In 2017...

In 2017...

I will be audacious.

I will spend more time politely saying no thank you, and spend less time being pressured into a half-hearted yes.

I will focus on following my heart, and spend less time worrying about the unrealistic expectations of others.

I will spend much more time being creative, and less time being aimlessly busy.

I will not fall into the trap that being busy is something to be admired. I will look at excessive busyness as the stealer of authentic life moments.

I will stand up for principles I hold dear, without worrying about what anyone thinks. I will remember that if I am standing up for something I feel is right and good and just and holy, then others disagreeing with me should not matter to me whatsoever.

I will read more, not only because it is extremely enjoyable, but also because I discover so much more about myself when I read, which in turn makes me a more authentic me.

I will tackle the laundry problem, and I will win.

I will try to feel as close to God as I did when I was a younger me at Lake Junaluska, before adulthood stole my naivety of the world. I miss that.

I will go to the movies more...because it's fun.

I will try to read the whole Bible, because I'm not sure how great it's going to sound when I tell God I've made time to read all these amazing mysteries but not HIS entire book.

I won't worry about the state of my house when a friend drops by, because if it's a real friend, clutter doesn't matter.

I will not be ashamed of being a deeply feeling person. I will use it as the gift that it is.

I will exercise in a way that I enjoy, a way that I am more likely to stick with, and not necessarily the most popular ways.

I will try to do better and not fall into the bottomless pit of overthinking.

I will continue to remind my mirror reflection that grand expressions and smiling eyes and laugh lines are more beautiful and younger looking than immovable faces and waxen stillness.

I will try to see the humor in absolutely everything, because humor is truly one of God's greatest gifts.

If it's trendy to wear stripes, I might wear polka dots, and if big heels are popular I might wear comfortable flats. I will remind myself that the most beautiful thing of all is confidence and being comfortable in your own skin.

I will try to be more giving.

I will try to be more productive.

I will try to eat more healthy most of the time, but if I truly want the piece of cake, I am going to eat the piece of cake- no regrets.

I am going to write, write, and write some more. Like it's my job. Like a boss. Writing will not take a back seat to tedious tasks. The book will be finished this time next year. I will set attainable goals, and I will reach them.

I won't be a slave to distractions. I don't have to jump for every text, ding, and piece of information that comes my way. That can wait. But Monopoly with my family may not.

I will slow the pace on many things, and accelerate the pace on others.

There will be more now, and less yesterday and tomorrow.

This year will be a good one. This  year I'm hitting "reset."

I will be kind...

but I will be fierce.

Happy New Year!!!!!!!

Ice Cream, Hugs, and Music

To say that the last few months have been tumultuous would be quite an understatement. Many of us have been angered, saddened, embarrassed, enraged, horrified, empowered, incensed, or some other big, strong, soul-rattling emotion. Perhaps many emotions all at once.

During these times, some of us have drawn closer to people we may have more in common with than we ever before realized, and many of us have found that some of those closest to us seem like strangers. We have had our feelings hurt, and we have hurt others' feelings. Sometimes without even knowing.

It's been rough. All of the hostility has been in the air for a while now. It has been defeating. It's been exhausting. And mostly, it's been disheartening.

Our bodies, minds, and spirits are beaten down, and oh, so very tired.

No one should have to apologize for standing up for something they believe in, nor should anyone apologize for standing against something they believe to be wrong.

What is it they say? If you don't stand for something then you stand for nothing.

But sometimes we need to regroup. To rest. To feel peace. To reconnect. 

Our souls need music, hugs and ice cream. Simplicity.

There are times the swirling needs to stop.

Sometimes you need to feel the warm water running over your wrist while you wash a dish with Bing Crosby singing in the background. 

Sometimes you need to notice the light reflecting off your son's eyelashes while he is talking to you on the front steps in the brisk fall air.

Sometimes you need to look at a strangers, right into their eyes, and give a real smile and have that smile returned. 

Maybe, like a friend of mine, you even need to tell the guy at Starbucks that your name is actually 'Shazam' so he will yell it when your drink is ready.

It's about to be December, which should be the most peaceful and holy time of the year. And if we allow all the static in, we won't be able to feel the magic of the season.

Whatever fight we have before us, whatever battle we need to wage, whether it is for something we believe in, or against something we don't...

That battle will still be there the first day of 2017. 

And maybe, just maybe, if we stop and regroup, by then, our path will look clearer and our spirit will be stronger and filled with renewed love and purpose for others and ourselves.

'Twas the Night Before the Election

'Twas the night before the election,

And all through Facebook,

Questions of Trump grabbing women, Or is Hilary a crook?

The poll workers were ready,

Tomorrow was the day.

One would have to be president,

There wasn't any other way.

The voters were nestled,

All snug in their beds,

But no one was sleeping, 

They were overcome with dread.

With Daddy in his red shirt,

And Mama in her blue,

We trudged to the polls,

Not knowing what to do.

When up near the voting booth,

There arose such a clatter,

I peeked ahead in line,

To see what was the matter.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But two voters fighting,

Their eyes filled with fear.

"But what about those tax returns!"

One of them shouted.

"So what's in those e-mails?"

The other one pouted.

More rapid than eagles,

The curses they came,

And they bellowed and shouted,

And called them by name.

But what about Benghazi,

And e-mails deleted?

Whitewater and 'Pay to Play',

She must be defeated!

You want a sociopath,

With our nuclear fate?

Who has a bromance with Putin,

And incites nothing but hate?

They went back and forth,

Until red in the face.

All eyes were on them,

Every voter in the place.

Finally they tired,

Running out of fight.

They both loved America,

This just wasn't right.

When all of this is over,

And the election finally ends.

These two will still be standing,

These two should still be friends.

After they finished,

Both casting their vote.

Neither looked happy,

They were in the same boat.

One walked toward the other,

It would all be okay.

He began clearing his throat,

And started to say,

We just need to stop,

We've been friends for years.

We need to stay kind,

In spite of our fears.

We can't let an election,

Tear us apart.

We both want what's best,

We're each following our heart.

As one turned to the other,

With a twinkle in his eye,

I leaned a little closer,

Though I didn't want to pry.

And I heard him exclaim,

Ere he walked out of sight,

"We can always just hope,

For a big meteorite!"

Nine more days...who will we be?

Finally, this divisive election will soon be over, but I believe we all know that it won't really be over at all. Someone will win and someone will lose, obviously. If "your" candidate doesn't win, if "my" candidate doesn't win, what will we do?

1. We can complain, threaten to move to Canada, spew venom at those who elected this president, fail to see any good in the new president at all, lash out on social media, and cause more hatred and divisiveness to spread within our nation. We can contribute to the tearing apart of our nation from within.

OR...

2. We can secretly think that everyone who voted for this person is certifiably crazy, BUT, we can also hope and pray to be pleasantly surprised. If there is any good, we can TRY to see it. After all, since our nation's birth we have been severely let down by presidents from whom we expected great things. Isn't it fathomable that the opposite could take place? That we could maybe, even occasionally be shocked in a good way?

Someone will win and someone will lose. Half of the nation will be relieved, and half will angered. And many of us find both choices disheartening.

How will we handle it?

Because I think we can all agree that how our nation survives, who we ARE, at the end of the four year term, is much more important than who wins or loses.

We are better

Someone told me the other day that I needed to write my blog more often.

Deep down I already knew that. I want to write. It keeps me sane. It makes me happy. It gives me oxygen.

But honestly, I haven't been able to write a blog entry lately.

Why? I'm angry.

I'm honestly too angry and too fed up with this world right now to even know what to say. I guess I could try to write something whimsical, but I'm not feeling it.

I could write how I'm feeling about one of the 10,572 issues going on right now that everyone is arguing about, but I don't feel strong enough for the backlash, and what could possibly turn into extreme hatefulness if you have been reading any of the comments on any news article that happens to come your way.

Everyone seems so full of hate, an 'us vs. them' mentality. Everyone seems so willing to spew venom, yet everyone seems raw.

Everyone is looking at each other with guarded, tender, angry hearts.

Tonight is the debate, Lord help us.

I am predicting that everyone will watch, with their red or blue tinted glasses, only seeing the flaws of the candidate they don't support. Then it will be taken to social media where there is no respectful debating. It is raw, angry, insulting, in-your-face, fighting.

The kind of fighting where everyone wants to either punch the wall or throw up their hands and walk away.

I have had enough. Simply enough.

I have seen people tear each other down, friends who are friends with each other no more, and enough hatefulness on social media to almost literally make me scream.

I have opinions about this election. Very strong opinions. And I could give a million and one reasons why I think one of the candidates is the lesser of the two evils of the choices we have been given. But this blog post isn't about that. 

I am saddened by our political choices, saddened by all that is going on in our nation, but mostly by people's reactions of what's happening in our nation and the way everyone is tearing each other down.

I don't mean we shouldn't have opinions. We absolutely should. Perhaps now more than ever. But convictions can be supported in two ways, with a hateful, insulting, devisive rant, or with a calm, steady and loving sharing of truth.

Here is a thought. What if every single person, or even half of the people, would show nothing but love to each other- a smile, a hug, a short conversation, a "we clearly disagree but that's okay, and I really love your new haircut, it really brings out your eyes."

Maybe it's really that simple.

There are people who are struggling with severe mental illnesses, taking care of special needs children, people wondering where they will get their next meal, or taking care of aging parents, physically and emotionally exhausted.

And meanwhile, people are spewing hate at each other like wild animals.

Let's just stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

Now.

We are better than this. 

I will be starting with the person I see in the mirror. 

Be the Change

When I was a kid, we were in a Cold War with Russia. Russia was the enemy. I never dreamed, flashing forward 30 plus years, that the enemy would be each other.

What we mustn't forget is that black people want to live in harmony with white people, and white people want to live in harmony with black people. We are letting the few bad ones tear this country apart like some modern day civil war and it absolutely sickens me. 

Let's be bigger than the bad ones and more persistent than the bad ones. If you are a white person, please do something kind for a black person today. If you are a black person, please do something kind for a white person today. 

In fact let's keep it going much longer than a day. Like forever.

These are the Days

~These are days you'll remember. 

Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this. 

And as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.~

                                   10,000 Maniacs

This time of year there are moms who are feeling the kick to the gut. It's hitting them hard. It's hitting US hard.

Oh, I'm not talking about the moms realizing this is the last summer before their little ones start kindergarten. I remember that, and there are lots of emotions with that. There really are. 

"He's not a baby anymore."

"What am I going to do with myself?"

"She's growing so fast."

But I'm not talking about those moms. The moms I'm talking about are quieter about these new feelings. Introspective. And they are scared. We are scared.

Our children aren't babies anymore, and they are still growing fast, but what stops us in our tracks, and what makes our stomachs drop like a free- falling elevator isn't that.

It's, "We don't have much longer with them."

It's, "It wasn't all supposed to happen this fast."

And, "What am I going to do with myself when the house is silent?"

It's a new emotion, and it's a scary one. 

I have friends who are sending kids to high school in the fall. Four more years in the nest. 

I'm sending my oldest to 7th, and it's painfully clear to me how fast these last years will go.

People always tell you to treasure every minute when they are babies because it will fly by quicker than you can imagine. 

But little did we know that THESE are the days we should be treasuring. The middle school and high school years. THESE are the MOST precious because this is the finale before we let them fly on their own. 

We hope to always have a wonderful relationship with our children even after they go out on their own. But let's face it, these years are the last that we will have the influence we have now. They are crucial years. Years where the best memories need to be made. Years where the truly important conversations need to happen. Years where we try to connect with them in a way that will always lead them back home.

The time is now. We already know that time went a lot faster than we thought it would. We learned that the hard way, just like every mother has before, and every mother will after.

This summer, there will be a lot of times they are hanging with their friends, which of course gets more and more frequent the older they get. But those other times? The times they aren't?

I'm going to savor it. 

I'm going to do my very best to savor every second. I'm going to drink it in with a new perspective. 

I don't have endless piles of time handed to me on a silver platter, like it used to feel in the early years of motherhood. I have chunks of time. I must be deliberate with each sacred piece. 

These can be the best days of our lives with our kids. Why? Because we have the gift of perspective. The gift of knowing that as Goethe said, "Nothing is worth more than this day."

Let's use each day as a gift, a chance to build connections that will always lead them home long after they have learned to fly on their own.

My Love Affair With Books

It's almost as if I hear them whispering. 

"Look inside. It will change your life."

Of course I don't really hear the books whispering, but it's how I feel when I'm inside a library or a book store.

My sense of awareness is heightened, as if something new is about to be discovered. Endless possibilities.

Not many things can excite me as much as the possibility of a thrilling book. I've pretty much been this way since I was four.

I still remember the perfume my mom wore while I was reading the Nancy Drew series. The memory is that much a part of me. To this day when I smell Estée Lauder's Private Collection, childhood happiness washes over me.

Some people don't get it. Those who don't read not only don't get it, but also think it sounds a bit strange. But those who love books know exactly what I'm talking about.

How can anyone get so much pleasure from not experiencing something, but reading about it? That's what non- readers might ask. And it's a valid question.

But I would argue that with the right imagination and the right book, you actually are experiencing it.

One of the things that has always made me nervous about life is that there simply isn't time to do all of the things I want to do. I can't bear the thought that I might never get to be a detective, or own a bookshop, or be a writer in a flat in New York, or fall in love in Italy. 

But I will get to do all of these things with a book and an imagination.

If we weren't experiencing it as if it really were happening, books wouldn't have the power to make us laugh out loud, or cry, or bite our fingernails in anticipation.

And I feel confident in saying that I know myself so much better because I read. You know that moment when you are reading and you come to *that* sentence. A sentence that resonates so deep within you that you feel a deep connection with the writer whom you don't even know. You suddenly feel implicitly understood, validated, like you are not alone and apparently have never been alone in your feelings.

I dare say books develop who you are. They slowly, over time, help you see truths about yourself and others that shape who you are and how your react to certain situations. They help you become the more authentic "you" that you were always meant to be.

One of my biggest hopes is that I pass on my love of reading to my children. Because I truly believe that is one of the best gifts that can be given.

And I don't really believe there are non-readers. There are really just undiscovered readers who haven't found the right book.

There is a reason that when I'm asked if I could have one item on a deserted island, the answer has always been and always will be a book. Because with a book I wouldn't be stranded. I would get to go everywhere.

The Boys Who Built Me

I slowly slid off my workout mat, walked cautiously over to the bug, scooped him up, and released him out of the gym door.

My workout partner looked at me and said, "You can sure tell you're a boy mom!"

Ah, it's true I suppose. I always knew, or hoped rather, that I would be a mom. But I had no idea I would be a boy mom. Or even a mom to two boys.

As Plato (who was, of course, brilliant) said, "Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable." 

If that doesn't intimidate a mom to be, I don't know what would.

And I must admit (though at the beginning I was so inexperienced and nervous) that having boys has opened my eyes to new things and has changed me in some truly wonderful and unexpected ways.

1. For one thing, I have certainly become more in tune with nature. I'm always on the lookout for cool rocks, or interesting outdoorsy things. We identify animal tracks and see how many times we can skip rocks on the water. And what on earth is sweeter than a little boy with twinkling eyes offering his mother fresh picked flowers in his chubby little dimpled hands? (Even if they really are weeds). I just chaperoned a middle school field trip to an aquarium and then on to Rock City. I had both boys and girls in my group. The girls were slowly walking, taking in everything, taking pictures of jellyfish and taking time to choose things in the gift shop. The boys were like Labrador Retriever puppies just let out of their kennels. They were running and climbing, making the scary swinging bridge swing even more. And through the walkways, were hiding in crevices and trying to scare me by jumping out like scenes from a horror movie. It's just how they roll.

2. I now realize that Sandlot is possibly one of the best movies ever made. This coming-of-age movie seriously captures tween boys in a way that no article or expert can. I live it first hand. If you ever want to be truly entertained, just sit back, watch, and listen to a group of middle school boys. There isn't much else on this earth more delightfully entertaining.

3. I never really fully knew that you could learn almost every life lesson you need from baseball, or any sport for that matter. Camaraderie, patience, perseverance, self-confidence, self-discipline, humbleness, fairness, strength, commitment. A sport is

about so much more than just the sport. I love everything sports have taught my boys AND me.

4.  I like dirt. I probably need to clarify this one. There is a certain beauty in seeing a boy, younger or older, covered in dirt. I would rather see a boy covered in dirt and grass, with dingy wet shoes, than a boy in a polo with pressed khakis any day. Damp and muddy means he jumped in that puddle, climbed that rock, dove for that ball. If he is covered in dirt, it means he LIVED that day.

5. Having boys, I also never realized how IRRITATED I would get at society's underappreciation of the mother-son bond.

"There is an endearing tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that 

transcends all other affections of the heart." ~ Washington Irving

Yet...

Father-son fishing tournaments? Yep. Father-son camping trips? Sure! There are tons of those! Mother-daughter luncheons? Why yes!!! Father-daughter dances? Of course! Where in the fresh heck are the events for mothers and sons?? ...crickets...

As Steve Rushin said, "Moms are as relentless as the tides. They don't just drive us to practice, they drive us to greatness."

So where is the celebration of this, people? There has GOT to be more celebration than just waiting for that three-minute mother/son dance at the wedding.

It is my absolute mission before too long to throw together some sort of charity mother/son baseball tournament. Get your gloves ready mamas. Enough is enough.

6. I suddenly get why Chandler (on Friends) laughed every time someone said "duty." They never grow out of it. Never. Ever.

7. I never knew that someone 100 pounds or less could consume this much food without rupturing his intestines. It seems to defy all scientific laws. The way to their hearts is through their stomachs. It's true. So be sure you have some good recipes that they love so when your son marries that little hussy in California who won't move he will still want to come back for your spaghetti sauce. They really do eat more than the human brain can comprehend. And I have learned that if you even think you might want a Sister Schubert Roll, you had better grab it, FAST. Because boys eat bread like they haven't eaten for weeks in the Mojave Desert and have just been awarded the feast on Survivor. 

8. I allow things in my house that I never would have imagined. I believe at one point there was going to be no throwing balls in the house. That was my original intent anyway. It's all fuzzy now. I have now been known to allow American Ninja Warrior stunts in my hallway. And I once actually heard myself yelling in Target, "Stop throwing the football!!! But that was a really nice pass."

9. I never realized how sacred the drives to and from games or Wednesday night church would be. Some of our deepest, most meaningful conversations have been in the car with just the two of us. Just driving after dark with the radio turned low. 

Sacred.

Come to find out, boys open up about things much easier when they don't have you staring right at them.

Who knew?

10. Life with boys is full throttle. Sort of like a permanent adrenaline rush. A roller coaster every day. They have more energy than their bodies can contain. They need to take risks, to be challenged, to explore, to compete. I never realized how wild and untamed the spirit of the boy is. And what I never would have realized before, is that I would never want to tame them. They are just the way God intended. And I am so, so lucky to be a part of their magical, wild world.

Thank you, God.