Trekking Through the Blizzard

Until yesterday, I didn’t know what the official definition of a blizzard was, but it is a storm that not only includes snow but “winds in excess of 35 mph…for at least three hours.” I learned that because our local weatherperson was explaining it…because we were in the throes of a blizzard.

 

walk in the park
These photos have been brightened for aesthetic purposes. It was really much grayer than this.

 

Sounds like perfect sledding weather, no? I figured it was. With my son’s friends gone for the day and my husband busy dealing with a deadline, I thought a little one-on-one snow fun with my kid was a great idea. So my son and I bundled up and headed out for the sled hill that is a little over a half a mile from our house.

Um…they’re not kidding about the wind. It was bitter, and we couldn’t see all that much.

It had snowed nearly a foot by then, so we were trudging through snow that was close to our knees.

 

lake snow

 

At about the halfway point we paused to catch our breath and looked at each other. The hill was off in the gray distance, and we could hardly hold our gaze toward it with the wind slapping at our eyes. Before we set out, we had agreed that if either of us wanted to turn back, that would be just fine. No pressure. But now I looked at my son and said, “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t come this far not to go down that hill at least once.”

So much for no pressure. Luckily, my kid was of the same mind. “Oh, no way, Mom…we’re doing it.”

And on we trudged.

I led the way, head tucked down but with an eye toward our next steps. After a quiet stretch of plodding along, I stopped and said to my son, “Man, walking through that deep of snow was tough.”

“Nah, it wasn’t too bad. I was walking in your footsteps, so I was okay.”

 

footsteps_2

 

And in that moment—even with the wind whipping and the snow blowing—I couldn’t help but be struck by his words.

It was a perfect crystallization of what an important part of parenting is to me. Leading the way, and in doing so, helping our kids to follow without the same amount of struggle.

 

wiped out_2

 

Mind you, I didn’t say a crystallization of all of parenting—just a part. Because I don’t believe the role of a parent is simply to make things easier for our kids. Between our schedules revolving around them, and their being awarded trophies for simply breathing—this generation is feeling pretty good about their place in the world.

No—sometimes struggling in the exact way that we do is also a powerful and necessary lesson.

Earlier in the day, my son experienced that very thing. My husband and I are so used to being the “doers” that we often forget to have our son share in the doing, as well. With the unrelenting snow, there was plenty to shovel—and our kid was out there learning that you gotta do what you gotta do…and then do it all over again. He did a great job, and not only did he better understand the hard work involved in such a task, but he had a little pride surveying his work.

 

shoveler

 

For me, the blizzard brought great examples of two key aspects of what any kind of nurturing relationship should be. Sometimes you pave the way to help the person along, and sometimes all you need to do is give them the tools to take care of it on their own.

…And we did make it to the hill.

 

this is how gray it really was without brightening the photos
this is how gray it really was without brightening the photos

 

And we did go down it a bunch of times.

 

king of the hill

 

And I was wise enough to avoid using my son’s snowboard.

 

snowboard

 

And we were exhausted by the time we got home.

 

snow man

 

…And I would do it all over again.

 

two fools

 

All photos are my own.
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He’s Beyond Me

drumEquipping for our obsolescence…isn’t that the main role of a parent? Parents strive to prepare their kids to be healthy, independent members of society. Our success means…they don’t need us anymore.

As the mom of a ten-year-old, I am obviously not there yet. Just getting him to butter his toast without showering crumbs into the stratosphere is a challenge. But I do already see flashes of the future man he will be.

When I see his caring touch with younger kids—even as an “only” not able to experience younger siblings—I see the loving dad he one day may become.

And when I see him calculate math problems that already make my eyes cross, I see the complex problem solver evolving who one day will be able to tackle the difficult issues that come his way.

Even though he’s only ten, I already see that he is beyond me in some ways, and it is both a scary and amazingly wonderful feeling.

With the math, it’s mostly because I’m more than a little bit rusty on the work he is doing, and it never came easy to me in the first place. Thankfully, I am blessed with a math-minded spouse, so I am able to say, “Go ask your dad,” but if I needed to, I’m relatively sure that I could reawaken that part of my brain and help him out. (Right?)

But there is one part of his world that he is already clearly beyond me, and it touches my heart deeply.

 

piano

 

I love music, but I don’t play an instrument. If you remember my history of faking the flute, you know I greatly respect musicians and wish I had the ability. So much so that I did try piano lessons as an adult, but after reaching the heights of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,” I knew it was time to turn in the keys. Between needing my hands to move independently of one another and follow the music, the spaz in me just couldn’t keep up. And when my beloved piano teacher added the foot pedal, well…I think I simply combusted internally.

But my kid gets it.

He is learning both the piano and drums (talk about needing to coordinate independent movements!), and he gets it.

He’s beyond me…and I love it.

 

sheet

 

Hearing him play makes my heart smile. It’s like he knows a language that I never will, and though I wish I did know it, the fact that he does…well, it’s just beautiful. A wonderful, infinite world is open to him, and it brings me great joy.

Seeing my child surpass me in something is really what it’s all about. It is just the first of many aspects of life that he will transcend my abilities and excel as the person he is—someone who is blessed by God to have an array of gifts and talents all his own. Seeing that blossom for anyone is fascinating, but when it’s my own kid, it’s enthralling.

Though right now he is still every bit a ten-year-old boy who giggles at farts and drives me crazy with his lack of focus, when I hear him play, I know that there is so much more in store for him.

 

sculpture

 

One day…I will no longer need to remind him to wipe the peanut butter off of his face.

Lord willing, I will be around to look back and recall this time with great fondness—much the way I do now when I think about his first steps or his chubby baby cheeks. I need to cherish it all because I can see that time is marching on with determination.

Some days it’s harder for me than others to remember to embrace the joys of the age while striving to equip for the future, but I am grateful for it all.

What a wonderful journey I get to be a part of. I need to keep that in mind when the crumbs are flying, the homework assignment is missing, and I am telling him for the 17th time to get into the shower.

Maybe I should just make him play a song for me. That might just do the trick.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

PS–Our world would be so incomplete and sad without the beauty of the arts to enrich our lives and help us to express ourselves in ways that science alone cannot. We need to fight for all kids to learn, experience, and grow in the arts. Please support art programs in public schools!

PPS–This is the 100th post of The Juggle Struggle. Thank you for coming along with me on this journey! Whether you are a first time reader or a long-time subscriber or follower, I greatly appreciate your taking some of your precious time to read my words…it means the world to me. And I hope you find it worth sticking around for more!

The “Yo” Man

hourglassI’m never enough. Each day passes and I feel I have not been enough in any aspect of my life. I could have done more as mother, wife, friend, daughter, sister, worker, writer…even pet owner.

Even though my days are consumed with doing, I feel like I should have done more. The “shoulds” are never-ending.

I’m thinking you might be nodding your head in understanding.

Life can be overwhelming—some days more so than others. But it is during those overwhelming times that I try hard to step outside myself and remember that just a little can go a long way.

 

Moments count. They matter. In fact, they are often what matter most.

 

When I remember my dad, lots of memories swirl in my head, but there are these little things that come to mind and mean so much more than one might take at face value.

My dad was the “yo” man. This was a greeting that he used…and one that I still use to this day. It was just a part of who he was. But my fondest memory of his use of this word was a little something that he did that my sister and I found hilarious.

We would be in the car driving with the windows down and my dad would call out “Yo!” to some unsuspecting person walking down the street, and then we would all look innocent like we didn’t say anything. The person would look all around like “who’s calling me?!” and we would just look straight ahead. Oh, my, that sent us into major giggle fits. It was silly. And small. And something that is a loving memory of the goofball that my dad could be.

Maybe we were on our way to run errands that might have taken up a great deal of our day—but it was the “yo” man that stuck with me. Not the errands.

 

driving

 

Joy in the twinkling of a moment.

We often put a lot of pressure on ourselves to carve out experiences for our kids that are momentous in a big way…when it’s often the little ways that stick around.

A few years ago we were fortunate enough to travel with some friends to Florida and go to Walt Disney World. It was a great trip and we made lots of wonderful memories, but recently when my son wrote a story about it for school, the thing that was his most powerful memory was his finding a frog, picking it up, and learning that it was petrified dead.

The Magic Kingdom? Oh, yes…we had a blast. Beach and pool time? You bet. And while he remembers all of that with a smile, his face lights up when he talks about that damn frog.

 

frog kingdom

 

And while the “big trips” of life should happen for sure, they simply can’t be a measure of our success in how we care and provide for our loved ones.

As a mom, sometimes it’s taking twenty minutes to shoot a game of Horse in the driveway, or snuggling during a Full House rerun, or even making lunch together. As a wife, sometimes it’s making sure to carve out a few minutes of real “face time” or watching our favorite TV show late at night after the rest of the world has gone to bed. As a friend, sometimes it’s texting a simple “how you?” to let them know you are thinking about them at whatever hour of the day.

 

??????????????????????????

 

That’s what I need to remember when I am in the swirl of a day that is getting away from me. A day where nothing is working the way it should. A day where my ToDo list seems to grow like the plant in “Little Shop of Horrors.” A day where I look at the clock and realize I’m way behind schedule. A day where I feel I have let everyone down once again.

Stop.

And take a moment.

To be the “yo” woman I know I can be.

Just maybe she’s enough after all.

 

ToDo Graphic2

Beyond the Status Line

Beyone the Status LineDo Facebook status lines ever pop up in your head? Or maybe you have something cross your mind and think, “Hey, that would make a good tweet”?

Just like television news helped our attention spans shrink down to “sound bites,” it looks like our love of social media is training our brains to share in 140 character life snippets. Or at least that’s what we frequently present to the world.

 

Oh, but there’s so much more…right?

Everyone’s got a story…and it’s a helluva lot richer than any Facebook status, Instagram filtered photo, or even series of tweets can do justice to. Don’t get me wrong—I love “the Facebook” and “the Twitter”—but we must not fool ourselves into thinking we know people through these mediums. We can know more about them but not truly know them.

I’ve written before about how social media filters our lives, but I want to go beyond that here.

Beyond the status line.

“Real” life offers us a chance to look people in the eye and ask them how they are…but often it goes something like this:

 

“Hey, how are you?”
“Fine. How ‘bout yourself?”
“Pretty good. You have a good one.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
And…scene.

 

Maybe that’s why so many of us love Facebook—I have to admit that in the years I’ve been on it, I’ve never seen a status that says, “Today I’m fine.” No…people typically share a specific something, be it a fun moment of the day or a frustration or where they are enjoying a meal…We get a glimpse into a detail of their lives.

But it is a glimpse—and a crafted one at that.

 

Here's a little something I shared a while back.
Here’s a little something I shared a while back.

 

 

What is the real story? Beyond the “I’m fines” and the pictures of spring break excursions lurks…real life.

I’m a big fan of real life. It’s messy and chaotic and often quite hard.

But it’s real.

In between getting the work done one night at one of my part-time jobs, I learned about a single dad’s journey to take care of his daughter, a family’s anguish over having to make a choice about life support for a loved one, a man struggling to be a good role model to his seven kids, a young woman trying to find her way in life, and a friend’s hospital stay.

And I wasn’t pretending to be Barbara Walters by asking probing questions—I just paid attention and listened.

Obviously, each and every one of their stories helped me to know them better. To understand that their lives have complications and challenges that, while they may not be similar to mine, are something that I can connect with and share in. We talked beyond the status line.

While I may not have that many stories shared with me every day, it does amaze me how much I can learn about someone just by being interested and listening.

Everyone has a story…a life…that is layered and multi-faceted and…theirs. And we need to remember that when it may seem like others are skipping through life without a care, leaving us feeling like “they” have their acts together and “we” don’t.

Life is hard. It can be downright exhausting, overwhelming, and scary. And while some may seem to have it “easier” or “better” than others, life isn’t supposed to be a competition, is it?

I’ve never understood the joy some people have over seeing a Justin Bieber or a Lindsay Lohan struggle or fail. Someone’s downfall doesn’t inherently raise anyone else up. Why the delight? I have no idea what it must be like to be so famous, but I bet it isn’t as awesome as many people assume. At least I know my friends like me for who I am (or more accurately in spite of that) and not what I can do for them. What must it be like to never know if people love you just because you’re you? I bet it’s damn hard.

Maybe that grass is greener…and maybe not.

Everyone’s grass can be green…or brown…or trampled on from time to time. Everyone’s grass needs nurturing. Everyone’s grass thrives with some care and watering and weeding.

 

greener

 

We should rejoice not only in our own green grass, but the rest of the world’s rolling green lawns, too. I mean, why not? Doesn’t it just make for a more beautiful world?

But I digress. (Now that most of the snow is gone (for now…trust me, I’m not taking it for granted) I guess my mind is stuck on the green of spring!)

Sometimes the “I’m fines” are all we’re up to offering, I know. I totally get that. While I’ve always been a pretty good ear for others to bend, I’m but a youngster in the world of vulnerability. It’s not easy—but I am learning that it is critical in truly connecting with those I love, so I’m working on it.

But some days even 140 characters is more than I want to share.

I guess that what I aim to encourage here is that we remember that what we see in the world around us probably isn’t the full story…and the full story is worth knowing.

That beyond the succinct status lines of life, the full story can lead us to understand that we are not alone in this world. That while our blessings and challenges may be different, we still share in them…and can encourage one another…and lift one another up.

And that makes the grass greener for the whole wide world.

Remembering the “Brutal” in Being “Brutally Honest”

honestyI am a huge fan of honesty. If there was an honesty fan club, I think I might even run for vice president (president would be too much work—I’m just setting my hypothetical goals realistically). I’ve noticed several people lately, though, speak of themselves as being “brutally honest.”

I’m not such a fan of that.

It seems to me to be an attempt to cloak rudeness and a lack of compassion as a virtue that isn’t merited.

I can’t believe I’m about to incorporate the TV show “The Bachelor” into one of my posts, but…here I go. Recently the reality TV world was caught by storm by the charismatic Juan Pablo. He was supposed to be this great catch—a loving single father with a great body and a suave personality.

And a whole lot of heart, right?

Wrong.

At least not the way I saw it. Time after time, he would say things that ranged from not nice to flat out offensive and couch it as honesty. “I’m just being honest…” was a frequent phrase that slipped out of his mouth after words that were, if not hurtful, certainly not a feel-good.

I think I might feel less frustration with Juan Pablo’s attitude if he could take what he dished out, but it certainly didn’t come off that way. When two of the women had critical things to say of him, he either ignored their comments or said his other catch phrase of “It’s okay…” and then, when they were out of earshot, made a cutting remark about each of them. Don’t use a shield of “honesty” if it only works one way. (I say this aware of the way reality TV can craft a story through editing. Perhaps JP had moments that we didn’t see that showed him in a kinder light, but seeing him speak live, I think giving this benefit of the doubt is a reach.)

Saying whatever you want without a filter and then chalking it up to honesty isn’t okay.

And, conversely, NOT saying whatever you want without a filter doesn’t equal dishonesty. We get that, right?

This doesn’t mean that one should not speak the truth in love, but we need to remember the “in love” part, don’t you think?

In this era of amazingly hurtful and hateful comments on the Internet, I am worried that we are touting brutal honesty as a positive when all it really is is…brutal.

I see this in “real” life, too. Over the weekend, an acquaintance of mine—a really nice guy—turned and said to a young woman, “You have lipstick on! It looks good.” She beamed, and then he continued, “You know, your lips are too thin.” She immediately looked down and agreed with him, tried to explain what she does to overcome it, and then walked away.

lips

He saw the WTF? look on my face and said, “I can’t help it—I’m just honest.” I then proceeded to try and get him to see that while it’s lovely he gives compliments so freely, he doesn’t need to give criticisms in the same manner. I’m not convinced it registered with him.

We have enough negatives in this world without people feeling compelled to be “brutally honest” and thinking it’s an admirable trait—particularly when it is unsolicited.

Honesty is critically important, for sure, but it doesn’t mean we can then thoughtlessly eschew compassion or courtesy in the name of truth (or, more accurately, the truth as we see it).

We absolutely need honesty–but we need to remember that that does not mean saying whatever we feel like whenever we want to.

Imagine a world where everyone said whatever they wanted no matter who they might hurt or offend—oh, wait—I already mentioned the world of Internet commenting. I don’t know about you, but I rarely let myself read comments on the Net because it hurts my heart that people think it’s okay to treat one another like that.

It is not okay.

And I don’t for the life of me understand why some people think it IS okay. Maybe I’m just too sensitive, but if that’s the case, I’d rather be too sensitive than a jerkwad.

Saying whatever you want does not equal the truth–it equals you saying whatever you want.

All we need to do is think about our own lives and what words help and what words hurt…and then work to offer the helping ones instead of the hurting ones. This is not to say that we should only say words of feel-good fluff and lightness, but rather to think before we speak. Is it a criticism that is asked for? Does it really need to be said? Will it cause someone hurt? Is it anything that the person can change? Does it have a shot at making things better? Worse?

I think back to what a different impact the “lip” conversation would have had without the unsolicited criticism attached to it. Instead of the girl walking away with shoulders slumped, feeling bad about something she has no control over, she would have kept that smile going a lot longer.

puppies

Granted, it’s not our responsibility to fill everyone’s esteem tank, but it sure makes the world a more beautiful place when we choose to do so, and we remember that the choice to be brutally honest is often just another way of being brutal to one another.

We can be so much better than that.

The Quiet Space

quiet-spaceThere is a tiny little space that can make all the difference in our relationships, according to The Book of Me. (That’s not really a book (yet) but it is more fun to say than “in my opinion.”) The results of creating this minute space can ripple far beyond the immediate.

What exactly is this space? I call it the Quiet Space—the time between listening to what someone has said to you and replying to it. It is that time where we have heard what the other person has said, processed it (at least in part), and thought about what our reply should be. Because our brains are so amazing, this only takes a moment, but it can be a truly powerful one.

dog talkI’ve lived enough years and paid enough attention to life to know that a common thing pretty much everyone wants is to feel truly heard—to be understood. I know I do. Maybe that’s why I love writing so…it is filled with quiet spaces of thought and a desire to be understood.

I also have enough self-awareness to know that I am guilty of thinking of the next thing I want to say rather than giving my full attention to the one speaking. This is particularly evident in an argument—when I am busy getting my next line of defense in order, rather than digesting what words are coming my way.

Very human…and also very frustrating.

If two people are not allowing for quiet space, they are merely speaking at each other, not to each other and will most likely find this as satisfying as slapping their respective heads against the wall. I’m pretty sure we’ve all been there and have the flat foreheads to prove it.

talk cans

With a little quiet space and a feeling of being understood, arguments can slow down and maybe even come to a resolution (a what?) rather than adding logs to the fire.

But the quiet space doesn’t just help end combat—it also acts as a net for those you love to know they can fall into.

Let’s peek in on this imaginary scenario: maybe you’re sipping a coffee at a local establishment doodling on your phone when the table next to you is having an intimate conversation. (I have to say, I think people at these places believe that each table is a soundproof room or something, because LOTS is shared…and loudly…so even though I want to play QI for the 3648 time on Words with Friends, I can’t help but overhear…)

The first friend shares, “I don’t know what to do. He said he’s done trying and wants out. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” her friend responds. “He’s probably just trying to make a point. I can’t tell you how many times George has said something like that to me. I remember one time when…” and off she goes to tell her hurting friend about something from her own life, rather than truly digesting what her friend has said and responding to it.

Now, the “listener” isn’t a bad person…she’s just not letting her friend’s words get all the way into her heart. For whatever reason, we all too often respond with a “me, too” or a quick bit of advice, rather than letting the words sink in and register. With a little honoring of the quiet space, the chance to let some real compassion grow increases a bunch.

If the listener hears and processes why her friend is sharing, her response might take a totally different turn into something like, “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. No wonder you’re confused—this is tough stuff.”

And instead of just swapping marital war stories, the friend now feels as though she has a safe place to share her hurt.

I think this can move mountains when it comes to connecting with one another.

chairs

Think of the impact we can have in our daily lives and the lives of those we care about with a little more quiet space and a little less need to fill the void with our own next (very important!) words.

Some quiet space goes a long way in letting real communication happen. It gives us the chance to understand the other person and measure our own response. What a wonderful opportunity!

And there is no risk involved—only the promise of gain. What an awesome investment of time.

Don’t neglect the power of the quiet space. It is in fact the absence of an immediate response that can speak the loudest of all. You gotta love the irony.