipation. “Mama, can we go play in the front yard?” That sweet baby boy doesn’t care that he didn’t get a bath last night (and would be happy to not get one tonight). He is not concerned about his scrapbook being complete, or that I haven’t made tons of money sewing baby blankets or getting into Oprah’s book club. He wants to do something with me right now.

On the way through the house, I grab my camera. The bright, colorful blooms and the growing sunflowers of the “Secret Garden” are much more pleasant to look that those towering trees of guilt. They fill me with pride and confidence rather than guilt and dread. From now on, I plan spending more time here instead of staring at the pines.

I did plant the portulaca.

I did water the rose bush.

I did show someone a new ab exercise.

I did remember to get the waffles Alice has been asking for.

I did sign up to help with Children’s Church.

I did start a new post for my blog.

I did snap a quick picture of the two most amazing accomplishments of my life.

Wow, this feels so much better than beating my high score on Scramble. Of course, I still may play a game or two, just not eight week’s worth. And the pine trees, they’re not horrible either. I’m just not going to let them loom over me anymore. But if there’s any chance they look like they’re going to fall on our house, those puppies are going down!

It's Okay to Be Sad

One day this week, I had to take Alice home from the park for various reasons, and she was unhappy about it. I was calm, sympathetic to her plight and made promises of the fun things we would do when we got home. It wasn’t working. She felt it was unfair that her brother got to stay, and she began to cry.

That is when I lost it. I began yelling at her to stop crying and be happy. Of course, this made her cry harder, and I got angrier. I even let the F word slip. Not Fart, not Fudge. The F word! I immediately realized how ridiculous I was being and pulled the car over. Taking a deep breath (thank you Yoga!), I calmed myself down. I looked into Alice’s tear-filled eyes and apologized, letting her know I should never have acted that way. I explained, just as much to myself as to her, that I loved her so much and wanted her to be happy, and it made me angry that she wasn’t. Not really knowing what else to say, we drove home in silence.

I would like to say this has been the only time I have yelled at Alice about not being happy, but it isn’t. This time, however, I examined my feelings a little closer. Why did I get so angry when she was unhappy? From infancy, her cries ripped my heart apart. As her mother, I felt total responsibility for her wellbeing. When I couldn’t make things better, it would make me angry. I was failing as a mother.

Fortunately, the silent drive home was long enough for me to realize something else. Why did I think she should always be happy? If she never goes through sadness, frustration, and loss, she can never truly experience joy. This is what the human experience is all about. The ups and downs, the successes and struggles. It is what builds character.

We walked past the “Secret Garden” on the way in the house. Alice noticed that one of the purple snapdragons was shriveled up due to extreme dehydration (oops).

“I don’t think it’s going to make it, baby,” I said.

“Aww.” She frowned, then said, “Let’s water the others now.”

“Good idea!”

There will be more missed play dates and more dead snapdragons. But we’ll face them together and come out stronger in the end.

On this Good Friday, I feel closer to God than ever before. I can’t imagine how He must have felt to watch His Son suffer on the cross. I still don’t understand everything about Him, but I know that the love He feels for you and me is like the love we have for our children, and then some.

Poison

Three a.m. Friday night, I lay sprawled in the living room floor under the fan. More of my body exposed than I was comfortable with, but it was the only relief I could get from the horrid poison ivy rash. All I could do was lay there, pray the prednisone would work quickly, and think.

I thought about the moment I grabbed that vine next to the azaleas. A little voice told me that it was probably poison ivy and to be careful. If only I had listened, I wouldn’t be covered in a nasty, red rash of oozing pustules (lovely!). I wondered, why am I doing this? Who cares what my yard looks like?

Then I thought about this blog. My goal is to be honest about my life, exposing the true me (oozing pustules and all). The moment I post something, I sort of go into a panic mode. Self doubt and worry seep in to my mind, like poison. Will anyone read it? Did I write something that will offend someone? What do I know about “How to Grow a Beautiful Soul,” anyway?

Exposed and uncomfortable, I thought about quitting both. Then that little voice in my head came back. It repeated what I tell my classes. “To grow stronger, you have to get out of your comfort zone. You’ll never run faster or build stronger muscles if you stay where it’s nice and easy.” (Yeah, I don’t get too many smiling faces on that lecture).

Morning came too quickly, and my family was up and ready for a day filled with activity. I was exhausted, itchy and just wanted to vege in front of the TV. I wanted to get comfortable (well, try anyway). But I would miss spending precious time with my husband and kids. It won’t be too long before they are grown up (all three of them, haha!) and I’ll regret lying on the couch “getting comfortable”.

It was a beautiful day, and the kids had a ball riding their bikes in a new place. We stopped at Lowe’s for more yard supplies and Wendy’s for dinner. Staying far, far away from the azalea bushes, Cliff and I planted a few things and hooked up a new hose. I sat down at the edge of our “Secret Garden” (as Alice now calls it, even though it’s smack dab in front of our house). Cliff was close by putting a lamp together and the kids were playing with their watering cans. The warm sun on my skin and the sweet laughter of my family took my mind off all my itching and self doubting. They were the antidotes to my poisons.

Alice skipped across the stones through the newly planted Pink Mandevilla, my sweet little butterfly. She leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I don’t have a favorite thing today.” A question I ask her every night at bedtime. “This whole day is my favorite!”

Who cares what my yard looks like? She does.

Who knows “How to Grow a Beautiful Soul”? God does.

I won’t be quitting anytime soon on either one.

I Need Your Help Clearing the Debris (refer to previous post if you have no idea what I'm talking about)

I thought I was ready to move on to the weeds, but not quite yet. I still have MUCH cleaning up to do. This afternoon, I was raking leaves. Stuffing them into these cheap, thin bags, I carried each one accross the yard, leaving a trail where the bag had ripped open. This was becoming a painfully slow process, and I realized I needed to come up with a better plan. Then I remembered that my neighbor had a wheelbarrow, which she gerenously loaned to me. Soooooo much easier and quicker! Thank you Kristie!

I can be stubborn, sometimes, and insist on doing things my way. Like Ford says, "I do it myself!" But that's not smart. Why wouldn't you use the resources all around you (friends, family, neighbors)? I can't rid myself of these negative, self-defeating, and judgemental thoughts by myself. So, wise, thoughtful and resourceful friends, help me out here. I'd love to hear how you clear the debris from your mind? Books you've read, experiences you have learned from, quotes, whatever. To get us started, I do have one I'd like to share:

Watch your thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions.
Watch your actions, they become habits.
Watch your habits, they become your character.
Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.

Author Unknown (to me, at least)

Can't wait to hear what y'all have to say!

How to Grow a Beautiful Soul (Part One)

This spring, I have taken more interest in our yard. We’ve been here for three years, so it’s time. But it’s such hard work. I’d much rather be on the couch watching Biggest Loser. (Okay, I do see the irony in that.) It’s also confusing to me. My mother-in-law, a Master Gardener, has been patiently teaching me the basics. But to truly understand something, I think you have to jump in and “get your hands dirty.” So, here I go.

So far, I have made one significant discovery. Nurturing a garden is like nurturing your soul. Both take lots of time, hard work and patience. In my quest to grow a beautiful garden, I also hope to grow a beautiful soul. It will be a journey, one I hope you will share with me.

Step One: Clear the Debris.

Our yard is littered with pine cones, sticks, rocks and leaves. If left on the ground, they cover up the grass and prevent the sun, rain and nutrients from getting through to do their jobs. Just the same, negative thoughts litter my mind. They slowly accumulate and crowd out the positive, productive ones. My first step is to get rid of that mess.

Pine Cones:     These things are prickly and hurt my hand when I pick them up. I toss each one in the bucket along with all the negative, self-defeating thoughts that damage my self confidence every day. “I’m so lazy and unorganized” – clunk. “I fail at everything” – clunk. “My butt is too big, my hair is brassy and I have a moustache” – clunk, clunk, clunk. Just like the pine cones, these things hurt. But as I dump the bucket by the road, I smile. I clear away those ugly thoughts and feel the sun shine on my soul.

Sticks and Stones:       As my son plays in the yard, I tell him not to throw rocks. They might hurt someone. I should take my own advice. I throw mental sticks and stones every day. “Why can’t these people learn to drive?” “That outfit is not working for her.” “I am such a better mother than her. My kid isn’t sprawled on the mall floor looking like a scene from the Exorcist (for now, anyway).” These are embarrassing to admit, but they are there all the same.  The pine cones and stones seem to feed off each other. The harder I am on myself, the more I judge others. God says to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Gotta love myself first.

Leaves:            If you don’t get the leaves up, they will matt together and cause mold, toxifying your yard. However, if you crush them up, you can use them as mulch or add to your compost. Some negative thoughts can be changed into positive ones, too. “I’m so lazy” becomes “Get out in the yard and rake those leaves!” And “My butt is too big” can be “Woo Hoo! I got a J.Lo booty!”

Cleaning up the yard is taking much longer than I had hoped. I didn’t realize just how much had accumulated over the years. I know it will take time, especially when I have to stop every few minutes to get someone a snack, put on a Band-Aid or play “throw ball.” But I can already see change, and that’s enough to keep me going.