Crushing Creativity

Although it’s been a bit since my last blog post, I have been up here in Northwest NJ having some Oprah “Ah-ha” moments. I’ve decided to unfurl myself from the fetal position, put on my big girl panties, stop using my creativity as a scapegoat and start being a grown-up.

I’ve realized that I have done more in the last several years to crush my creativity than I have to allow it to flourish. Admittedly, there has been a heck of a lot of fear, distraction, and sheer laziness that has kept me from completing and submitting any written works. Ultimately, though, I finally realize I’ve been crushing creativity at every turn with my habits and my mindset.   

I have been winging it. Successful people don’t wing it. I’ve fooled myself into thinking that this is what creativity likes, spontaneity.

It is a lie.

Deep down I’ve always known this.

Now I am going to own it.

First, I have decided that I will no longer put pressure on my creativity to support me financially. Now that my youngest is in school full time and my oldest is half way to college already, it is time for me to “get a job.” I could shut down. I could lambaste myself and my creativity for failing, for not “becoming a writer,” for not bucking up and paying the bills. Instead, I am telling creativity: “I got this.” I will support you. I will find some way to give you what you need while still helping my family financially.

Second, I have decided that I will no longer use creativity as an excuse. My poor sweet fragile creativity, I have thrown you under the bus more times than either of us can count! I have allowed things to fall by the wayside. I have allowed laundry to pile up. Dust bunnies to multiply. Stacks of papers and books to accumulate on every surface of the house. And creativity has shouldered the blame. That alone is crushing. Never mind, the fact that creativity cannot possibly live in an environment of disorganization and chaos. Instead, I am telling creativity: “I will create a place for you to live.” I will get rid of the clutter and get organized.

Third, I have decided that I will stop wasting my energy, my talents, and my creativity on time-sucking activities. I will schedule my time so that I can proactively pursue my passions instead of reacting to others. Because at the end of every day that I have let myself get sucked in by every distraction imaginable, I only become bitter and resentful. Instead, I am telling creativity: “I will create time for you.” I will start each day pursuing my own goals. I will be intentional with my time. So there is always time for creativity instead of it being an oft-forgotten afterthought.

I am (finally) organizing my life for the sake of my creativity (not in spite of it!).

Because I want to do more than wish on stars, I want to achieve my dreams.

Things Are Just Too Easy Not To Do

We are coming to the end of the second month of 2016. Did you make any resolutions/goals? How are they going?

If you are like most, probably not well.

Why? Why do we make goals for ourselves but never achieve them? Why have I been airing excuses and declaring goals on this very blog for over THREE YEARS?

Of course, we can examine some underlying psychological reasons or maybe we are lazy or maybe truly too busy -- there's a plethora of excuses (years worth).

Maybe it's just that our goals are too easy NOT to do.

It is just too easy to remain content in the status quo, in our comfort zone. Even if the steps to achieve our goals are just as easy TO do. Wait. What? Easy to do AND easy not to do?!

For example, here are some of my own personal goals -- the steps of which are easy to do AND easy not to do:

Get up everyday and exercise.
I know that it is best for me to exercise first thing in the morning before I get distracted by all the daily stuff. And, it really is "easy" to do this even if I am not a morning person. Just set an alarm and drag myself out of bed. If the house was on fire, I could get up. If a kid was vomiting, I could get up. If a baby needed to be nursed, I could get up. But it is soooo easy to hit snooze and tell myself that I will exercise later. I am a stay-at-home mom of school aged kids, after all, I have all the time in the world (ha!). Easy to do/easy not to do.

Eat right.
I know how to eat right. I've always known how to do it. It really isn't that hard for me. But sometimes I find myself mindfully putting junk food in my mouth. Or even taking a third helping of a healthy dinner after I am full. Or, conversely, sometimes just not eating until I am so hungry I don't care what I eat. Easy to do/easy not to do.

Be more organized.
I am just a hot mess when it comes to organization even with all the best intentions. Here are some easy organization steps that I NEVER do (or if I do, it doesn't last long):
*Deal with paperwork immediately -- take the action and chuck the paper, put it in your calendar, register, rsvp, write the check, do the work, file it, etc... So easy to do! Instead, I do the other easy thing: pile the papers and procrastinate. Easy to do/easy not to do.
*Put things in their place -- take your coat off, hang it up. Shoes off, put them away. Use a dish, stick it in the dishwasher. Brush your hair, put the brush away. And so on. Instead I leave things for later. I let things pile up until I am running around spending hours putting it all away. Easy to do/easy not to do.
*Schedule your activities -- I know that if I say from 6-7 I will exercise; then eat breakfast, then feed the kids, then make lunches, then clean the kitchen. Block 9-10 for responding to emails, social networking. Block 10-11 for direct marketing work. From 11-1 for writing. From 1-2 for lunch. From 2-4 for household chores. My day would go smoother if I followed a schedule, I know. But I struggle with that daily, I push things around, I reprioritize, I procrastinate, I get distracted. I get inspired by something (like this blog post) and I forgo all the other items on the list including eating and drinking water (hmm, I'm thirsty). Does it really matter when I do things, after all? Couldn't I write from 6-11; exercise from 11-12 eat breakfast and lunch together from 12-1... Etc... But you can imagine how that goes (see hot mess comment above). Easy to do/easy not to do.

Write more (revise, finish, and submit more).
Writing is really not difficult for me. I don't experience writer's block. If anything I suffer from writer's plethora (too many ideas, can't finish anything). When I sit my butt in a chair, the words come. Is my writing always beautiful? No. Far from it. But I have trouble sitting my butt in the chair (see above about scheduling issues). When I finally do sit down, I rarely do anything with the work. That's where the revise and FINISH come in. Again, I am pretty good at editing. I actually like to edit. Hone words and sentences. It's fun. But I have trouble letting go. Declaring something finished. For instance, when this blog post is published today, I will reread and edit it throughout the day. Crazy, I know. How hard is it to write, edit, finish, and move on? Easy to do/but so easy not to do. Submitting. Ah! That thorn in my side. Submitting short stories is soooo easy these days. Most literary magazines use a website called Submittable in which you type a little cover letter than upload your word doc and done. You can check periodically on the status of all your submissions in a nice list. I have one in there for 2016. And one from 2013. I can't even tell you how many times I have gone in there and just simply not clicked the submit button. Easy to do/easy not to do.

Be more prayerful, mindful, grateful. 
This is a big one because this is so important to me. What's crazy is that it is at the bottom of this list and all to often gets moved to the bottom of the list daily. Because as easy as it is to say a quick prayer. To say a quick word of thanks to yourself, to God, to your loved ones. We get too busy and distracted to do it. How easy it is to mindlessly spend your day doing bullshit tasks that take you away from the very core of who you are? We are all obsessed with being busy, but is it even necessary? Maybe we need to be still -- be prayerful, be mindful, be grateful. Easy to do/easy not to do.

Where is the easy button going to take you in 2016? Is it going to take you towards your goals or away from them? Love to hear from you: comment below, share on Facebook, shoot me a message -- whatever is easiest for you! ;)

Got this whole mind-blowing idea of easy to do/easy not to do by watching some coaching videos by the beautiful Susan Sly. Check out this video to learn more about Susan or head over to Susansly.com.

If you are new to my blog, check out my very first entry written in October of 2012.

Give Me a Sec While I Readjust My Focus

One of my many running mantras is:

Everyone has the time and energy to do what they value the most…

Ultimately, I feel, when we make excuses like “I don’t have time”, or “I’m too busy”, or “I’m too tired”, that it is just another way of saying “It really isn’t important enough for me to make the time.” This is both liberating and restraining because I can tell myself if I really want to do something, I will make time for it but if I haven’t done it then it must not really be that important to me. So if I didn’t make time to write, or exercise, or cook a good meal, or play with my kids, or spend quality time with my husband  –  I guess it means I don’t value those things. Yikes, right?

I have been working on focusing my goals so that at the end of the day I can feel that I put my time towards the things that are important to me. Every day I have been waking up with a positive attitude (or so I thought), telling myself (with a big smile on my face) all the things I am not going to do with my day:  I am not going to waste time; I am not going to be lazy; I am not going to eat junk food; I am not going to lose my patience with the kids, I am not going to be fail at this whole writing thing. At the end of the day I beat myself up over all those things I swore I wasn’t going to do but did anyway. Hmmm. Sounds very negative. I thought because I was happy and smiling, I was being positive…  But, here I am walking around every single day focusing on what I am not going to do, beating myself up for all the things I didn’t do. Every single day I am focusing on the negative. Huh. Who knew?

I recently came across the quote:

What we focus on, we become.

Here I am focusing on all the things I don’t want to be: I don’t want to be a failed writer. I don’t want to be fat. I don’t want to be a bad mom. Why is it at the end of the day, these are the things I feel like I am? It’s the basic law of attraction! It’s like when I tell my son not to hit his brother – what do you think the first thing he does when he’s within striking distance?? Duh. Why would it be any different for me?

It is time to readjust my focus. It’s like I bought a really expensive camera with fancy lenses but have been faking it in point and shoot mode expecting fancy pictures. It’s time to learn how to use my lenses the right way to get the quality pics I want. I need to learn how to focus on the positive, not fake positive focus when I’m really just saying “I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!” then when “I do. I do. I do.” I think “I suck! I suck! I suck!” See how that’s no good?

What I give time to, I value.

What I focus on, I become.

It's not as easy as it sounds! I might need a bit of time. Give me a sec, while I readjust my focus!

In the meantime, here are some other blog entries you might like:

Excuse Me While I Beat Myself Up

No Parking In The Comfort Zone

ISO: Excitement

Excuse Me!

ISO: Excitement

What excites you? Really excites you? Are you doing that thing/those things as often as you can? Are you allowing people to see what truly excites you? Are you inspired by your excitement? Are others inspired by your excitement?

I watched a video the other night on this subject: A 26 year old millionaire bounced around on stage talking about what gets her excited and how to find out what gets each of us excited. When it was over, I couldn't think of a thing that got me THAT excited. Then, as I went to bed and as I woke up in the morning  – I couldn't stop listing the things that get me excited. Jeez no wonder I couldn't find that one thing that makes me passionate – too many things make me passionate! 

I googled it. There are millions of pages on figuring out what excites you most and finding your passion. Why is it that, as I am pushing forty, I am just now trying to discover this?! Where have I been for the last 30-some years?

Am I the only one? Do you know what excites you? Are you doing it?

Some of what excites me seems so far off, so far-fetched, that I think I've just always gone along doing the small little things that make me and, hopefully, those around me fairly content… But excited? I’m not sure. Scary thought as middle-age is knocking on the door! What am I waiting for? Retirement?

In the video I watched the other night, "Establishing your 'Why'," Peta Kelly talks about finding that big thing that excites you but also the little excitements to help inspire you and pull you toward that big goal.

I thought about listing some of the things that excite me – but the list seemed too long for this blog (maybe next week). But, how do I take my “excitement list” and use that to live?

In his TEDx lecture, "How to find and do work you love," Scott Dinsmore asks “What is the work you can’t not do?” For me, it’s always been writing. And, even though I take tiny little steps towards that goal – the big goal, the idea of being a successfully published writer, seems so far-off, so impossible, that I get stuck. I never make my way towards that goal. But maybe it’s because I never allow myself any excitement, any reward, any passion to pull me forward.  There is no fire behind it. There’s no momentum. I need to find little stepping stones of excitement to pull me forward. Otherwise, I am just paralyzed.

Another great article I found in my Google search is: Guide to Finding Your Passion. A guide to narrow those things that excite me down. How to find the thing that I am most passionate about, make goals, identify obstacles, push away the fears and excuses...  (Maybe that’s for another blog too)

What about you? Do you know what excites you and are you doing it?

No Parking In The Comfort Zone

There is something to be said for the comfort zone – it is, umm, comfortable. I suppose we could all live our lives comfortable in it. Not that we would be lazy, the comfort zone can be pretty busy, hectic at times – with the cleaning, the laundry, the errands, work, volunteering, family, vacations, etc. A life inside the comfort zone could be a full and happy one. But, is that the life we are meant to live?

If there was a “No Parking” sign posted on our comfort zone, could we have reached a higher potential? Is there a life we are meant to live outside the comfort zone?

I recently came across this quote (on a friend’s fridge):

“Life Begins At The End of Your Comfort Zone”
~ Neale Donald Walsch

This friend recently left her own comfort zone – her job, her apartment, her life – and moved to another part of the state to begin a physical therapy program. She took a leap of faith and left her comfort zone to answer a calling rather than sit back and ignore it.

Is there a calling that we are afraid to answer whilst sitting comfortable in the zone?

I would like to say that I am finally answering the call to be a writer. But, my writing life is going along happily in its own comfort zone right now. Being a comfortable drawer writer eliminates all stress and obligation from the process (writing something and hiding it in my drawer). Writing something, revising it, submitting it somewhere – that is way out of the comfort zone I am currently parked in. The draft for my NaNoWriMo novel, for example, I have picked up a half a dozen times since November but never really accomplish anything noteworthy. What’s the rush, really, when you are in a comfort zone and no one is threatening to tow you?

And this inability to reach beyond the comfort zone stretches into many areas of life – relationships, physical activity, and diet. We can allow ourselves to get into cycles that keep us from ever really experiencing life to its capacity.

As a married woman with three children approaching 40, I was OK with the way I look, my physical activity, my diet. Sure, I kinda wish I looked a little better in a two piece bathing suit. I kinda wish I could run any amount of distance without wanting to pass out. Maybe it would be nice to have a little more energy without relying on coffee loaded with cream and sugar.

A few weeks back I decided to listen to another friend and try out a nutritional cleansing program she recommends. And I am wondering why in the heck I didn’t try it sooner! It’s like going from Good to Great – I feel great (and 10 days in I lost 6 lbs and over 9 inches)! I didn’t even know it was possible!

I am trying to detoxify my body inside and out – go beyond just OK to the best I can be…

What about you? Are you parked in a comfort zone? Can you do something today to push yourself outside comfortable to the best you possible?

Spring is approaching. It is time to wake up and move out of the comfort zone. Take some chances. Do something differently. Get out of the rut and live to our fullest potential.

Who’s with me?!

(If you want to know more about the nutritional cleansing program I am on, shoot me an email – we can do it together!)

Did I Really Just Say That? #Thingsmomssay

As a mom, words come out of my mouth that I never imagined myself saying. Almost daily. And in many cases whom I am saying it to can be surprising (and disturbing). Here are some examples. Feel free to throw in some guesses as to whom I am speaking to – the dog, my son(s), my daughter, or my husband. The answer may surprise (or disturb) you.

1. Please do not pee on the toilet seat.
2. Please do not go to the bathroom in the basement.
3. Please do not go to the bathroom in the trash can.
4. Please do not go to the bathroom in the heating vent.
5. Please do not pee on me.
6. Please do not throw up on the living room carpet.
7. Please throw up outside.
8. Please go to the bathroom outside.
9. Please stop chewing on your toe nails.
10. Please get your finger out of your nose.
11. Please get your finger out of the dog’s ear.
12. Please do not rub your boogers on me.
13. Please do not flick boogers in my car.
14. Please stop licking your plate.
15. Please stop burping at the kitchen table.
16. Please stop farting at the kitchen table.
17. Please stop drooling all over my house.
18. Please do not spit on the floor.
19. Please do not drool on my pillow.
20. Please get your butt off my pillow.
21. Please do not rub your naked butt on my bed.
22. Please wear underwear (preferably clean).
23. Please do not re-wear your dirty socks.
24. Please use your own toothbrush.
25. Please do not kiss me so passionately.
26. Please do not touch my boobs.
27. Please do not rub my butt.
28. Please stop snoring in my face.
29. Please do not lick the car.
30. Please do not lick your sibling.
31. Please do not lick the dog’s tongue.
32. Please do not eat off the floor.
33. Please do not eat random food found in random places.
34. Please do not drink that, it’s been sitting out all day.
35. Please do not eat that onion like an apple.

These adorable kids couldn't possibly be responsible for any of the above grossness, could they?

Lice PTSD For The Holidays

Ahhh. It’s the New Year. The Holidays are over and the kids are back in school. It’s time to sit back and reflect on the previous year, and make plans for the new one. As I reflect on this past Holiday season I realize that I may be suffering from a mental illness I will name “Lice Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

Are you worried you may have suffered from Lice PTSD this past holiday season too? The first step is to recognize the signs, then seek treatment (although what the treatment is, I’m not sure. Maybe a Xanax? A stiff drink?).
 

Signs you suffered from Lice PTSD over the Holidays:

• All holiday guests were given a wet comb through before entering your house (because you know that the best way to find those fast little buggers is by dousing them with conditioner and combing the hair with a nit-pick).
• Your new found head lice knowledge was the go-to conversation starter at all holiday functions. For instance, did you know… Head lice will not infest your home the way fleas or bed bugs can (they only live about 24-48 off of a host); lice is generally spread from head-to-head contact; lice reproduce sexually with mating lasting an hour; a female louse will lay around 6 to 10 eggs per day after mating once; a louse can hold its breath for up to 8 hours.
• You correctly identified this picture as a male head louse:
  
  

  

  "Male human head louse" by Gilles San Martin - originally posted to Flickr. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:
  Male_human_head_louse.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Male_human_head_louse.jpg

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• You treated, nit-picked, and checked your head daily for lice but it would not stop itching. Finally, during a Google search you found a condition that you were convinced you had. Upon further investigation, you discovered that it is a psychosomatic condition. You regret including the diagnosis on your year-end newsletter.
• When making your Christmas cards, you note the family pictures before lice (heads touching) and after lice (heads as far away as possible).
• Family members began to avoid sitting near you because you were known to shriek “no touching heads!” every time you saw two young cousins with their heads close together. On one occasion you were seen elbowing grandma and pole-vaulting over Aunt Ethel to separate your daughter and her cousin quietly playing Barbies in the corner.
• You replaced all brushes in your house with nit combs which you store in individual zip-lock bags in the freezer even at your mother’s house next to the turkey.
• You sported the Sinead O’Connor in all holiday pictures.
• When reading 'Twas Night Before Christmas to the children you recited: “not a creature was stirring, not even a louse” as a little prayer.
• Before leaving your in-laws, you quietly put all pillows and cushions in trash bags on the back porch and told them to keep them there for a few days just in case.
• You have decided to homeschool instead of sending your kids back to school after the holiday break.

And, the number one sign you may have suffered from lice PTSD this holiday season:

• You composed a blog about it.

I wish you a lice-free 2015! Please share if you or someone you love may be suffering from Lice PTSD…

There Is A Louse In My House #drasticmeasures #amNOTwriting

I've been behind on my NaNoWriMo word count but nothing a few word sprints couldn't solve… But, when you have three children, you never know what surprises might keep you from your plans. This time, it was lice.

Remember my blog post a while back titled "I Wasn't Prepared for THIS!"? Well, add lice to the list of things I did not think of when my children were just a twinkle in my eye. More specifically, the idea that I, at 38 years old, would be experiencing my first case of head lice.

For all of you out there who have not had the wonderful experience of head lice in 2014 – it is not like in the 80s when a treatment of Nix would knock those suckers, eggs and all, out of the park. No, those of us inclined to put pesticides in our hair will soon learn that these lice are immune to it. So, in a word, it’s useless. A fine tooth comb and some time (HOURS A DAY) to sift through your hair is really the only sure fire way. There are natural alternative on the market (like Fairytale Goodbye Lice), and certain shampoos (like Coal Tar Shampoo), certain conditioners (like Suave Coconut Conditioner), and good ol' fashion home remedies (like mayonnaise and saran wrap), plus blow drying and flat ironing. Ultimately, though, you still have to sit and pick those suckers out with a comb every single day. Which I've been doing. Not to mention all the laundry which is a completely separate blog post for me because as some of you know I have been using a Laundromat since March even though I have a fancy washer and dryer in my basement (we have gas/propane/plumbing issues that are going to be solved “any day now”).

Anywho, my excuse for not writing this week thus far is that I have been busy de-lousing. Going  slightly crazy as one does when fear of infestation takes over. One might say I went a little more than slightly crazy when I was alone picking through my long locks, imagining the lice taunting me like the mucus guy in those commercials: "We’re setting up shop in here! You’ll never find us in all these tangles!” That’s when I found myself reaching for the scissors….

Drastic times call for drastic measures

 Take that you lousy louse!

I have to admit it looks cute in a it-looks-like-you-cut-your-own-hair kind of way... More pictures to come (after I find a proper hair dresser to fix it and give me a good dye job). Now off to write (after another trip to the laundromat).

I Want To Be Braver Than Katniss #MockingJay

It’s hard to deny that kick-ass Katniss Everdeen is brave. And we can all fantasize that if the fate of the world rested in our hands, we’d kick-ass too. But I want to be brave in the real world. Braver than even Katniss Everdeen. 

In her everyday life, Katniss wasn't all that brave. She didn't have the courage to talk to the boy that gave her the bread. She might have snuck out to go hunting with Gale, but never had the courage to explore any feelings she had for him beyond friendship. She wasn't brave enough to confront her mother about the things that were bothering her. She wasn't brave enough to step out of her comfort zone and make friends at school. Until her sister’s name was called at the reaping, she did not show much bravery. And after that, much of what she did was just a reaction to what was happening to her. 

In my NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) prep, I did some exercises from the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook by Donald Maass. One of the exercises is to think of a real life hero and the qualities of him/her that you admire. Since my protagonist is a teenager, I tried to think of a teenager I admire. I came up with a young lady from Pitman New Jersey named Katelyn Darrow. When Katelyn was just 12 years old she started a program called Angels of God Clothing Closet to helps families in crisis (such as after a house fire) get some essentials to help keep them going. Katelyn saw a need in the community and was brave enough to fill it. Five years later, Katelyn’s Angels of God Clothing Closet continues to live up to their mission of helping disadvantaged people and relieve financial stress by providing clothing, toiletries, food and more to those in need at no cost to them through their store-front location and also through school supply drives, holiday gift giving, costume donations, etc. Katelyn also works in the community and beyond speaking to groups, scouts, schools. She has won awards and was even on the Steve Harvey show last month.

I met Katelyn last year during her monthly Kids on a Quest meeting in which she shows kids how they can help in their community. Not only is she brave enough to do extraordinary things but she is also 100 % relatable – she is sweet and down to earth. She talked to the kids about normal stuff too – swim team, friends, the homecoming dance. That is the kind of hero I admire. Someone who is ordinary and relatable while having the bravery to do extraordinary things in everyday life.

I wish I had that courage when I was her age. I wish I had that courage now. That is the kind of bravery I want my protagonist to have (in addition to some kick-ass Katniss bravery).

Learn more about Angels of God Clothing Closet including ways you can help at: http://www.angelsofgod.org/help/donate.html

And, in case you've missed the trailer demonstrating some of Katniss’s kick-ass bravery in the upcoming MockingJay movie, check it out at:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_Tsj_wTJkQ

Are you braver than Katniss Everdeen? Do you know someone that is?

I Am Not Meant For This!

     After I put my youngest on the bus, I surveyed the disaster that my children left in their wake, got down on my knees and cried out “I am not meant for this sh$t!” Then my dog put his stinky muzzle in my face, licked the lone tear, and hacked something on my cheek.

    Hopefully, it was the lack of sleep that made me question the 10 years I have spent doing exactly this shit. See, the night before my husband and I were sleeping in our usual positions – on opposite edges of the mattress with our five year old sprawled perpendicular between us – when our son wakes us with the declaration, “I peed myself.” We dutifully sent him off to change and wash his hands while we inched further away from the middle lest the pee touch us whispering blame: Did you make sure he peed before bed? Did you let him have something to drink before bed? You have to actually watch him pee because he lies. Maybe you shouldn't have given him that fourth juice box. The boy returned, crawled into my arms and fell back asleep cradled over the edge of the bed. Me, watching the clock until it was time to go downstairs and make breakfast and lunches, dreading the choices: cereal is processed and has too much sugar; oatmeal but not the instant because that too is processed and has too much sugar; or eggs but only the free range ones from a local farm otherwise the chickens most likely were caged up cannibals injected with antibiotics and hormones. And, for lunch: do I use whole wheat bread or does that have too much gluten? Am I allowed to use peanut butter or is the kid sitting next to my daughter going to go into anaphylactic shock? How about hazelnut, is that actually a nut? 

     Sleep deprivation aside, if I am not meant to do this shit, what am I meant to do? And, why is it that I can’t seem to manage to do the same shit that women were doing for centuries before me? What is my excuse? 

     Logically, I can blame my mother. Maybe she, in the post-feminist world, didn't feel it necessary to prepare me for this shit so logically when I am faced with the conundrums: how do I make this from scratch; how do I iron that; how do I sew this; how do I clean that? The answer is: I don’t f'ing know. And neither does she! So maybe that means I blame her mother or her mother’s mother. Maybe for generations women have been whispering into their baby girls' ears: “You are not meant for this shit.” 

     Now what? Who’s going to do this shit? Are we turning into a generation of stay at home moms that send their two year olds to school because we don’t know what to do with them; send the laundry and the mending out; hire cleaning ladies; cook all our meals with a box, 2 cups of water and a microwave? And, if we absolve ourselves from all activities that were once meant for women, do we then absolve our husbands – are they no longer obligated to fix our cars; mow our lawns; pay our bills? And, if so, what are we all going to do – sit around watching Netflix? Piddling around with novels while really just reading articles posted to Facebook?

     Maybe we just have too much shit to do. Do our kids really have to wear something cute and unique every single day? Does that cute outfit then have to immediately be stain-treated, washed, and folded neatly in the drawer with 20 other cute and unique outfits? Do they have to be in every sport offered per season plus piano lessons, art classes, and Sunday school? Do we have to seek out BFFs for them and make sure to jam-pack free time with playdates so they never feel unpopular at school? 

     Or, maybe, I really am just tired. Maybe I’ll change the pee sheets, take a nap, take a shower, bake those homemade sugar-free, gluten-free, peanut-free muffins I found on Pinterest and feel like supermom by the time the kindergarten bus rolls in... (Or, search for the recipe, get distracted by an article about the Kardashian's until my son's school bus is sitting out front honking at me.).

Distracted By Facebook Again. Why? Oh why Facebook?

I sat down to write last night. Yay me. Yay to my husband who offered to get the kids ready for bed. But, as often happens when I sit down to write and fail to turn the Internet off – I found myself getting distracted. I just had to google this or that important bit of information and before I knew it I was typing that little F word into the address line.

You know what I’m talking about. It’s likely what brought you here today. Facebook. Ahh, Facebook. That time suck we love to hate. Some days I am ready to give it up. But then who would read my blogs? How would I know when people had babies, went to Disney, got married, got divorced?? How would I know what celebrity died? Or had a baby, went to Disney, got married or got a divorce? So, instead of quitting Facebook, I’ll just post this “Facebook rant blog.”

I just don’t understand what we are doing on Facebook! Why we are spending so much of our precious time here? Why? Why Facebook users? Why?

Why do you feel the need to post every single article in existence on one subject? (And why do I click like even if I haven’t read the article!?)
We get it: You don’t vaccinate your children; you hate common core; Kraft foods is the new Phillip Morris; you love Jesus; guns are bad; you want to save all animals, plastic causes cancer.

Why do you share the same picture of a woman in old fashioned clothing slumped over her sofa with a different witty saying? (And why do I like it every time!?)
We get it: You hate doing laundry; you wish you had wine; your children don’t listen to you; your husband is an idiot; you love coffee.

Why do I need to see a picture of you with a plunging neckline hanging over someone different every time you have a “Girls Night Out”?
We get it: You look hot when you’re not wearing mom jeans; you are cool; you know how to have a good time; you have lots of friends.

Why do I need to see a picture of every purchase you make? Your house? Your vacation home? Your car? Your kid's 10th American Girl doll?
We get it: You have a job, you have money, you like to buy nice things.

Why is it you ONLY post on Facebook when you go on exotic vacations?
We get it: You are better than the rest of us daily Facebook hacks but we should still be jealous of your family vacation to Hawaii, or the Greek Islands, or Disney for the umpteenth time this year.

Why do I need to know every single time-suck you partake in?
We get it: You play Candy Crush, Words with Friends, and Farmville: you have the personality similar to Princess Ariel, a farmer, a person from the 1960s and an Irish sailor; you write a witty blog; you really want to win organic food for a year, a Disney cruise, or a trip to Legoland.

Why do I need to hear how much you love your bestie, your boyfriend, your husband, or your kids?
We get it: You know how to appreciate the people you love. But seriously, you are going to be hating on them tomorrow so why waste my time today?

And, finally, why do you need to post things just to make other people feel bad?
We get it: You are organized, you are crafty, you bake pretty cupcakes, you never yell at your kids while the rest of us saps suck at all those things.

And I suck because I do some or all of the above things too. I get it. But really I’m just trying to make you laugh while venting ;) Have a fabulous Facebook day!

Oh, and here is my "we get it: you are a great mom, you do stuff with your kids" selfie:

Boxes For Books

My last post for this blog was November 14th while I was happily up to my elbows in NaNoWriMo. One might think that I have been so busy writing and subsequently editing that I haven’t had a single excuse to share. I wish that were true. Unfortunately, the reverse is true: Excuses abound! My husband took a new job and I had to switch gears and focus on moving. In short, I had to exchange my book for boxes.

The New Year is in full swing and I have not focused on a single writing resolution instead I have focused on housing to-do lists. We have been very fortunate in this market, though, and we are almost at the end of our journey. In exactly three weeks’ time I will be watching the mover’s load our belongings on to a truck. I am sad to leave here only two short years after moving, but I am also excited by the new possibilities this move represents.

And I am excited to get back into a writing routine – to finish the work that I’ve started. Over the last couple of years, I have unleashed my wild writerly mind and it is not happy to be caged while I am busy with other things.

I have given my brain very little time to think creatively unless staging a home counts. I look forward to getting back to my novel, getting back to this blog – getting back to writing.

More to come in 2014! Until then, I’m going to work on my moving to-do lists!

The Week That Wasn’t

Apparently Fall is emerging all around me: the temperature is dropping; the trees are changing colors; and Halloween is fast approaching. Last week I missed Fall unfolding itself right in front of me because I was in my own world. A world where corporations suspend production, where hundreds of jobs are lost, where resumes are updated, and words like “relocation” are thrown around. This is a world I had no intention of being in but there I was – life is fun like that.

I tell myself not to stress about things I can’t control. I tell myself things will work out the way they are supposed to. And I believe it, too. I know that our family will survive the closing of my husband’s workplace. That he will find another job in the area quickly and we won’t have to move. Or, maybe, there will be a company that swoops in at the last second to purchase the plant and continue production.

There is nothing I can do, really, except help my husband update his resume.  My life pretty much stays the same for the moment – I still have the same chores, the same laundry, and the same ever-surmounting to-do list. Therefore, the only logical thing for me to do with my time is to imagine how things will play out. To research the state, the city, the school district, the neighborhood, and the very house that we could live in.

So while things were piling up all around me like the fall leaves outside, I was busy playing with the Realtor app on my phone. Not the best use of my time, but it was cathartic and kind of fun….

It was almost like last week didn't even exist. Last week was the week that wasn't. So, back to reality this week! Back to using my time productively (or at least trying to). Back to using my imagination to write stories (since that’s my goal, right?)! Failing that, I have a new book to read – Allegiant (Divergent Trilogy)comes out today – yay!

Kindness Confession

I hoard kindness like a skilled card player – I put on my poker face and keep it close to my chest. I play my other cards more freely – sarcasm, whit, frustration, outrage, bias, indifference – I throw them out there whenever I want. But kindness needs to be played more strategically; when you play that card says a lot about you:

Play the kindness-card too soon, you’re too nice/boring/desperate. Play it at the wrong time, you've overstepped your boundaries. Play it too often, you’re clearly naive. Play it on the wrong person, you’re stupid. Play it on the undeserving, you’re gullible. Play it on a foe, you’re a coward.

Why? Why would I allow all my insecurities, prejudices and preconceived notions hinder me from simply being kind? Why would I stop myself from even smiling and saying hello to someone? At the end of it all am I going to rip the kindness card from my grip, hold it up high and declare, “Look! Look how much kindness I saved until the end!”? Certainly not. No, I will regret all the chances for kindness I missed and all the times I was outright unkind.

I knew there’d be a Bible verse on kindness, since that was kind of Jesus’ thing. So, even though I am not the bible-versing type, I decided to Google it. The verse I like best actually comes from the Old Testament, Proverbs 3:3 (being wise was Solomon’s thing):

          “Don't ever forget kindness and truth. Wear them like a necklace. Write them on your heart as if on a tablet.”

The signature line of an email I received recently contained a quote:

          “Be kinder than necessary…”

What wise words! What a wonderful way to live. Not just be kind – but be kinder than necessary.

I think I feel a new mantra coming on….

It's In My Purse

Hello my dear brave blog readers. Today I am going to take you to a place few dare to go. A place even my husband refuses to enter (for fear he may put his hand into a half-eaten jelly sandwich, pulverized goldfish, or an unwrapped tampon). I am going to take you into my pocket book. Please take appropriate precautions – rubber gloves, hazmat suit, etc….

See, it is time to change purses. And, in the spirit of self-deprecating and humorous excuse-airing I have decided to share this momentous occasion with you. Because, dare I say it, my pocket book is probably some metaphor for my life although, lucky for you, I’m not really going to analyze the meaning now. Instead, I’m just gonna dump it out here on the table so you can have a good laugh at my expense:

1. A church bulletin. 
2. 2 sided 8 x 11 florescent green sheet on Daniel 4 and King Nebuchadnezzar’s pathway from pride of self to praise of God and how we too can do this. 
3. A Thank you card.
4. A receipt for Marshall’s.
5. A letter from my son’s preschool dated May 23rd. 
6. 3 ripped ticket stubs for dance recital dated May 25th and the envelope for the tickets.
7. 5 x 7 of my daughter that I purchased at her dance recital.
8. 2 loose Express gift cards I received on Mother’s Day and the two card holders they came on.
9. Business cards for my local moms club as well as my own personal business cards. 
10. My cellphone.
11. My wallet.
12. Two of my children’s wallets.
13. A wallet containing all my shoppers-club cards.
14. My camera.
15. My Kindle.
16. Large book light received as a free gift from Writer’s Digest books circa 1999.  
17. 1 used tissue. 2 pieces of toilet paper. And one questionable paper towel.
18. 2 almost-dry Sharpies.
19. 1 yellow highlighter and 1 uncapped blue highlighter.
20. 2 pens, 1 dissembled pen and 2 pencils.
21. My daughter’s inhalers.
22. A Pepcid tablet for my dog.
23. A travel toothbrush.
24. Hand sanitizer.
25. Sunglasses.
26. A pony tail holder.
27. An 80 piece bag of gum.
28. A bank lollipop.
29. And the trash from 2 lollipops, 1 piece of gum, and a granola bar.
30. My car keys.
31. Some sort of doohickey that I keep forgetting to ask the kids if they know what it belongs to.

There you have it folks, a quick peek into my scatter-brain disorganized world. In the interest of full disclosure, I will have you know that I cleaned out my purse last Saturday between Acts at my daughter’s recital.

It’s How I Was Raised

The other day I was folding laundry and watching General Hospital (a guilty pleasure I allow myself a few times a month) when it hit me: I know what’s wrong with our society – we were all raised on soap operas!

What? Not you? Oh, come on, you didn’t rush home from school and sit down with your mom and watch One Life to Live followed by General Hospital followed by Oprah? You don’t know characters and plotlines of All My Children, Days of Our Lives, One Life to Live, General Hospital, and Guiding Light? How about Dallas? You don’t know who shot (or didn’t shoot) JR? Your eyes don’t well up when you think of Phillip and Beth? How about Frisco and Felicia?

Fine it’s just me then (even though I think you are about as deceptive as Lucy Coe Jones or Tina Lord Roberts or maybe Sami Brady!).

Everything I know in life, I learned from Soap Operas:

1. No death is final. 
If your husband dies, chances are that he will come back to life after you've fallen in love with the person who killed him. He will look like an entirely different person because he had to have extensive reconstructive surgery. He was gone for three years because had amnesia and was living a double life on some island. When you've left his killer to reunite with him, a daughter that he fathered in those years he was gone will appear as a voluptuous teenager bent on destroying your marriage and reuniting him with her mother but instead she’ll marry your son from a previous marriage which will very likely result in pregnancy.

2. One night stands always result in pregnancy. 
If there is someone you hate, you will be trapped somewhere with that person until you two sleep together. This one-time encounter will result in a pregnancy. Your best friend will be pregnant at the same time. You both will go into labor in a remote cabin somewhere but only one child will survive. This child will be switched at birth which will be discovered some months later.

3. Children raise themselves.
No matter how many children you have, you will never be responsible for their upbringing because this child will only be seen as an infant. A few years later, the child will return as a high school student dealing with some moral dilemma. You will then be able to demonstrate your great parental prowess by helping said child through the crisis. The crisis will probably somehow result in pregnancy, making you a grandparent at the age of 35.

4. Bad guys have a heart of gold.
Every town must contain a bad guy you love to hate or you hate to love. He will be a sexy stranger that sweeps you off your feet, professes his undying love to you and swears off his life of crime. Don’t stand too close to him, though, because very likely his arch-enemy will try to kill him but you’ll get in the cross fire.  

5. If multiple people are in the same location, a disaster will occur.
If you are on a train with many people you know the train is certain to derail. On a bus, it will drive off a cliff. In a car, it likely contains a bomb. If you are at a charity event, very likely all attendees will be held hostage. In a warehouse, clearly it will catch fire and explode. At dinner in the same restaurant, drive-by shooting.

I could go on but I think there is a General Hospital marathon on SoapNet I must DVR.

I Am What I Do

I embrace resolutions. So much so that I've been holding onto the same ones for some 10, 15, or 20 years now! The intentions are always there but the excuses get in the way. All I am left with is a pile of intentions and excuses; everything I thought held value is gone. This is certainly not how I thought I’d live my life but somehow it seems like many of us do, don’t we?

Recently, I thought I’d focus on one mantra per year. Last year, my mantra was “I Will Make Writing My Career This Year.” While writing hasn't become my career in that I haven’t made any money, I have written much more this year than any of the years prior. If I could only shut off that ever-looming excuse, self-doubt, then I think I could go even farther this year.

I will not let my excuses become me. This year, I banish the excuses. I will put them out there for you to read, to ponder, to laugh at, and to enjoy but then they are gone – outta here!

My mantra this year is:

I Am What I Do,
Not What I Mean
In Twenty-Thirteen!

I will do what I intend to do and stop wasting time on what has no value to me because, in the end, it’s your actions not your intentions that show who you are, right? We judge others by their actions yet we judge ourselves by our intentions.

What I want to DO this year hasn't really changed much from past years but this year I will be more mindful of how I am spending my minutes and of how my actions and words are representing me.



What will you do this year? You Are What You Do, Not What You Mean [To Do] in Twenty-Thirteen!

Excuse Me!

I recently had a melanoma scare (in my head). And, quite frankly, melanoma still hasn’t been ruled out since I have yet to see the doctor (no time). During this frightening half hour I came to the realization that I could die soon. A trip to the doctor for an atypical mole that turns out to be melanoma that has spread to the lungs (my college friends KNEW I’d die of lung cancer!).

You are supposed to laugh. But, while you’re laughing I am defending myself saying “It happens!” Bob Marley died at the age of 36 of melanoma that spread to his brain. Who knew? And - are you kidding me? 36! Look at his legacy! I’m 36! What is my legacy? Sure, I have 3 kids. But what am I teaching them? To say please and thank you (some of the time); to look both ways when you cross the street (1/2 the time); to cover your mouth when you sneeze (most of the time); to wash your hands (almost all the time)?

If I go to the doctor next month and am told I have melanoma that has spread and I’m going to die in 1 year, what would great wisdoms would I want to teach my children before I go? What will they remember of me (that I yelled all the time? That I spent too much time on the computer?)?

As a wannabe writer - what do I have to show the world when I’m gone? A bunch of crappy ½ written stories and novels that my sisters (probably not my husband) will read as they throw them in the recycling bin? And, if I had 1 year to live would I spend that time writing the great American novel? Doubtful. Why? I really don’t even know – I have hundreds of excuses. I’m sure I’ve got at least one excuse each day!

You know what, though, I don’t think I’m much different than anyone in America. No different than you reading this blog (shouldn’t you be doing dishes?). Are these excuses keeping us from living a fulfilled life? (Who really cares about those dishes in the sink anyways?) Are excuses keeping us from achieving the American dream? What is that dream these days? And, does it even matter if we are happy with our excuses?

                There you have it the birth of my blog, 365 Excuses. One woman’s reasons why I may or may not be living a fulfilled life. Excuses for why I may or may not ever be a published writer. Excuses for why I have a sink full of dishes, a sticky kitchen floor, and 3 laundry baskets of clean unfolded laundry. While we are at it – the excuse for why there is cereal on the floor (my 6 year old had to get his own breakfast because Mommy was writing her blog).

                While we are being honest, it will be more like “52 Excuses.”

                Hope you enjoy!