Learnings in Life

Over the past year, my approach to prayer has evolved, and if I may say so, it’s for the better. 

The turning point came in March, from an incident at work. After 5 1/2 years with the same company, during which I developed deep respect and so many amazing friendships, I had a situation happen where a leader I loved and respected thoroughly embarrassed and disrespected me by replacing me on an important project I was leading (and to make matters worse, I found out  about this change in an email sent to a large team). I won’t dive into the gory details, but it was the most humiliating and hurtful experience I’ve had in nearly 30 years of my professional life. You know, one where there were tears involved…. for days. Looking back, it was just a dumb work issue that I should have shrugged off, but at the time, it felt like a personal apocalypse.

I mean, how the whole situation was handled, resulted in me spinning it uncontrollably in my mind and worrying incessantly. Instead of being able to focus on work or family, my mind was filled with self-defeating thoughts and questions. I started worrying about how we, as a team, could meet our business goals without me leading this project. I worried about what my peers were saying about me or thinking about me now that this leader took me off this project. I started questioning my own skillset and value, all because of how this leader had treated me during this situation. 

In the past, whenever I’ve been spiraling in my mind about some issue in life, my go-to response for such upsets was prayer. Being a lifelong Christian, I’ve always turned to prayer as my emotional Swiss Army knife. Before this ordeal, my prayers typically sounded like, “Dear God, help me sort this out with this leader. Help me find the right words to get through to this leader. Help me find a way to still positively impact results so that I’m hitting my targets for the year. Please help me get stronger skillsets where I’m not strong enough.” 

So, my point is that I was quite directive, asking God in my prayers to help me with MY plan. 

However, with this specific issue, after praying like I’ve always prayed, and after a week of stress that could’ve earned me a spot on a reality TV show, I realized my old way of praying wasn’t working. So, I sought advice from friends, my family, my sister, and then I began binge-watching sermons by Pastor Mark Driscoll—my new spiritual YouTuber. And as a result, I changed my prayer style completely. My new approach was short, sweet, and to the point: “Dear God, I’m giving this problem to you and trusting you to handle it. Amen.”

Lo and behold, within a month of this newfound simplicity, blessings started rolling in. First, I got a public apology from one of the executives involved and the reinstatement of my project leadership. I was shocked—if you’ve ever seen an executive publicly admit fault, you’d know it’s a rarer sight than a unicorn. On top of that, I had been casually job hunting (for various reasons, even before this issue), and within a month of my prayer makeover, I landed a higher-level more challenging position in a new company that made me do a little happy dance. I’m thrilled to start this new role in September.

At home, I’ve seen similar divine intervention. Issues with my kids’ behavior started showing improvement, and the right tutoring support for their summer and school year fell into place effortlessly. I’m currently praying about a challenging denominational issue at my church and hoping for more of the same positive results.

I often wonder how non-believers manage adulthood without the support of prayer. As I get older, I realize my faith isn’t just a comfort; it’s what keeps my life and heart full. It’s my rock in life’s valleys and the reason my stress levels aren’t through the roof. With Him by my side, I can handle almost anything.

Now, as we head into the notoriously chaotic election season, I’ve decided to spend more time praying and less time blogging (like the last election cycle). In the past, I’ve found solace in writing blogs to share my views and rally those who agree with me, but this year, I’m shifting gears. My focus will be on seeking peace and guidance through prayer rather than pouring my thoughts into blog posts. Well, at least not as many blog posts:) 

Not only will I be praying more than blogging, I’ll be trying to pray in my new less directive way. Prior to changing my prayer style, this would’ve been my prayer for the election cycle:

“Dear God, I trust you to bring forth the right candidate for this election. I’ve already seen your blessings in action, from your divine protection of President Trump to his growth and focus on unity. Your influence is clear in the increased public discussion and acceptance of Christianity.

Please shake those people voting for Kamala just because she smiles & laughs, to remind them we’re not voting for the “Most Joyous”—-this is a serious vote that results in either the continued decline or the turnaround success of our country.

Please remind those who are hung up on the abortion issue, that this topic is merely a sliver of what they should be considering when determining the right candidate. There are so many more variables, skillsets, and needs for our country to pull up out of this tailspin. And, please remind these folks that they need to make sure they understand where each candidate truly stands on abortion, not what the mainstream media has told them.

Please guide those who don’t support President Trump to recognize his growth as a leader and see how the media and the left continue to misrepresent his words and intentions. Help them remember the struggles many have faced over the recent years under Kamala Harris’s administration—like job losses, depleted savings, and escalating woke agendas in schools—and help them envision the potential radical changes if she were to become president. Please help them recognize, that they don’t have to guess how Kamala will lead; that they can just look at the tragic current state of our country and know she was at the helm for the last 4 years. 

If anyone can open eyes and change hearts, it’s you, Lord. 

Thank you, Lord, for your strength and guidance. Amen.”

But like my lesson earlier this year, my prayer shouldn’t be directive. In reality, I don’t know God’s plan. There is no doubt in my mind, that God has his hand on Trump.  But I don’t know if that means Trump will win or not.  God may still have other sacrifices, challenges, and obstacles for him to face as part of a greater journey.  So my new prayer for this election cycle is:

“God, as we approach this chaotic election cycle, we trust that You are working through Donald Trump and other public figures to spread Your word to a country gone astray.  

We trust and submit to Your will on how that plan will be brought to life.  

Between now and then help us to realize how You want to use each of us in bringing Your Word back to the center of this nation and to also be brave enough to act on it. 

Amen.”

So, anywho, here’s to more non-directive prayers and fewer blog posts—because in the grand scheme of things, divine intervention is definitely a more effective stress-reliever than a well-crafted blog!

I know this is a horribly sad day for many people out there. Those whom have lost their momma’s, and those momma’s whom have lost any of their babies … and “lost” can take on many meanings.

And I don’t take their pain lightly. I sit on the sidelines and watch their grief & strength, and pray to be as strong as they are one day.

Their pain provides such a clear picture of the fragility of life, and of the blessings we are all wrapped in each day.

For me, the thought of that form of unbearable sadness is like a giant hungry bear chasing me…. and I can’t stop running.

This metaphorical run for me is the process of making memories. I know there’s a chance that one day, before I meet my Maker, I’m gonna get my arse chomped by that bear and suffer incomprehensible pain from the loss of a loved one…but in the meantime, I’m gonna keep my eyes focused on soaking up as much love as I possibly can on the run of life…

How many more mornings can I snuggle my babies, who still sneak into my nooks in the middle of the night?

How many more mornings, after I drop my kids off at school, can I call and jabber with my momma about nothing?

How many more car rides can we take where I reach my hand back and just hold on to one of my girl’s little feet… just to feel their energy through me?

How many more times will we have holidays with all little kids who mainly just want to hang out with us?

How many more times can I call my mom and ask her a random life lesson on plants or a recipe or pets?

How many more times will my littles reach out and wrap their hands around my pointer finger when we are walking?

How many more times will my littles crawl on top of my lap and fall asleep on me?

How many more baby hugs are there to be gotten?

How many more times will I get to sit and hear my momma tell stories about how it was for her growing up?

How many more cries are there, that only I can calm for my babies?

How many more times will my momma and I get to clear a dance floor with our wide-berth dancing😂?

How many more times will my kids ask me for an “attack” (30 seconds of rapid fire kisses on their neck, cheeks, or lips) when I drop them off at school?

And although we are all healthy and happy and carefree, with no bears on the horizon….

It all goes by so fast.

Slow days, fast years.

I’ll just be over here running… soaking in as much love & fun & memories as I possibly can…. for the foreseeable future.

#happymothersday

Anyone who knows me, knows that I spend a good portion of my life attempting to stay in shape. This gets harder as I get older, but I refuse to go down without a fight.

There is a big portion of my “why” that comes from pure vanity, just wanting to look good or better.

There is another big portion of my “why” that comes from wanting to be strong enough to just do life’s tasks. A bag of dog food is 40 lbs; I can carry it on my shoulder and dump it in our dog food bin. A bag of chicken food is 50 lbs; I can carry it on my shoulder and dump it in our chicken food bin. My kids are in the 40-60 lb range; I can carry them.

The last big portion of my “why” is that I want my girls to see how to grow up strong… notice the word choice is strong & not thin.

I think interest in fitness & body image are strongly-influenced by our own individual upbringings and experiences. For example, my parents have always worked out, and they tried their best to encourage their kiddos to participate in their workouts. I remember waking up around 5 am as a middle-schooler running laps with my mom around the subdivision meadow. I remember running 5Ks in high school with my dad. I remember going to the YMCA when I was on Christmas break with my dad. I remember every day of our family vacation (including up to present day vacations) starting the day with my folks on a run or walk. These family habits had me involved in track & dance through college, and fitness there on after. So, it’s in my DNA to stay active, thanks to how I was raised.

But I also have had numerous life experiences that affected my view on fitness & body image:

1. My first pregnancy was rough, and required me to stay bedridden for 3+ months. When I finally delivered and got home, my feet were struggling to support the additional weight I had gained. I think it took close to a year for my heels not to hurt. That entire experience taught me what a gift it was being able to move and workout, and how I should never take it for granted.

2. I was a lifeguard in high school and in the military for 10 years after that. Both required a uniform. Both situations resulted in my body & how I fit in said-uniform to be compared to others bodies & how they fit. Those moments were probably when I learned to be critical about my body; when my self-talk changed from my childhood love of my body, to worrying about keeping up with other people’s bodies. These experiences taught me to worry about my weight.

3. When I got out of the Coast Guard, I wanted a new fitness challenge so I jumped into marathons. I loved the experience & the quiet & the feeling of accomplishment when I finished. In a few years I had finished 2 half marathons (Key West & STL) and 2 full marathons (Kansas City & Quebec City). These experiences taught me that you don’t get good muscle definition from just running, and that marathons were really hard on my knees & feet…

4. So then my big switch in my 30s was when I switched from marathons to fitness competitions. I’ve completed 3 now, and I loved the results and how it changed my body. But I didn’t like the restrictive diet and how I felt I had to plan each and every interaction with humans so that only the right food/drink went in my body. These experiences taught me how important lifting and diet are to maintaining a healthy BMI.

So you roll all of those experiences together & where does that put me with body image.

Well, let me start my saying life humbles you. I’m in my mid-40s now, and although I still wear a bikini on the beach I am well aware that I have more jiggle in my wiggle than I did as a 20 year old.

I think the most important things we need to teach ourselves and our children about fitness & maintaining a healthy body image are:

The DO’s-

DO stay active every single day. Do this by finding some form of cardio that you enjoy and make it a habit. Don’t start out crazy with huge goals, start small like 20-30 min a day and stay active. This will help every facet of your life: mood, energy, strength, peace, etc.

DO add weightlifting to your workout routine. Cardio is great for losing weight, but weightlifting will define your shape.

DO get sleep. There’s the obvious benefits to sleep that you can google … but to me, if you aren’t rested, you can kiss staying active goodbye. It will be the first thing you cut out of your day.

DO learn to love where you are in your fitness journey. This is easier said than done. I look back at fitness competition pictures with sad eyes sometimes… knowing the extra 20-30 lbs on my body nowadays is covering up some lean muscle. But I recognize the annoying level of commitment that that took, and resulted in what I would consider unhealthy eating habits. I love where I am fitness-wise because I feel strong and I eat healthy 60-70% of the time.

DO focus on protein vs calories. Try to eat 75% of your weight in grams of protein. Teach your kids about protein on labels not calories.

DO focus on consuming your weight in oz of water.

DO forgive yourself if you fall off your fitness plan. Don’t give up, get back at it.

The DON’Ts

DON’T compare your shape to others, nor teach your children to judge theirs to others. I think teaching our children to live healthy active lifestyles is critical. If they learn that, they should have strong healthy bodies that they love. Their bodies may have an extra roll than the “norm”, or may grow up to have more stretch marks than the “norm”, or may have more jiggle than the “norm”…. but it’s their strong healthy body. If you change how you think and talk about your body in front of your children, instead of hating their bodies that may not fit in single-digit sizes, they will love their bodies. They will love their bodies because they’ll realize their strength allowed them to compete in athletics, and play kickball with their kids, and swim in the ocean with their family, and carry their child on their shoulders.

DON’T talk (or worry about) sizes or weight numbers. Talk strength. I weigh anywhere around 165-175 lbs. As a 5’9” woman that weight is healthy, and lands me in a 10-12 size. I’ve been in this weight/height range since high school. Sadly, I grew up knowing those numbers should be lower… that most girls my age were 120-130 lbs and size 4-6. In fact, I was told repeatedly as a young girl, 5’ equals 100 lbs, and each additional inch above 5’ equals 5 lbs. That would equate to me weighing 145 lbs. Now, 145 lbs is achievable at my height, but that is my competition weight, when my body fat % is close to 10%. That guideline didn’t take into account muscle mass. Talk strength, not size.

DON’T talk about how others look. Yesterday, People Magazine posted a picture/article about a celebrity (one of the Baldwin kids) holding her new-ish born baby. She was in lingerie (which I agree was a titch odd, but most celebrities are odd), and she was lifting her baby in the air, smiling. The comments were horrific. Every single human (sadly, mostly women) blasted her for promoting an unrealistic and unhealthy body image. They had no idea if she had been busting her arse trying to lose the baby weight, they didn’t know if her genetics just tend to result in a slimmer figure, they just assumed she lost weight in an unhealthy manner and slammed the crap out of her. You will never get control of your own body image by tearing others down. If you teach your children to judge others weight, shape, size, they’ll soon start judging their own.

DON’T discourage people on their fitness journeys. I remember when I started posting workouts (for my own accountability) that I had several “haters” make fun of me. I’m too old to care at this point, but at the time it really sucked.

DON’T promote an unhealthy lifestyle because getting in shape is too hard. Back to the People Magazine example, there were plenty of comments stating the normal mom keeps the baby weight around for years after delivery. Now, if you think promoting not getting yourself back in shape after childbirth is healthy you’re being just as harmful. We shouldn’t teach our children being obese is ok, because losing weight is hard. There’s a fine line between teaching our kids to love their bodies, while also encouraging them to be fit & healthy. We need to learn how to teach our children that being strong is critical in life—-physically & emotionally.

It’s not about size.

It’s not about calories.

It’s not about what others look like.

It’s about strength.

Get after it…

And don’t forget to support those around you who are getting after it too.

#bestrong

Loss changes you.

It flat out changes the person that you’ve grown up to be.

Just stop and think of every little, tiny thing that you can right now …that you’ve lost at one point in life.

Your keys.

Your purse.

Your phone.

Your job.

Your friend.

Your girlfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Your car in the airport parking lot.

Your damn beagles.

However minor or meaningless the loss was, and/or however short the timeframe of losing it was, I bet it still changed you.

I can hear myself now:

“Lindsey, you have to always put your keys in the bowl by the door so you aren’t looking for them.”

Or

“Lindsey, you have to write the parking spot down in your phone before you leave your car at the airport.”

Or

“Lindsey, you have to double-check the lock is secure on the beagle cage every single night.”

My point—the smallest of losses still cause us to pause and change our behavior. Surprisingly, despite being that type of trivial loss, it still causes us anxiety, irritation, and usually a delay in getting somewhere on time. So we make a promise to ourselves to avoid that in the future.

And sometimes we keep that promise.

Sometimes we don’t… and history repeats itself.

But regardless, we survive those little losses.

And then life introduces you to your reserve strength. Life says—let me help this poor soul realize how much their faith can be waivering one day from lack of focus & attention, and then it can be their only North Star, the next.

Life presents to you… real loss.

Real loss in almost every definition in my book involves a human.

It’s hard to say what is the worst human to lose. I think it depends on your own circumstances, and your own relationships.

But losing an important human in your life can be the biggest heartache, and truly the biggest soul hurt you ever experience.

Now as someone who has only lost older family members, a few friends/co-workers, and no immediate member of my family, my perspective will be different than others, I’m sure.

But here is what I know about grief:

You have to survive 2 main phases: hard-core grief & then life afterwards.

The hard-core grief is the most intense & the scariest. I felt like I lost 2-3 months in a thick fog of the deepest part of this grief, and then slowly drifted back to the surface of life by about a year after the loss. Those 2-3 months… I honestly can barely remember. I felt like friends and family gently nudged me to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but also reminded me that this wasn’t a time to try and jog. Walk it out. Breathe and walk—my main 2 goals during the hard core grief period.

But honestly, that whole first year was filled with random bouts of crying, guilt, fear, family-stress. I could be in the cereal aisle, and I’d see a brand that reminded me of him and I’d just start sobbing. It would make no sense, it wasn’t logical. It made my husband nervous to speak to me:) But honestly, it was a phase I had to fully experience in order to survive.

I guess the main pieces of advice I could give from my perspective for the hard-core grief phase would be:

1. Intentionally focus on & capture happy loving moments with your family.

2. Workout, even lightly, to keep your depression/anxiety in check.

3. Keep talking or writing or singing about the person you lost. It helped process ALL the feelings by letting my friends & family know the emotional details of my grief.

4. Look for signs from above, and write them down. It helps to remember those signs later down the road.

5. Pray. A lot. And out loud.

Now surviving life after the hard-core grief is different. You may not feel as raw as you once did. Your trigger might not get tripped every time any memory floats in and out of your brain.

Life just continues with less volume.

Less brightness.

Less love.

Less of your tribe.

But I guess if I really think about it, the only advice, and the most calming thing I do, is to continue to honor the person. Having regular visits to his gravesite, writing blogs/songs, having the girls make him something to put on his grave…basically keeping his memory as part of our family. I love to remind the girls by saying, “Man, remember when Paca went here with us? I wonder what he’d order this time if he was here?” Just to watch their eyes light up and remember him, and try and relate to him in his next actions. I want them… well really, I need them to remember.

This phase of grief also has a tone change from the hard core grief phase. The tone changes from your own sadness and selfish desires of having the person back, to a tone of sharing happy memories in an attempt that the person is never forgotten.

Bottom line: Real loss is the most important life lesson you will experience.

The primary lesson is pretty simple & obvious—-don’t take life for granted. When you love someone say it. Never go to bed angry because tomorrow isn’t promised. Ya know, all the standards loss cliches.

I personally feel like the lessons I’ve learned from loss, all surround the people left here on earth after the loss. I’ve noticed that I now question my own actions a lot. And it really comes down to one basic question for my loved ones—if this is my last day or your last day on earth, did I handle the day right? Meaning, was I compassionate enough? Did I choose spending time with you or calling you over my to-do list? Was I listening closely enough to any angst on your mind, or did I let the busyness of life fog over our conversations?

I’ve noticed it has even made me pause and slow my roll with strangers. If someone in public is struggling with physically picking something up or moving something, did I stop and help them? If someone working in retail or a restaurant looks down or distressed or fogged over, did I ask them if they are ok or if I can help? Did I actually look at people today and make eye contact and smile? To me the scariest part of our quarantined/masked-up lives, is that people no longer make eye contact, or chit chat in the grocery line. We avoid each other like the plague. How many people that really needed someone to ask them how they’re doing, have gotten passed by today?

And honestly, I have to hope that as my littles watch me, they are learning how human-relationships trump any time-do list as well, right?

Loss is life-changing.

Loss is weird.

We all know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it will come to the doorstep of us all. I mean, really, it’s truly like taxes.

But regardless of what we know, regardless of what we’ve learned in life, regardless of what we see out our windshield or even in the rearview mirror, real loss is truly a sinkhole in life many of us struggle to ever climb out of.

That’s when our human interaction needs to kick in. We all end up in that damn sinkhole, every once in awhile you have to throw the rescue line… and every once in a while you have to be willing to catch it.

Keep an eye out folks. Be ready for that line, regardless if you’re pitching or catching.

Goodbye, Remote-Learning. Hello, Montessori Academy.

After a rough week of attempted Kindergarten & 2nd grade remote-learning, a tone-deaf & condescending email was sent out to all parents in Chayce’s school.

The email thanked parents for helping get their kids logged onto zoom for the day (as if that is all the work parents did), and then (IMO) it went on to reprimand students/parents. The email clarified (1) all the rules around how students should act & dress & behave on zoom, (2) that parents must ensure all homework is submitted by 1159 each night the day it was assigned or it won’t be counted, and (3) that parents must not try and communicate with teachers after hours because this is stressful/hard on teachers right now.

Well, no shit. I don’t doubt how hard it is being a teacher right now. But, let’s be honest, it’s been incredibly hard on everyone involved, especially the children, so I personally would’ve held off on sending a note out that basically felt like a 1-2-punch to most working families. Maybe something like “Holy smokes, I can’t believe all of you parents have been able to do 2 full time jobs in the same amount of hours?” Or….”I know this was rough, but we are in this together, just breathe.” Or… “Hey, if your kid didn’t get logged in, or you missed an assignment …. no biggy, this was week 1… we’ll get better.”

Nope, not Alton. Cool.

We. Out. Anyways.

But not till I vented a bit to the principal:

I very much appreciate what you are trying to accomplish with remote-learning, but I need to share my point of view. 

We are essentially handcuffing our working parents, and making then choose between: (1) quitting their jobs, (2) leaving their young children to fend for themselves during these livestream calls, or (3) hire someone to be next to them all day. My family is in a position where we can afford to hire someone, and even then it’s been impossible to manage all the requests/needs coming from the classroom. I can’t even imagine all the other families out there that are trying to juggle work but can’t afford to pay for additional childcare (nor should they even be asked to, because they’ve already paid for their child’s education through taxes).

So as much as I appreciate your note, the tone is so inappropriate. Most working moms I’ve talked to have broken down at least once this week, have failed miserably at their jobs while attempting to juggle this additional huge responsibility, and have gone to bed each night considering if they should pull their children from school all-together. 

I know I personally am considering any other option that will allow me to keep my job and keep my children learning in a socially-interactive & positive atmosphere.

So forgive me, if I don’t thank you for your email which dictated more rules, more communication obstacles, and frankly a very one-sided (teacher-sided) concerned tone.

Hopefully you understand this is requiring so much than “helping your child to logon to their Zoom call daily.” And perhaps you’ll pause before sending a tone-deaf note to your hardworking parents.

Please feel free to call me to discuss anytime.

V/r 

Lindsey Spahr

0400- Her alarm goes off.

0410- She starts working feverishly on her laptop because she is way behind for several important deadlines… and these first 2 hours are the only quiet hours in the day.

0600- Her reminder goes off on her outlook calendar, so she puts her laptop down & heads out to the gym.

0700- Her first work call starts while she finishes her cardio on her treadmill.

0800- Her babysitter arrives & gets the kids some breakfast & dressed & ready for “school”.

0815- She runs in from the gym & quickly showers & dresses for the day.

0830- She grabs a protein shake & heads into her “office” (aka room with a door on it) to hop on her next meeting.

0850- Babysitter starts to try & log kids in for their 1st zoom calls of the day. One gets in, one is locked out.

0851- She gets a text from the babysitter, “Can’t get into Mrs. Fs zoom”.

0852- After turning off her camera and switching her call to her phone & earbuds, she trots into the “2nd grade classroom” (aka the dining room) to troubleshoot & cuss a lot.

0902- She finally gets the child logged in.

0905- She arrives 5 min late to a leadership meeting with her boss.

0908- She gets a text from the babysitter that the oldest child just got kicked off the zoom call for some unknown reason.

0910- After turning off her camera and switching her call to her phone & earbuds, she trots into the “2nd grade classroom” to try and get her child logged in again, cussing loudly now.

0915- Her boss asks her a question, which she has to ask him to repeat because she clearly didn’t hear him.

0919- After several texts back & forth with the teacher, she gets her oldest logged back in.

0920- She’s back in her “office” finishing up the meeting, when she hears yelling. She peeks her head out the door to see her youngest screaming at her classmates on the computer screen. She goes back to her meeting.

0930- Think time! Finally, so much work that she needs to catch up on.

0950- Babysitter starts to try & log kids in for their 2nd zoom calls of the day. One gets in, one is locked out.

0953- She gets a text from the babysitter, “Can’t get into Mrs. Fs zoom”.

0955- She trots into the “2nd grade classroom” to troubleshoot & you guessed it…. cuss.

1004- After several texts back & forth with the teacher, she gets her oldest logged back in.

1006- She arrives 6 min late to a meeting she is supposed to be leading. Great Leadership!

1045- She gets a reminder from the teacher on what homework needs to be completed.

1047- She texts the babysitter the homework instructions.

1100- She starts an important meeting where she needs to be able to really think/concentrate.

1103- She gets a text from the babysitter asking if the kids can have PB&J for lunch.

1104- She responds yes.

1115- She hears yelling.

1116- The babysitter sends a text informing her that she has sent the youngest to timeout for cussing (hmmmm wonder where she got that life skill).

1120- Reminder from the youngest’s teacher thanking parents for another great day, and not to forget to take pics of homework and submit it.

1121- She texts the babysitter and asks her to take pics of all homework assignments.

1135- 5 homework pics arrive via text.

1137- 5 homework pic uploaded to school app.

1150- Babysitter logs oldest in for final zoom call of the day. She actually gets in! Woohoo!

1230- Reminder from the oldest’s teacher thanking parents for another great day, and not to forget to take pics of homework and submit it.

1231- She texts the babysitter and asks her to take pics of all homework assignments.

1250- Babysitter texts to say she can’t get in “math app”, and that she reached out to the teacher already. A ticket has been put in IT.

1315- 6 homework pics come in via text.

1317- 6 homework pic uploaded to school app.

1400- Babysitter leaves, because 6 hours a day and 5 days a week is already costing $1200/month… not to mention the extra cost of hotspots for internet out in the boonies.

1445- In the middle of an important gap analysis zoom call, her youngest walks into her “office” crying because a kitty scratched her. She mutes her zoom call, kisses the boo-boo and sends her on her way, quickly.

1510- In the middle of an important interview zoom call, youngest walks into her “office” talking loudly. She snaps her fingers and yells at her child to get out!

1546- In the middle of an important project plan zoom call, her oldest walks in, to just hug & kiss her legs. She snaps her fingers and yells at her child to get out!

1600- She hears her husband get home. After a few muffled grumps, she hears him go outside WITHOUT TAKING THE CHILDREN.

1602- She considers murdering her husband.

1605- Last hour of the day —- think time. Time to catch up on everything she got behind on today.

1610- Her kids are fighting in the living room. She runs to break up the fight.

1615- Her youngest comes into her “office” and lays down on the couch next to her and says, “I love you, Mom.” Her youngest starts crying—-she is tired of being sent away by her mom.

1616- She closes her laptop, and just holds her youngest. She thinks back through her day, realizing she never completed a full thought. All the texting, and reminding, and logging in, wasted away every quiet minute. Her to-do list for the day looks just as long as it did in the morning. But at this particular hour… this particular moment—-her kiddos needed their mom. So she holds tight.

1700- She gets up to get kids dinner.

1800- Time to do the outside chores as a family.

1900- Bath time.

2000- Snuggles.

2130- Everyone is fast asleep.

0400- Her alarm goes off.

0410- She starts working feverishly on her laptop because she is way behind for several important deadlines… and these first 2 hours are the only quiet hours in the day.

Welcome to remote learning, where:

1. Our children are missing out on important socialization skills & interaction & actually learning from a trained educator,

And

2. Parents with kids under 10 years of age can choose to (1) quit their jobs, or (2) hire someone to “manage” their home…. and it will still be unbearably difficult for all involved.

All for less than 0.02%. Cool.

#beafuckinglion

#bealionbeforeitstoolate

I. Am. Angry.

Soooo angry.

Woke up angry.

Picture Sally Fields at the grave scene in Steel Magnolias …“I’m so mad I just want to hit something”…

So here I am… hitting something.

I workout to work out the anger.

Now I’m getting my 3 miles in on my treadmill, typing with one thumb… because (1) I’m old and I type w/one thumb, and (2) because I need to make sure these steps are counting by swinging my other arm. 😂

Anywho, why am I angry?

You may care, you may not.

Regardless, if you don’t keep scrolling past this post you’re gonna hear why…

Some of these are fair things to be angry about… some not so much… some reasons contradict other reasons… but regardless they’re still adding to my pissy mood.

I start out slow and silly with my reasons of anger, and then pick up the pace towards our current culture rather quickly. PSA: I’m a sailor at heart… do not continue to read if you’re offended by bad language.

I’m angry:

Because my children are growing up too fast.

Because of mom-brain.

Because the best foods like pizza and tacos are the worst foods.

Because despite my best warrior tactics I keep getting older.

Because my gym was littered with all sorts of Barbie toys this morning.

Because my damn beagles love to runaway.

Because my husband… I’m not sure why I’m angry at him right now but I’ll think of a good reason by the time he gets home😂

Because I will get responses to this post that say “you should be sweeter to your husband” or “you should really be counting your blessings”…

Because of COVID19.

Because I’m certain this quarantine is going to affect my kids’ education & development.

Because my friends & family & so many others are being financially destroyed by this virus.

Because I miss people.

Because I miss big backyard get-togethers.

Because I miss girls-nights.

Because I miss hole-in-the-wall bars stocked with natty light & a jukebox.

Because of the CDC.

Because people feel the right to tell others how to love, live, and exist.

Because of George Floyd’s inhumane death.

Because of every fucking form of discrimination.

Because people reading this will be offended by my language.

Because every beautiful, respectful, and brave police officer is willingly continuing to protect us, knowing damn well that they have a target on their heads.

Because of how scared every police officer’s family has to be right now.

Because of injustice.

Because of assholes.

Because of how many of my Black American friends & coworkers (& those I don’t know) have had to grow up with systemic racism.

Because of how many of my Black American friends & coworkers (and those I don’t know) have had to grow up scared because of the color of their skin.

Because I will never have the right words of comfort for this situation.

Because of the destruction, violence, and looting.

Because no one can say they’re against destruction, violence, and looting without being called tone deaf or racist.

Because no other discrimination has been used as a platform that allows destruction of cities.

Because no one is allowed to openly talk about our country’s race issue without being blasted.

Because of the word privilege.

Because I was raised by a blue collar family that started out in a trailer … and I earned every inch of my life.

Because someone will feel the need to school me on the word privilege.

Because of all the holier-than-thou posts from white people that bash white people in general or that start out with “If you need me to help you understand black people…” (I am not talking about those that have a family that includes Black Americans and have lived with discrimination).

Because of all the mean-spirited, hate-filled posts… in any direction.

Because of all the people I’ve had to unfriend because they’d rather spew hate than help find the right path forward…. and because my soul can’t take one more drip of hate.

Because celebrities won’t just shut up and listen.

Because we aren’t focused on solutions.

Because the wrong agendas are being pushed by the wrong people, which is impeding the right solution for our country.

Because 100% of us agree that George Floyd’s death was wrong, but 0% can agree on the next right step or solution.

Because our beautiful country & thriving economy are being destroyed throughout all of this mayhem.

Because nowadays, it feels like (even as a veteran) you can’t be pro-America, truly patriotic, and proud to be an American without being called racist.

Because the government keeps getting bigger.

Because our freedoms keep getting smaller.

Because of face masks.

Because of the mainstream media.

Because of that fucking Wuhan lab.

Because it’s truly always about politics.

And because it’s only Thursday of a long damn week.

At 5 pm yesterday, my jeep tires hit the gravel drive, flinging rocks as I reversed up next to the shed. I rolled down my window and gave some “pleasant” parting words to my husband, and then sped away down the driveway as fast as my wheels would carry me. 

Five minutes later, I was on the couch of one of my best friends. It took about a half second of me trying to act like everything was fine, before I started sobbing. For the next hour I vented to her, explaining how difficult life had become in the last 10 days. After that hour, I finally started to relax, feeling the pressure that had built up inside me that afternoon finally start to subside. She and I then watched a scary movie (one of my favorite pastimes), laughing and shrieking together, while I knocked back a couple soothing cocktails. 

I pulled back in my garage around 8 pm. I walked into our home; the war zone that I had just barely escaped from that afternoon. As I opened the door leading into the kitchen, everything looked much differently than how it did when I left a few hours earlier. Rooms that were previously covered in dishes, sticky-stuff, toys, broken-dolls, trash, half-eaten snacks, and crinkled papers, were now straightened up and clean. Kids that were fighting and crying and talking back and throwing tantrums, were now sitting pleasantly at the table with their dad doing their homework. I hated to interrupt the moment, but softly asked my husband to accompany me outside. A man who would normally give me a hard time about that request, quietly got up and followed me out to the garage like a beaten dog and got in my jeep with me.

I spent the next 30 minutes (out of the earshot of my kiddos) trying my best to explain to him what my last couple of weeks were like. Why I had fled our home tonight, like I was being chased by an angry mob, for a few hours of peace and quiet and sanity. Why I need his help differently than I have in the past.

This was my first COVID breakdown. This was hopefully my only COVID breakdown.

I have had friends tell me about their COVID emotional breakdowns regularly over the last couple weeks. Some friends have opened up to me about their anxieties about the virus. Some friends have talked to me how they are going stir-crazy and that the restrictions are stressing them out. Some are struggling with dealing with homework requirements at night. Some are stressed because they can’t work now, based on their profession/location. Some have lost their jobs or have had their hours cut back significantly. Some are worried about losing their homes because they aren’t making any money now. Some are too worried to visit anyone or anyplace and are lonely. Some are worried about the parents, their families, their friends.

Regardless of their situations, this time is hard. It. Is. Hard.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are so many silver-linings to this wonderful slow-down in life we are experiencing right now. I feel so lucky to be sharing more moments with my babies… more snuggles, more sunsets, more sunrises, more homework time, more wakeups, more laughing. There’s less rushing them around, less hurrying them through tasks in the morning, less cutting them off to push them into their car seat so we aren’t late for school. I can tell you I have appreciated all these simple yet amazing silver-linings, and have breathed in all of the moments I would’ve normally been too busy to notice.

Regardless, this time is hard. It. Is. Hard.

And all of our hards are slightly different from each other. All of our situations vary slightly from the person next to us. My hard is unique to most of the people I work with or am friends with… unique in one way or another. I am able to work from home. My job can be done from my laptop on my couch any day of the year. I have been working from home a couple days a week for the last year, so this change was not stressful to me. So I am currently working full time from home. My job requires almost non-stop zoom meetings throughout the day. It’s a stressful, competitive position and I love it. My situation also involves the decision I made to keep my kiddos home. Their school is closed, and I decided instead of finding a babysitter, I wanted to keep them protected away from others by keeping them home with me. My situation involves my kiddos being 4 yo and 6 yo. My situation involves my husband having to work at a plant where essential work is done. So that is my situation—I work from home fulltime in a relatively stressful position, with 2 little young kids, and with my husband out of the house 12 hours a day.

I can attest, that my personal situation has been really hard. Not harder than anyone else…. But hard. I feel pressure to be an amazing homeschool teacher (or in the very least a good mother). I feel pressure to be a strong employee, driving change & improvement in this chaotic time. What I was finally able to put into words for my husband last night was:

This isn’t a situation where I am at home with my babies getting to enjoy them all day, and teach them, and experience new things with them, and laugh with them. 

This is me working on my computer all day long while I shoo my kids away, because my colleagues are looking at me through the screen expecting me to be clear and to deliver. 

This is me working for a company where there is tremendous risk and pressure and opportunities and changes… all depending on my work effort, intelligence, and focus…. more now than ever.

This is me having to work more hours than I have ever worked, into the evening, into the weekends, and anytime I have the chance to catch up.

This is my children seeing me at home, wanting to interact with me at home, and being pushed away for most of the day.

This is me trying to think through complex business issues, while my kids rush into the room that I’ve locked myself into…. me yelling at them to go away…. and then trying to remember where my brain was a few minutes ago, when I had a solution right on the tip of my tongue.

This is my children seeing me on zoom and wanting to be on zoom too. Therefore, this means as many times as they can, they will try and come in and put their hands or toys or face in front of my work screen.

This is me feeling like a failure as an employee because I can sense irritation from co-workers when my kids interrupt YET another important meeting.

This is me dealing with certain co-workers who do not have children, who can’t comprehend the depths of embarrassment these interruptions bring to parents…. and these co-workers responding with rushed responses of frustration or careless comments like #lifechoices.

This is me trying to set-up a perfect schedule, with crafts, and fitness breaks, and a couple small talking breaks, and Pinterest-motivating kid rewards, and lots of snacks, and scheduled nap time…. Only to realize these activities only happen when there is someone in charge. 

This is me, between meetings, trying to keep up with stay-at-home-moms, who post perfect pictures on the classroom FB page of their kids doing their homework, building legostructures, and playing dress-up.

This is me trying to get my kids on their classroom zooms, so my girls can participate in school activities, while I am trying to juggle attending my own zoom at the same time in the other room.

This is me accepting that my children will be unattended all day. Unsafely unattended all day. Unsafely and destructively unattended all day. 

This is me realizing that by 2 pm, my darling littles will have put up with their mother telling them to leave the room for 6 hours straight and will finally take matters into their own hands to get my attention—-because they are 4 and 6, after all. 

This is me realizing that when they take matters into their own hands, they will start hitting, and crying, and fighting, and breaking things, and putting markers on furniture, and tearing up homework, etc. Anything they can think of to get their mother to pay attention to them. 

This is me not being in charge. This is me pretending to be in charge, while I have 80% of my brain on my screen, and the other 20% hoping my children are fending for themselves.

This is a mother… a grown-arse woman…. making the scary choice of keeping her girls home to keep them safe… and praying that this is a better decision to keep them safe from this virus, than to actually physically keep them in an unattended home.

In 10 days of this set-up, these kids have definitely gotten into things where they could get hurt (glass, kitchen scissors, on top of furniture, etc.), they have wandered out the side door out to the country road by themselves (luckily our neighbor was there to talk to them), and they have hurt each other when they are fighting. 

And so, as I cried to my husband last night, I explained this isn’t like any parenting situation I have ever been involved in or exposed to before.

This is like parenting ... with a blindfold on…. with my hands tied behind my back.

So, there is a big part of me that has to wonder—-Is this the right solution? I honestly have no idea. And when I have talked to all of my closest friends and family members, they don’t know either. Separately they are straight forward questions:

• Should I stay employed during this crazy economic time—of course.
• Should I work from home to protect myself? Duh… yes.
• Should I keep my kids home with me to protect them —-not with my elderly parents, not with a random babysitter? Yup, again.

But when you combine these Q&As… I’m fuzzy if I’ve taken the right path. No one I know has ever been in this situation before. I just don’t know.

But I do know some things:

So as I walked my dogs this morning around the lake, I prayed like I do every morning. I prayed for patience. I prayed for guidance. I prayed that my decision to keep them in our home during this scary time is the right decision for them, for me, for our family, for my job, for their safety.

If you believe in prayer, I’d ask you to sneak one in for me & mine tonight…. And I’ll do the same for you.

Stay safe out there, friends.

I keep seeing an interesting blog pop-up on FB. It’s about how women push themselves too far in competing as moms, wives, adults, etc. Of course, social media doesn’t help with this, as we all sit around judging ourselves more and more for not measuring up to some super-momma or super-woman out there. And honestly, there is sadly a large chunk of women who gain their “strength” by judging or putting down other women; this don’t help any woman feeling comfy with airing her flaws/choices/weaknesses.

So, anywho, the blog defined a term I hadn’t heard before…. an “I don’t list”—-a list of all the things any particular woman chooses not to do, that she feels society expects her to do as a mom/wife/adult. The blog continues by recommending we all start developing & SHARING our “I don’t list”, not only to be therapeutic, but also to let other ladies know you are out there—“you” meaning, a non-perfect human.

So, here it goes….

1) I don’t cook for my family. Ahhhh, the horror. I selfishly meal prep for MYSELF (gasp), which typically doesn’t match my husband/kiddos tastes… so he cooks for them. I also just don’t enjoy cooking—not my bag. But, I can make a mean bowl of chef boyardee:)

2) I don’t clean my house…. much. Of course I do the standard daily pick up and organization of our home; I clean-up the clutter and keep the dishes and laundry under control. But since I work full time and I have extraordinarily-messy children, I outsourced the deep bi-weekly cleaning to a cleaning lady. No toilets for me. I’d rather spend my off time enjoying by babies.

3) I don’t play with my kids very often. Meaning, I don’t get down on the ground and play barbies or hide-n-seek. I’m better at taking them places (zoo, park, six flags), and enjoying that with them. I also love reading with them. But playing army guys—nope, no doing it.

4) I don’t put my kids to bed. Since I’m an extra early-riser for my workouts (my me-time), I’m an extra-early go-to-bedder. Which means, I give kisses to my family around 8 pm and I head to bed. Now, they usually wander their way into my bed at some point at night, and I snuggle the snot out of them. But, I bypass bedtime.

5) I don’t attend (which means my kids don’t attend) little kid class birthday parties. You know the ones—the required full class invite bday shindigs. As busy as we are at this age… these frequent weekend time-drains have been cut from any concern of mine. This also means I have never hosted one of these big class parties for my children either. Not fun in my book.

6) I don’t go to baby/bridal showers. I send cash-moooooney! I truly believe these “watch someone open 1 gift at a time, without humor, wine, or any type of fun”, were invented by some evil man with the intent to slowly suck the joy out of women.

7) I don’t watch my children practice sports/activities. Every minute counts in my life, so when I’m paying someone to teach or develop a skill in my kids, I trust they will handle it. I use that practice time to get work done on my laptop at a local sports bar, or I go run needed errands! I definitely get the judgmental comments and looks when I pick up at the end of practice vs fighting for a small corner of the window to watch them… but I don’t care.

8) I don’t get myself wrapped up in any sort of mandated-task. This means, my kids eat fast food at least weekly, they brush their teeth once a day (if I’m lucky) vs. twice a day, they’ve had soda, and I don’t worry if they inhale the required amount of daily veggies.

9) I don’t pack lunches with sweet napkin-notes, like my momma did. I rely on cafeteria lunches.

10) I don’t sign-up to be room-mother. I’ll contribute money or any goodie that I can buy pre-made at the grocery store for any class party.

11) I don’t iron. If something needs to look pressed in my house, it gets dry-cleaned:)

12) I don’t send homemade snacks to class on snack day.

13) I don’t censor my “trash mouth” (as my dad calls my cursing-laced-language) around my children. I believe they should learn the difference between things/behaviors for adults, and things/behaviors for kids. Like, drinking, shooting guns, driving…. all off limits for them.

14) I don’t bake homemade birthday cakes for my girls, sew homemade dresses or Halloween costumes, or do anything successfully off of Pinterest:)

So that’s my first pass at my “I don’t list”! If you’re judging me, buzz off. No need to comment. If however, you’re struggling to keep your head above water meeting all the “society-required” tasks on a daily basis… I hope this somehow helped you. I feel great airing all my chosen-flaws.

And, I think my baby girls are doing ok. They seem like they will survive all of their momma’s shortcomings. So, who is next on sharing their list?

In light of our current pending potential Category 5 hurricane, making way towards somewhere along the southeast coast of our beautiful country… I was reminiscing with my family this weekend about my days in the Coast Guard.

Hurricanes are a normal part of life in the Coast Guard. Since I was primarily on ships during my time, I viewed hurricanes as a life/operation disruption. When one would hit the radar, we’d be tracking it constantly, and making plans to change our current course to avoid it. What would be worse, would be those times we had just pulled in after a long patrol, and every member of the crew was just craving family time. Well, if a hurricane had the potential of coming near your ship in port, you got underway. If you miscalculated the path and made the poor decision to stay tied up, and the hurricane did any damage to your cutter (or worse put your cutter up onshore), there’s a very high chance you’d be relieved from command and heavily disciplined. So every intelligent captain would get their ship ready, and get underway.

So although it was a bummer to get underway during the time you had promised your family you would be home, the worst part was that you never got to avoid the storm like you wanted/planned. As you know, hurricanes cause major destruction, and for people in the Coast Guard, that means rescuing people in the storm.

The worst one I can kind of remember being involved with, was back in 2001-2002 when I was the Executive Officer on the Coast Guard Cutter DRUMMOND out of Cape Canaveral, FL. I can’t remember (or find on google) the name of the storm, but it was a rough one. We got underway several days before it hit land to ensure we could navigate away from its path. Unfortunately, as the storm started hitting the coastline of FL, we got a report that an anchored-dinner-cruise ship had become adrift in the storm. They needed us to respond as the closest vessel 3 hours south. So we turned and headed north into the storm.

I was on watch driving, which is good—I needed to be able to see the sky with how sick I felt. The swells were huge. I don’t remember how big technically, maybe 20’… but I can still feel it. On the bridge of our cutter there was a radar with 2 handles, one one each side of the screen. I stood at the radar and braced myself for each swell. Each swell would start as we’d drop down into the belly of it, which felt like we were heading down a steep hill of a roller coaster. This drop would make me push down onto the handles to keep myself from falling into the radar. Then, we’d ride up the other side of the swell, so I felt myself wanting to fall backwards towards the back of the cutter, like we were on the verge of flipping over backwards (although we weren’t close). I’d have to use the handles to pull myself towards the radar on the uphills, as my body weight pulled away from the equipment. The painful part was when we’d reach the very top of the wave; we’d slam down to the bottom of the swell and it just completely jarred every bone in your body. Then it would repeat… downhill, uphill, slam down… downhill, uphill, slam down… for hours. Your body hurt, your hands hurt, you felt nauseous. Each of us had a standard clear bathroom trash bag tied to our belt loop filled with puke, banging against our legs. It was rough. So, anyone who has asked me if the Coast Guard was like being on Baywatch (which is a common question I get)…. ummm, not quite as glamorous.

Of course, right before we got to the drifting ship, we were notified someone was able to help rescue them sooner, so they called us off. So, we headed south, back to our port. That was the only time I felt “land sick” during my time in the military. It was like my equilibrium was so screwed up, it took several days before I stopped feeling nauseous.

Anywho, just a friendly-reminder to stay safe during this weather, and don’t forget to hug your Coastie-friends braving this pending storm. They are truly answering the call, when no one else can or will.