Elf Anarchy

You know that phrase "Shut the front door"?

Well, it has just officially changed.

It is now "Shut the box." No. Seriously. Shut the elf box. Just shut the box containing the elf. Put your hands over your head where we can see them, and quietly, ever so quietly, move away from the box containing whatever type of elf is inside. Do not make any sudden movements or the evil critter might jump on you like a flying monkey and suck your breath out.

The. Elves. Are. Done.

Let's end this now.

All of these elves sitting on these shelves who are now not only celebrating Christmas, but also BIRTHDAYS...Must. Be. Eliminated.

The creators of these little festive demons are probably now multi-millionaires at our sweaty, overworked-mommy expense.

It's time to fight back.

Just like a train wreck where you can't look away, I decided to Google this new birthday elf and see exactly what tricks he is trying to pull. We older, more seasoned elf-experienced rebel mothers are ready to take a stand. But these newer mommies who are worried about doing everything right???

Look. Away.

Look away right now or your soul will be turned to stone.

Here is what the new birthday elf entails...

Apparently the elves have a "special" way of celebrating birthdays at the North Pole. (Yippee Ki-Yay)

SO...there are special instructions for how you can invite your elf to spend your birthday with you!!! There is even a special birthday outfit you can slip your elf into for the big day!!!! Of COURSE there is ($Cha-Ching$)

Now, I WILL say that there was a place on the website where you could donate to kids in need, kids whose needs are as simple as a clean glass of water. And THAT is where we should be spending our elf bucks- for SURE. So, if you have an elf, or want an elf, I think this part is wonderful. Lets do just THIS part.

Maybe our Christmas elves, since many of us seem to already be stuck with them, should do random acts of kindness at Christmas time for the less fortunate. It seems to make way more sense than rolling them down the stairs inside a roll of toilet paper.

I will readily admit, I love to be creative. But I'm not sure around Christmas or birthdays is when we need extra tasks.

"Oh, sure I can organize the class Christmas party, and work, and decorate the house, and buy and wrap all the Christmas gifts for both sides of the family, and find an angel costume for the church play- but wait!!! First I have to dump a bag of powdered sugar in my floor at 1:00 AM so our pretend elf can make a snow angel so my children can smile for 1.2 seconds about it, and then I can spend a half an hour cleaning it up while I'm already running late."

Anyhow, the Elf anarchy must end.

If we let this continue, there will soon be an Arbor Day Elf and we will have to gather up our elves and go plant trees. Then there will be Columbus Day Elf where the inventors of this hive-inducing tradition encourage us to build a replica of the Nina, Pinta, or Santa Maria so our elves can board these vessels and pretend they are searching for new land. I say we let our elves celebrate Halloween, perhaps sitting on a ledge somewhere on Elm Street, give them a little Benadryl, wish them sweet dreams, and see how they fare with a man in a green and red sweater (See? Festive!)... named Freddy.

Seriously.

Moms unite. We can do this.

*Virtual fist bump*

Who needs Norman Rockwell?

If you are like us, any day involving high expectations usually takes a nose dive. A major one.

Like I said yesterday morning, if we ever have to be somewhere on time, looking nice, with pictures taken, you might as well go on and cue the Jaws theme song. Because there is trouble in the water.

In my "mind" I would want Easter morning to go something like this. We would all rise to the smell of fresh cinnamon rolls (special morning treat) while the kids relished their Easter baskets.

Reality was that I have no idea what the kids had for breakfast because I woke up with a sinus infection feeling so bad that all I could do was pull the covers over my head. My husband took care of it, whatever it was, and my breakfast was peanut butter spread on a slice of bread that had surpassed its freshness washed down with a Coke, all which was scarfed down in the car on the way to Easter service.

I had truly, truly planned the night before for Easter morning. I even laid out the boys' clothes so everything would go smoothly in the morning. I really, really should just go on and eliminate the word "smoothly" from my vocabulary. Somehow one loafer was missing. I accused the boys first and then ended up peering inside the dog crate to see if he was enjoying a new leather treat. He had an Easter basket too, and maybe he got confused. My sons finally ended up finding the shoe in one of their Easter baskets where it was reportedly thrown. Don't. Even. Want. To. Know.

The day before I had even planned on wearing a dress I love that I hadn't worn since last year. My how times have changed! My husband had laughed as I breezed by him the night before muttering under my breath that now in the dress I look like Humpty (#%#^) Dumpty.

Darn that dress for somehow still having the exact same amount of material it used to have.

With my pollen induced puffy eyes, and while suppressing the need to stop up my nostrils with Kleenex (not a good look), I simply told my husband to go take a picture of the boys on the porch. I knew I just could not deal. I hoped for the best, not even looking at the photos yet. I thought it was important that I still liked everyone as we walked into church.

Of course the church service was perfect. The pastor spoke about God's unconditional love. And thank goodness our families love us unconditionally as well, even when we don't fix a decent Easter breakfast and become a little Mommy Dearest-ish when we can't find shoes (this has been going on for ten years).
Yes, we have a designated shoe spot. No, it doesn't matter.

In my mind we would all go home to a wonderful home-cooked meal which I had carefully planned. After eating we would take a stroll through our neighborhood, some of us perhaps even holding hands.

Reality was that the pictures on the front steps of our house were a disaster. We finally got a decent picture after church, not in front of flowers or even a cross, but in front of some wood paneling inside Chili's restaurant.

It is what it is.

Our lunch consisted of the boys being a bit boisterous. The youngest one entertained himself by embarrassing his brother and using a line he learned from an episode of Good Luck Charlie. He mischievously announced that his brother was, "Single and ready to mingle," to those walking by.

Nothing like Norman Rockwell.

But then, a few hours after we got home, something truly amazing happened. The boys, together, in sweet harmony, grabbed their baseball gear and went to the backyard. My 10-year old worked with my 7-year-old on his baseball skills. I heard no fighting. I did hear words of encouragement. The oldest helped the youngest of his own free will. The littlest listened to the wiser older brother, paying attention and never arguing.

Cue the Hallelujah Chorus.

After two hours of the Twilight Zone, the two of them came to us wanting to show us what they had been doing.

They performed four "phases" of skills they had been working on together. Lo and behold, the youngest had improved by leaps and bounds with just two hours with his brother. It was such an extreme transformation that my husband and I were almost rendered speechless.

So, since Easter is a very important day, I had been feeling like a failure because I hadn't made the day as special as I had intended. But that's when the little bit of unexpected magic was sprinkled on us. What is that saying about how there are no perfect days, only perfect moments?

Perfection isn't attainable anyhow. Even very special days are never totally perfect.

But to be honest, I think Norman Rockwell's stuff is a bit boring.

All Systems Overloaded

Lately, I've been suffering from the too-muchness of things.

There have been too many choices, too much information, too much responsibility, too much knowledge, too much debate, and too much anger out there floating around.

Sometimes, I simply do not want to know all of the lesser known, obscure symptoms of a stroke, or how all of my dinner plates are killing me, or how toxic the shrimp from Thailand is, or that my granite countertops are emitting poisonous gas that may be slowly, over time, killing me in my sleep, or that my cell phone is giving me a tumor, or that I can either have a weed-free yard or risk leukemia. (So far I'm winning this battle with my husband, but our yard is beginning to get embarrassing, and I'm not sure I will look convincing this summer with my little squirt bottle of vinegar. He already said we are NOT ripping out our countertops.)

I have always been a worrier. Lots of us are. And one year in my twenties when I found myself under a lot of stress, I became quite the hypochondriac for a while. I even convinced myself that I had some rare disease. I literally worried about it so much that I began actually having symptoms. I convinced my mom to call a medical hotline and was astounded to discover not only was it rare, but apparently found in Jewish men over 40.

My bad.

And by the way, I wonder how many people Google Internet searching has killed? THAT'S the statistic we need to be hearing about!

And my heart truly does go out to every single person whose sad story is posted on social media, but I find myself reading the status of someone who has suffered a horrible catastrophe, someone I didn't even know existed until 12:30 am when I probably should be in REM stage sleep or at least not have myself worked up into a nervous wreck.

I realize some of us walk around out there in this world a bit more peeled. I say peeled because the word "sensitive" sounds weak. And people who are peeled are ANYTHING but weak. We may be exhausted from taking on the world's problems, but we are strong and scrappy. Think about those little clementines they call "Cuties." Some of us out there don't have a peel. We are a bit more sensitive to words, suggestions, stressors. And it. Can. Be. Exhausting.

Here is an example. When I was a kid, one of my favorite things was going to my great-aunt and uncle's in Virginia every Christmas. It was always perfect.

But one year I was a basket case. Apparently they were expecting a piece of a satellite to crash to the earth. I'm sure no one else worried about this with the astronomical odds in favor of it not ending in catastrophe. It would more than likely land in an ocean or a field somewhere.

But not me. No sir. With every fiber of my being, I knew that sucker was going to come crashing through that roof in Winchester, Virginia, and totally take me out. And possibly before I could even see what Santa brought.

It would have been nice if I hadn't read about it in the paper, but that's just life sometimes.

But now, NOW, that we live in the information age, we get to read and hear about 20 things a DAY that could kill us, negatively impact us, or make us miserable. We get to hear about how all the things we are doing are wrong, and also hear about the things we should be doing. We don't even have to seek these things out. They find us. We could be typing an email and BAM!!! "Have you bought this type of wood in the past five years, blah, blah, blah?" "

I still have to cover my ears and run from the room when an ASPCA commercial comes on.

Last night my youngest had apparently seen something on the news where a woman ran down a police officer in her car. He looked at me and said, "I thought people were nice?"

Ouch.

Now, it would be hypocritical of me not to say that I used to be a part of the lovely media. I was a newspaper reporter. And I LOVED it. I got my college degree to go into law enforcement, so I like to think that as a reporter, I had a bit of a different perspective. You were never going to find me asking offensive, rude, and insensitive questions, and I didn't. But I digress. I just didn't want to seem hypocritical as I point out how much all of this CONSTANT information can't be good.

I do totally believe it's our right to know what is going on in the world around us. But I also think that being informed and being bombarded are two very different things. Lately things are just too much. Way too much.

And the guilt floating around out there!!! Yes, I DO love Jesus, and I support domestic abuse victims, and I think recycling is good, but no I am NOT going to make that my profile picture for an hour, because that is just ONE. MORE. THING. And then if I do it once, then I have to do it for all of them because if I don't then it seems like I support everything BUT that. IT'S A SLIPPERY SLOPE.

And NOOOOOO!!!!!!! I will NEVER play Candy Crush!

And NO, I will NOT just answer a few questions in your phone survey because apparently I can't even manage to find time to do squats every day so I can fit into my old jeans.

And then? The sink holes.

For the love...

I just don't know.

Scene From a Mexican Restaurant

The whole thing was bizarre. It sounds crazy, yet what I felt was real.

I had just been at a school event with my child in which we were working
a candy dig booth where each child used a shovel to dig for candy through a mysterious hole in a board where they couldn't exactly see all the yummy treasures they were acquiring. As the kids were dismissed from school, we were in the lunch room with hoards of frenzied hungry kids with money to spend. It was loud and it was hot. Did I mention it was loud AND hot?

After that I had to hurriedly help clean up and my husband took both of the boys with him to a baseball lesson for the oldest. We were to all meet afterwards at the Mexican restaurant.
I arrived at the restaurant alone, not realizing I would be waiting almost a full hour before they made it there. I was seated in a booth and I ordered a cold drink to quench my thirst as I waited.

Normally, in a situation like this, I would have called my husband to see what time they were meeting me, or while sitting there all alone, I would have naturally used my phone to entertain myself, a little Facebook or Words With Friends as a distraction to pass time. Why not? I was alone and had nothing but time and no one sitting with me to talk to. But when I reached for my phone it was completely dead. I didn't even have a way of checking to see how long I would be waiting for my family. I was stuck just sitting there by myself, waiting for an unspecific time, with nothing to do to pass the time. Just me in a dim but busy restaurant with my cold drink and my thoughts.

This is when things got strange. At first I noticed all of the conversations going on around me. Not in a stalkerish eavesdropping way, but more in a happy background noise type way. My hearing seemed more keen, my breathing seemed deeper, and I began noticing all the things around me. It's like all of my senses were on high alert, but not in a loud annoying way, but in an intensely aware and relaxing way.

I began noticing all the different colors in the room. The deep colors of the lights. Their bumpy texture. I felt like I was breathing deeper than before, like my lungs were finally at full capacity.

This may sound nuts, but it felt like perhaps for the first time in my life I was meditating. Accidentally meditating, but meditating nevertheless. When do we ever sit by ourselves for an hour without something keeping us occupied? We always have a to-do list or a television or phone or book or SOMETHING. When do we EVER sit for an HOUR and do absolutely nothing?

And then it hit me. Is this what we are now missing? Is this what our electronic devices and constant need to be engaged are stealing from us? Are they stealing our ability to just be?

Yes, they are. They absolutely are. We don't know how to just be anymore. How to sit and absorb everything around us. Think about how back in the old days the men would sit on the courthouse steps and just be on a lazy summer afternoon. That doesn't happen anymore. We are slowly but surely becoming robots, mere shells of the seeing, feeling, and absorbing humans we are meant to be. Because I know one thing, if there is beauty to be found inside a busy restaurant, imagine all the other things we are missing? Are we fully absorbing all the sounds and smells and things to see around us? Or are we constantly "on call," at the mercy of every text ding and message sent with frantic pace our way.

This experience at the most unlikely of places caused me to wake up. Figuratively and literally.

I searched the bookstore, one of the best places I know to fully absorb, and I found a little treasure of a book which is exactly what I was looking for. It is Hands Free Mama by Rachel Macy Stafford.

One of the first quotes in the book is by Dale Carnegie-

"One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon~instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today."

That Dale Carnegie was a smart guy.

I knew the book was going to be a winner, and it is. It will absolutely change your life.

I encourage everyone to read this book.

My first step is going to be making sure I am distraction free from the moment the boys get home until they go to bed. They will not remember me being distracted, they will remember my attention.

Now, does this mean that I will ignore a text before baseball changing
practice locations? Or course not. Does that mean I won't EVER take a quick picture of my child in his first baseball game of the year and quickly post it for some friends and family to share that moment? No.

But a necessary notification or a quick picture of a meaningful moment and mindless time consuming absorption are two different things.

I invite everyone to read Hands Free Mama with me. I really think it is going to be a life changer.

And please share any stories or moments you experience along the way.

Change is always more fun and easier with friends.

Seasons

My little man walks up to the plate,
Dragging his bat all the way.
He stands and waits for the ball to be pitched,
Drawing designs in the clay.

All eyes in the stands are upon him,
But he doesn't seem to care.
Bases are loaded, two outs on the board,
It's a lot for this mama to bear.

He slowly turns to look at me,
Sly grin upon his face.
He doesn't doubt his ability,
He knows he'll get on base.

The first swing he misses,
The second he swings too late.
A final strike and then he's out.
But he stays there at the plate.

He doesn't realize it's over,
'Til the ump gently nudges his side.
He slowly heads back off the field,
His disappointment is hard to hide.

Now he's in the outfield,
It's just beginning to rain.
But he's looking straight up in the sky,
"Oh look, there goes a plane!"

A few more innings pass,
And they lose 14-10.
I hope he's not too disappointed
That his night didn't end with a win.

He slowly heads toward me,
Equipment slung on his back
He breaks out in a huge, toothy grin.
"Hey Mom, what is there for snack?"

Seasons have come and seasons have gone,
And these fields I continue to roam.
Cheering him on from the stands,
This place is our second home.

Who is that running from second to third?
He isn't so small anymore.
The look of concentration,
In those big eyes I adore.

Now when I look at him,
The determination I see,
Gives me just a tiny glimpse,
Of the man that he will be.

I watch him now in the dugout,
Joking around with a friend.
He's learned so much more by now,
How to humbly lose and win.

He's learned about perseverance,
And what it means to be part of a team.
He knows you only get better,
When you continue to follow a dream.

Now as I stand in the ballpark,
I breathe the scent of the fresh cut grass.
So many seasons I've sat in these stands,
But they're going by way too fast.

So many lessons we've learned out here.
And memorable games we have won.
I realize with a tear of gratitude.
Baseball is helping me raise quite a son.


~ Dedicated to my precious boys!
I love you,
Mom

New Beginnings

January 1, always excites me.

Technically, it's no different than any other day, but it just screams "possibilities" to me. Possibilities for new and exciting things to happen. Possibilities for new ventures, choices, and priorities. There is just something about a new year that is exciting and fresh. It's funny how possibilities we hope for change as we mature and our perspectives change.

My list used to look something like this: This year I want to lose weight so I can feel good in a bikini this summer. I want to be more organized. I want to keep the house clean at all times, etc.

But time changes things.

For instance, this is not the year that I care to be able to wear a two-piece in the summer. This is the year I hope to feel better and stronger and be able to enjoy every second at Disney with my kids because I have more energy. And it will just be an added bonus if I'm able to wear a bathing suit without a skirt thingie attached.

It's the year I want to focus first and foremost on my family, even more fiercely than I always have, because time is moving forward at an incredibly breathtaking speed, and my children are my world. If my 'tween wants me to do something with him, I will drop the dust rag in mid-air, hurdle the couch, and run to his side because those moments he wants his Mom will become more and more fleeting as his focus begins to be more frequently on friends.

This will be the year I nurture that handful of life-changing female friendships that feed your soul as we navigate life together. Those friendships that weather all the trials of life, and though life changes and throws its share of curve balls, the love in those friendships never changes. I adore mine. We all need those "Golden Girls" we plan to sip tea with on the lanai.

And this is the first time that as the new year approaches, the need to simplify is burning like a fire within me. A dear friend of mine recently moved and downsized and simplified. As I walked into her home for the first time, I could literally feel peace wash over me. Everything in her home was deliberate and meaningful, something worth paying attention to for sure. Yet, the freedom from all of the hoards of stuff was freeing. It is something I want to try to duplicate this year. The sense of peace is worth it.

Also, this year I want to stop glorifying "busy." I am starting to realize that being busy doesn't mean you are important or more worthy or any of those things. It simply means you are busy, perhaps having less time for the more important, authentic things. And what is really good about that? Being busy only means less time for board games, walks, talking in front of the fireplace. This year I 'm going to try to be less busy.

Creativity will also take a front burner this year. I have truly come to believe that nurturing your creative spirit is the key to almost everything. Wherever your creativity lies...use it. I just know it's the key to happiness, and pretty much everything good flows from that. Now that I have a new printer to replace the broken one, I'm ready to send out manuscripts again. I've given up on the myth of perfection. My new motto is just to keep writing, and things will happen.

This year I am going to try to realize that a little love goes a long way. Small acts of kindness change the world. I know that in this over-reported, over-documented world, where every topic from small things to big things are debated in a social forum and opinions are spewed and venom is spewed, I'm going to remember that non-judgement and love go a long way.

This is pretty much my list for this new and exciting year. A list much different from years past. But I'm not going to pretend like some of my past wishes still don't bleed into the present. There is a part of me that would really love to not just get stronger but also see that scale go down 25 pounds. But if I get healthier and stronger and that doesn't happen, I will just fall back on the wise words of a friend who told me that she read that if you carry a big purse it makes you look smaller. Maybe I will just see what's new in 2014's line of Samsonite duffels.

Happy New Year Everyone!

Please share your hopes for 2014. I would love to hear them!

Melissa

Still

Tonight was the best night.

No one was cooking. No one was shopping. No last minute wrapping. And no one was fooling around with Christmas presents. No one was taking something somewhere or trying to get somewhere on time.

We all just were.

Every single one of us sitting in the den. Nothing planned. No movie. No TV show. Not even a board game.

We all just sat and breathed, and relaxed, and talked, and laughed. That's it. But hours of it. Uninterrupted. And it was wonderful.

We were silly, even playing songs on my iPhone and seeing who could guess the songs first. And songs all have stories and memories and so on...

And now, everyone has gone to bed because they have to drive home tomorrow.

But one thing is for sure. Next Christmas there will be less doing and more being.

Because tonight is what Christmas with family should be like.

Happy New Year Everyone!