All the Things

 It's 10:30 in the morning on either MLK Jr Day or Inauguration Day.  Whichever you are celebrating.

It's 10:30 in the morning.  And already an Executive Order has come down, targeting someone I hold most dear.

It's 10:30 in the morning. And the anxiety-reducing deep breaths have already begun.

Let me start by saying that if you are someone who is tempted to tell me that it won't be that bad, or want to pass on your culpability in it all, you can fuck right off with that. Shit's about to get dark, and I am done playing.

Going forward, this is probably where you can find me:  

• BlueSky (I haven't posted much there yet, but that may change).  
• Possibly I may resurrect my old blog that I still pay for and just talk to myself.
• Facebook? No. Our family group chats live in Messenger, so probably not gone gone.  But mostly gone. On the one hand, it's become practically unusable as a platform for me for logistical reasons.  Layered on that, community standards and internal practices make it a no.
• Instagram and Threads?  Same.
• Twitter? Already deleted several weeks ago.
• Tiktok -- Who even knows what's happening with that?

• Reading a lot of Fantasy
• Let me just give a vote for Fantasy lit and entertainment as a way to cope with the next however many years we're in this. "But I don't like elves," you say.  Let me explain. I have read/watched Fantasy for most of my life, probably beginning with Star Wars. The first that I remember reading that REALLY turned me into the genre was the Dragonlance Chronicles when I was 13 (still a favorite)-- though I'm sure I read some childrens lit before then.  But here's WHY I think it's a perfect genre for the time.  There are a gazillion different themes you'll see repeated throughout, but there are two in particular that stand out to me this morning.
• Rebellion against an oligarchian or authoritarian government devoid of compassion for its people
• What happens when a religious system prioritizes its power over its faith
• I recommend it
• Resisting the temptation to revel in schaudenfreude
• Indulging in self care whatever that looks like
• Probably should just buy stock in Half Price Books and B&N
• Protecting my kids from the "-isms" of the ruling class.

so  Good luck. I'll meet those with the heart to do so on Endor.

Self-Love Chapter 1b

 

HIGHLIGHTED

Without a strong sense of love for yourself, you may experience:

• Anxiety
• Defensiveness
• Depression
• Insecurity
• Materialism
• Shame
• Unhealthy Coping

WITH a strong sense of love for yourself, you may benefit from gains in:

• Belonging
• Confidence
• Empowerment
• Happiness
• Love
• Motivation
• Relationship Quality
• Self-Care
• Physical Health

WHAT LOVE ISN'T

• ENTITLEMENT: Entitlement should not be confused with the idea of recognizing your worth. Consider it a basic human need. Compassion, care, and acceptance are as fundamental as water, food, and shelter.
• SELFISHNESS: Although self-love is a reflective process in which one turns energy inward, the benefits are not selfish. Self-Love requires the courage to distinguish your weaknesses, challenges, and obstacles.
• SINFUL: Self-Love is the journey to care for yourself in order to prompt a domino effect of care and compassion for those around you.
• EXCUSE: A critical component of self-love is recognizing your limits, needs, and worth, and asserting interpersonal and intrapersonal boundaries as needed to uphold them. The full process of self-love includes the good, the bad, and the ugly. It is also the decision to recognize your areas for growth, tailoring a potentially difficult yet necessary plan of attack, and bravely tackling it head-on.

Self Love: Chapter 1a

 

Highlighted

"self-love -- The active practice of accepting, caring for, and encouraging oneself."

"Self-love is an intentional practice to learn and cultivate... It is the opportunity to see yourself completely, to recognize and value your strengths and weaknesses... it is critical to acknowledge your imperfections in order to nurture personal growth."

"Self-love is not a summit to conquer...but a continuous practice of caring for yourself."

Thoughts -- What does self-love mean to you?

"Self" comes with so much cultural baggage -- attention to self even more. It is work for me to ignore the calls of selfishness and guilt to acknowledge that it isn't selfish, but necessary and healthful. In this moment, self-love means holding myself with kindness and gentleness. It means providing opportunities for insight and looking inward. It is both allowing acknowledgement and celebration of the places I shine - - and also holding space to notice the places I am dull and jagged, without judgment. It is finding outward outpourings of that love to those around me. It is finding peace with the storm inside.

Setting the Winter Up for Success

When one of my girls was in high school, we took this DBT class together in conjunction with her therapy. I don't know how much she got out of it, but I got a lot! One of the parts that I think about frequently was this section where we were talking about Distress Tolerance -- what to do when you're upset.  And there were these three pages with ideas on how to Distract yourself, how to Soothe yourself, and how to Improve the moment that you're in when you're feeling overwhelmed.

I return to these often.

In WW, we talk a lot about setting yourself up for success. The time to come up with a list of Things to Do Instead of Eating Ice Cream when You're Mad is not when you're mad. You aren't being kind to yourself by waiting until then.  The time to come up with that list is when you're not mad and you have a little bit of space between Current You and Not Sane You -- SO THAT it's already there and ready to pull from when you need it later.

It's full into Autumn here in the Northwest. And I don't know if it actually IS, but it feels like it's gotten gloomier faster this year. I'm kind of the Point Parent for getting us through the dark wintery depression season -- which, admittedly, is ABSOLUTELY like the blind leading the blind. But, I need to set myself up for success.

So, I'm working on a "What I Need to Fill My Cup" list.  It's a work in progress.

• Give yourself permission to leave the laundry undone, and spend that time immersed in a book. YES, work your way through your TBR shelf -- but this is the season to bring out your old favorites and spend time with old friends. Roland Deschain, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, Samwise Gamgee, Anne Shirley, James Herriott, Mr Tumnus. 
• Is it raining outside? No? Put on your sneakers, please.
• Go do the dishes. It takes 10 minutes and you feel better when the kitchen counter is clear.
• Write. Even if what comes out is dumb and no one cares but you.
• Make all the online shopping wish lists you please!
• Get a massage.
• Watch your favorite old movies. Kick anyone out who complains or makes fun.
• Get brave enough to make TikToks just to piss off your kids.
• Listen to the music you love.

Hi, remember me?

*tap tap* Is this thing on?  I thought I'd see if this place still works. I've been moving into my own office/reading/writing space, and I'd like to get back into writing again. Don't expect anything fancy... probably just some prompts out of my writing jar to start. But I feel good when I'm expressing myself more. I can't promise that you'll always like what I have to say! But it would feel good to have a space again.

I've really been enjoying driving around lately -- just normal driving around town and errands. My town looks so pretty right now with the orange and red leaves, and the pine needles that have changed colors ready to be purged.  We have a wind storm coming today, so they'll probably mostly be gone tomorrow. But it's sure pretty right now.

One of the things I really love about autumn is yes -- the change in colors -- but I think they serve as a reminder to me about the circle of the seasons, and how there is a purpose to each of them. This time of year is for harvesting, but also of preparing for the winter, which in turn prepares us for new growth. I need that reminder sometimes. Not just in what the earth needs each year, but it reminds me that the same is true for the seasons of my own life. That sometimes life is sunshine and beach parties and sometimes life is a little barren and sometimes life is preparing for both of them. And that, even when it feels barren and harsh, there is a reason and a purpose, and it truly is just a season.

A Pulled-In Kind of Year

 It’s been a year this week since things shut down.  March 4, 2020 was our last family meal out to celebrate the twins’ 20^th birthday.

Actually, there is an awful lot that can happen and change in a year that often felt like a lot of nothing.

We graduated two kids from high school. We started, stopped, and changed course with educational plans more than a few times. One kid moved home, moved out, and then moved again. One stayed home under duress, schooled long-distance, and is now getting ready to move out into her own place. One started school, and then switched gears into something else entirely.

Everyone’s schooled and worked from home. Some of us went back. Some of us are still here.

We cancelled big trips, and cancelled concerts.  Sad face. We haven’t seen our extended family for ages. I miss my parents and sisters.

We housed a cherished adopted daughter for a couple months. We messily weathered the transition from parenting youngsters to parenting young adults.

I’m basically a walking psychologist. Better Help will call me any day.

We tried to guide through some very hard growing-up moments – the kinds of things that you don’t put on your Facebook page because your kids aren’t 5 anymore.

We thought Casey had COVID… my dad had surgery… then my sister DID get COVID.

My work life has completely changed. A workshop that would have made me cry a year ago now has me going, “Well, that’s not awful.”

We started the year with just our daughters. We ended it with our daughters, plus two serious boyfriends. At least one of them lives in the state.

After years of saying we should, we finally managed to establish a weekly date night. Even if it has to be done in 32* weather.

I’ve planned three separate 2-week trips.  If we can ever go places again, we are set. I pretend this will happen someday.

My friend group has more or less mortally injured itself.

I learned that I really really still like my husband.

We worried about people a lot. We were frustrated by people a lot.  By “we,” I probably mean “me.”

And tomorrow, we gather together for pizza and ice cream cake – in our dining room this year – for the twins’ 21^st birthday.

Another year.

Thursday Tales: The Last Chapter

Her fingers flew across the keys.

Chapter 49

Jane blinked quickly as she emerged from the innards of the mountain into the bright sun. How long had she been inside? How long had they all been inside?

Her friends followed her out, all blinking the same.  Her friends.  She laughed a little at that thought. They were such a ragtag bunch. Humans and elves and dwarves and dryads and... just all of them. Races that normally hated each other, who would have happily knifed each other in a barroom brawl, and yet... yet they had become her friends.  All drawn together by a common goal, a common enemy to vanquish.

She dropped her sword and slid down the side of the mountain into a near-crouch, ignoring the pain as the rocks dug into her skin, drawing a little blood as she went.  It hardly mattered now -- it just mixed with all the rest. She let her head fall into her hands and, just for a moment, allowed her thoughts to swirl.

A few years ago, they would have happily knifed each other -- it took the arrival of a lowly heretic wizard who drew on the fears and prejudices of the people to amass more and more power to change all of that. It had been so frustrating in the beginning. She couldn't understand why so many were drawn to someone who was so obviously not... good. Alec had told her that it was simply what they wanted, that everyone wants someone to believe in, sometimes just someone to give them someone else to blame.

Oh, Alec. Even closed, she could feel the pain of the heartache behind her eyes, and she opened them to shake it away.  But, not before Damian, on one knee across from her, saw it. He merely nodded.  He'd had his own losses -- they all had -- and he understood. They all understood.

She stood up, and opened her mouth to speak. No words came. What do you say after you vanquish the beast?  What do you say after your quest is over and you're not sure what comes next? What do you say when you're not sure the next step, where you go from here, and what there is to go home to?

She met Damian's eyes again, and whispered, "I don't know know what we do next." She felt like a failure of a leader in that moment.

He stood and put his hand on her shoulder in comfort. He was solid -- a man of few words, but meaningful when they were spoken. "Breathe, Jane."  He turned to face their friends, and she was grateful for his strength.

"My friends," he began.  "Our friends... a battle has been won. Take solace in that win. Take meaning from this moment. Breathe it in and know that this is what we have fought for --  but also, "he paused.  "Also, it isn't. The hatred amassed in that cave -- was drawn from our homes.  And it still rests there. The battle was the easy part. What comes next... will take us all. What comes next is the healing and the rebuilding."

Jane took strength from that. They all did. Yes. The quest was over, but there was more for her to do. More for them to do. 

There was yet light in the day.

THE END

The writer smiled and pushed back from her desk. She picked up her cup of tea, a little cold now, and wandered to the window. She was done.  Editing yet to do, of course, but she was done and it felt good to have the story out.

Yet, she couldn't help but frown at the world outside. Something was wrong with it. It was great! She should be satisfied! But, something was wrong with it and she wasn't really sure what.

She sat back down at her desk and stared at her screen. Carefully, she highlighted the files for Chapters 1-48.

Move to... New Folder.

"Back Story"

She reopened Chapter 49... erased the "49"... typed "1."

The vanquishing quest wasn't the story she wanted to tell.   The rebuilding was.

A Tale of Two Selfies

 I am obsessed with these pictures.

The picture on the left is from 2004. I was 28 years old. We lived in Southern California, in a house just far enough from our friends to be lonely -- and way far from our families. My husband worked a lot -- and a good 60 minute commute away -- and I was home with our daughters -- two delayed 4 year olds and a 3-year-old. I was not doing well.

It was during this time that my friends started insisting that I see a counselor. Sitting on the stairs, shaking by 7am, was apparently not normal behavior. One of the first things my counselor tried to drum into my brain: "If you do not take care of YOU, there will be no YOU to take care of the people you care for most." I would go on to relearn that lesson over and over and over for years -- but I don't think re-learnt lessons are bad.  I think it might just mean that I'm stubborn.

I don't know what the number on the scale was -- we didn't own one.  But I wasn't happy with most of who I was.

The picture on the right is from two days ago. I'm 44 years old, though I continue to try to convince my children that I'm still 28. We live in Washington, in a well-lived-in house, closer -- if not close-- to our families. My husband still works too much sometimes, but is better about balance. I am still a probably-overly-involved mom, though at 20, 20, and 19, our daughters' needs are different, if not less taxing.

I have learned to embrace my natural curls, to apply make-up, and how to take a damn killer selfie.

But, mostly... I think that I just like me.

My Tender Times

There are certain times in my life that I hold in my memory with the utmost care and tenderness. They are precious beautiful times that I associate with golden periods of my life -- and mostly center around friendships from earlier times in my life that were grounded in youth and the process of maturing and faith and ministry.

One of these is time we spent in California -- especially the connections between the college we attended and the church that became our home. We were deeply rooted in that church, especially its youth ministry, and we built these deep wonderful friendships that I hold with such care in my heart and enjoyed these lovely groups of people who fed into us. In retrospect, I regret that I didn't appreciate this as much as I should have when I had it. I don't think I really understood then how rare it was, and I pined for a move to the NW so I could be closer to my family. I didn't realize that when God finally gave me what I asked for in that, I would always be searching for a copy of the family that I had when we were there. There is guilt that comes with that leaving that we did... Some of those friendships have crumbled, and sometimes I wonder if that was our fault.  If we'd stayed, would they have survived? Probably the answer is yes, they still would have deteriorated for the same reasons they did in reality.  Maybe not on the same timetable, but eventually. -- But I still hold the guilt anyway.

Another is the decade I was a WAH girl. We were women, young to a-little-less-young, who met and came together in the early days of the 2000s internet. Before Facebook, before Instagram, we had Yahoogroups. I was a very young mom, unsure of myself, opinionated anyway, both too strong and too weak of a personality at the same time.  God help you if you missed a day of messages because your inbox would be full to the brim. We loved each other and fought with each other and grew with each other and pushed each other. These, too, are friendships I hold with tenderness -- and with the knowledge that they know every piece of me.  The good things and the oh-so-ugly things. There is a comforting understanding in that, I suppose -- some of our friendships have survived, and some have not (I hold a tremendous amount of guilt and grief in this too -- probably more deserved)-- but even with that being true, I know that every single one of those women have been and continue to be a part of me -- and I wouldn't be who I am without them. I think about them, in some way, almost every day.

We built a ministry that sprung out of our friendships, and we found out yesterday that one of our girls had passed away. And it sort of feels like a piece of you passed with it, like the picture that was that time in our lives has fractured just a little bit more. And it leaves you broken in ways that are hard to explain, and I can only just grasp in my head -- and maybe you had to be part of it.

There will surely be more tender times in my life -- but it's hard for me imagine any that could come close.

Fandom: A Small Retrospective

 We were at a brewery a few weeks ago. There was this lady who clearly frequented regularly and felt like she thought that she owned the place. Not in a "you're in my seat" sort of way -- but more like "Let me tell you everything you didn't ask about and try to sell you on its glory." We found her to be annoying.

I think that I may have especially found her annoying because - well - I watched her and thought, "She would have really enjoyed being a Celtic Thunder fan." Maybe I saw a little bit of me in her.

Most of my 30s and a little bit of my 40s -- I was an Irish manband superfan. My friends knows this. I like to say that I just had my midlife crisis a little early.

In retrospect, it was a weird thing. At the time, I guess I knew that -- but it was also mostly a fun thing. As I look back, there are a lot of things I'm glad that I did -- some things I wish that I'd done differently -- and a few things that I wish I'd never done at all.

I enjoyed the music and loved the concerts -- but the marks that 10-year experience left on me lies mostly in people -- in the friendships and experiences that maybe only another fan can understand. Some of those rested in other fans, some in people within the business, some I only met tangentially but who filled important pieces in me.

Many of those people, I only talk to occasionally now -- some of them remain a beloved fixture. But we all shared a common experience, and they all fill a sweet scene in the friend tapestry of my life.

The Fog bringeth Autumn

 
The fog lingers in the trees over the neighborhood swamp this morning, taking its time burning off before the summer day begins. It will burn off, but it's a reminder that a new season is making its way.

Spring was achingly hard this year. Summer as comfortable and lazy, as summer should be. What might Autumn have in store? What might I have in store for Autumn?

At WW, we provide a host of tools to help people with managing change. So many of them -- and the conversations we create -- center on the important of awareness. You can't change how you're eating if you don't know how you're eating. I think you can extrapolate that into so many places in your life.

I've always held the transition from Summer into Fall as a perfect time to reassess life and habits and intentions. Not really for any sweeping changes -- but little things tend to slide and slip in over the summer, and the new season and starting school year has always felt like a joyful opportunity to refocus on the things and people I value most. 

The fog has burned off now -- the morning clouds will follow. And as the late summer day lingers on, I'll be thinking about those things.

The Things that Form You

 I think that, in order for this to really make sense, you have to know two things about me.

First, I think you need to know that I didn't grow up in the church. God was a choice I made as a teenager, but I attended a youth group where the other kids all felt like they had. -- Or at least that's how it seemed to me. One of the things they did was participate in the Bible Bowl at the North American Christian Convention. Those study sessions always secretly felt like I was batting from behind. I didn't know the Bible stories that they had all learned in Sunday school and VBS for years. I felt like I was trying to pass Trigonometry, while never letting on that I'd never learned multiplication.

I guess I just felt like I wasn't sure how to be a believer. So, like a child looking to her parents and teachers, I looked to the people who could be my mentors over the years about how I should be. What does being a Believer look like in real life? What does it look like in school? At work? As I got older, it became questions about how I should be a wife, how I should be a friend and a daughter and a sister and a mother. How does one balance being a Believer and a citizen? How does one take the teachings of Jesus and translate them into how I should vote, how I should work, how I should shop and drive and order McDonalds? All of those questions, and those mentors became really important to me. They were instrumental in the person I would become.

The second thing that I think you need to know is that I came of age during the Clinton era, and I think that's important. I couldn't tell you how I voted in his 2nd election -- but I can tell you what I remember. I have vague memories of the Monica Lewinsky scandal, but I have even more vivid memories of the arguments that the believers in my life gave the most stringently. They all sounded a little different, but they more or less all boiled down to this: Character matters. It matters. And character matters in our national leaders even more. 

And that made biblical sense to me. James talks about the harsher judgments that come with being a teacher -- and it made sense to me that similar expectations would be extended to those in governmental power -- that we should strive to vote into power those of good character. That idea nestled in my heart and felt like something I could trust to be a guiding principle in my civic life. And it has been! Because even if we weren't necessarily on the same page in matters of policy, I felt I could trust that person to make wise decisions where wise decisions were needed.

And now we're here where we are.  If I'm really honest with you, I struggle. I struggle to understand why character suddenly doesn't matter anymore, and why that should no longer be the driving factor -- or even A factor. I struggle to understand why the ends suddenly justify the means if the ends are what I want. Even if the character is really really really really really bad.

I haven't really known how to talk about it until now. Maybe I still don't. I have felt this bitterness in my heart every time I've thought about it, but I couldn't ever quite find the words to describe why. But, I think I'm beginning to understand that bitterness. It isn't about policy or politics -- but perhaps much more about trust. It feels more like betrayal that hits me deep in my soul. Like all those mentors who I counted on to teach me how I should be... they didn't really believe what they said they did -- and it makes everything between then and now feel very hollow. I don't really see that I can do much about that -- it is just what it is.

Except this. Because I can't leave a blog like that. I am the same age NOW as some of those mentors were when I first started looking to them -- even older than some of them.  And I can take that seriously, and not give those who look to me reason to pause in disappointment years down the road because I didn't really believe what I told them I did.

A Lull in Time

While the atmosphere outside my home has been chaotic this week, we have actually enjoyed a pretty calm week inside of it. It felt like a week of rest between Phase 2 and Phase 3 of COVID QUARANTINE YEAR.

Phase 2 hasn't been great, I'll be honest. We had a BIG PARENTING THING with one of our kids that was very traumatic... and then another kid got sick, and she's the grocery store worker so we worried about what she might have... and that got cleaned up and then I got a text that said, "MOM... so someone crashed into me... I'm okay but the car isn't."  For FREAKS sake.

We had a houseguest all through Phase 2 -- this wasn't a bad thing, just a MORE thing. We've always told our children that if their friends ever needed somewhere to stay, they could come to our house. If the situation was reversed, I would want that.  I would want to know that, if my kids felt they couldn't be home, that they had somewhere safe to go, vs living in their car under a bridge. So, when a friend felt like Stuff with Mom and Dad was just too much and she needed to escape... we said, "of course."  She's lovely and I love her, and she's always welcome. And I have bought SO MUCH Red Bull in the last month.

But, this has been the lull.  Houseguest moved home... partly I think things are a bit better with her parents, and partly I think that living on top of each other for 6 weeks was starting to create a friendship rift.  I actually am quite proud of them for realizing that and making a change before it did create a permanent rift.  That's grown-up stuff right there, girls.

Sick Kid got better... Other Driver's insurance is paying for the car damage. I took one to Leavenworth, my favorite place, for lunch. 

and though the country and the world was racked with strife, I felt like this week gave me a chance in my personal life to take a breath and prepare myself for whatever Phase 3 brings.

I don't really expect it to be better -- but I've had my breath. I'm ready to take it on.

Root of the Heart: Surgery, Parenting, and Riots

I was home in Oregon a couple summers ago to visit when my dad asked me if I'd be able to take him to the hospital the next morning for a routine test.  "Sure," I told him. Then, he told me I had to pick him up at 5am. 

ALWAYS ask for the details first, kids.

I arrived to pick him up the next morning and watched with concern as I realized how much of a toll just walking to the bathroom was taking on him. Out of breath and needing to stop to rest, that didn't seem right.  We got to the hospital for the test... where they had to run a couple tests before they could do the test...

Which he failed.  Actually, he failed so bad that the heart doctor later said to me, "Honestly, I don't know how he was able to walk at ALL." So, they checked him in for further exploration.

Very long story short in which I spare you gnarly details, most of which include "Oh... dear lord, hello Dad's Penis, I'm just going to stare at THAT corner of the ceiling for awhile" -- they found bleeding in his stomach which was in turn caused by a problem with his heart.

The doctors were able to seal up the bleeding in his stomach -- but explained to me that if they didn't eventually fix the problem with his heart, the bleeding would probably come back.

It's been two summers since then. The heart fix is almost on the docket, but not actually done yet, and those same exhaustion issues are starting to come back.  -- Because while the symptoms of the problem had been addressed, the root has still not.

I'm big on fixing roots. We were out with my husband's boss once, chatting over beers, and he was sharing with us a problem he was having with his teenage daughters fighting. His pet solution mostly had to do with forcing them to behave in parental presence, and asked me if I thought that would work.

My answer was a question. "I think that depends on your goal. If your goal is to get them to behave in your presence? Yes, absolutely. If your goal is to help them navigate the how to have a better relationship? Then, no." --  And to me, that was important -- because the fighting -- while exhausting to a parent -- is merely a symptom of the root cause.

It is through that lens that I see the place that we're in right now.  I think it's easy to watch the news and be outraged by what you're seeing. The riots and the looting can seem nonsensical.  It's complicated... and I think that a lot of peaceful protests are probably being co-opted by people who just want to break shit. Even here in my sleepy suburbian area of Seattle, I read a story about looting at my local-ish mall - only to read further to find the police chief talking about intel he'd heard earlier that there was planned gang activity under the cover of the peaceful protests. And I do think there is a LOT of that going on -- whether it be gang-related or just people who are mad at the world and want to break it all.

But, the very peaceful that didn't hurt anyone taking a knee during the national anthem? It was protesting something and no one paid attention. The problem it was alerting us all to got ignored. And just like your body's symptoms get more and more acute as you ignore a problem for longer and longer, the protests get stronger.

It's easy to sit in our homes and scoff at the riots we're seeing now, as we watch what they're turning into and the damage they're causing. It is easy to see them as the bleeding in the stomach and think that the bleeding in the stomach is the only problem.

It is easy to ignore the heart. But when you refuse to address the heart, the bleeding comes back.  Not because the stomach is broken, but because you couldn't be bothered to address the root.

Control: A Mom's Struggle

The first year that I taught my child to drive was the year that I really learned to fear for my life.

She was nervous about the cars driving toward her, and so she hugged the right side of the lane.  And  when I say "hugged the right side of the lane," I really mean "made the blackberry bushes fear for their very lives."

I would sit in the passenger seat, my hand clutching the door handle with white knuckles, muttering, "Bushes...  there's bushes... IN the lane.  IN the lane.  Drive IN the lane. OH MY GOD YOU ARE GOING TO HIT THAT MAILBOX!!!!!!!!!"

Here, I had entrusted this giant vehicle that I knew very well could become a killing machine into the hands of a child who could barely ride a bike without running it into a ... well, a bush.  It was genuinely the scaredest I've ever been in my life.  After 30 years, I began to understand why, in my view, my dad was the worst driving teacher in the history of the world.  Maybe he wasn't the worst driving teacher in the history of the world -- maybe he was just FRIGHTENED FOR HIS LIFE.  

I genuinely didn't think I'd be that afraid ever again.

But, I was wrong.

I'm beginning to understand that teaching your child how to drive... entrusting her with your car and relinquishing control of the wheel to a mere teenager... It's a test run.

It's a test run in learning to let go of the wheel. It's a test run in NOT being the one in control. It's a test run in trusting them to make choices and live with the consequences.

Because there will come a time... not too long after they've learned to drive the car... when you will have to step out.  There will come a time when you will have to relinquish control to a young adult, and you will have to trust her with... herself. You will have to let them make their own stupid decisions, even when your mom heart wants to scream at them to get back in the damn lane and stop aiming at mailboxes.

And, as it turns out, it is far more frightening to trust them with THEMSELVES, my most prized possessions, than it ever was to trust them with the car.

MY BIGGEST QUESTIONS

Some weeks ago -- I can't really say how many, I can't remember when this all started --, my biggest questions were "Where am I going in my job?" ...  "What are my husband and I going to do after the kids all fly away?" ... "How are we going to get the kids to all fly away?"...

And those are still my biggest questions...

Only now they're joined by questions like "Have I taken more than one shower this week?"... "When was the last time I ate something besides fruit snacks?"... "How many times can you have Make-Your-Own-Dinner night and still be considered a not-awful mother?".. "Do I even care?" ... "Why is it Daytime again?"... "Maybe this would be a good time to catch up on the storylines of All My Children?"--  "Is All My Children even still on?"

Hold please. No. No, it is not.

"Sheltering-in-place" doesn't sound like it should be hard. You're not going to war, you're not doing any hard labor, you're just... staying home.  But, the change in ALL your routines, the strides to create a new normal from everything is different -- it creates a weird strain that is more psychological than physical, but just as wearing.

For myself, I underestimated how much of my coping system would be shaken up by just not going anywhere.. by not seeing anyone. I misjudged how one simple change would affect me, and that I would be back to "I took a shower today" being sometimes the measure of my success.

And that's all okay -- you do what you have to do to deal with what you have to deal with. One step at a time, one day at a time.

I haven't had any fruit snacks today.  So... win.

I FACEBOOK-STALKED YOU TODAY

I facebook-stalked you today.

You and I haven't spoken for a long time. There was once ugliness between us -- hostilities we could forgive but not quite forget -- and I think we both just stopped trying and went our separate ways.

Sometimes that makes me sad -- we once meant a lot to each other. But, time and life moves on, and if I'm honest, I don't spend much time dwelling on it anymore. We are part of each other's pasts, but not meant to be part of each other's futures.

But, every once in a while, I think of you. I wonder how you're doing. I think about what drove us apart and how I could have handled things then and later differently - but mostly, I just hope good things for you. I don't want your life to be painful.

So I peeked a little into your life -- And I can say these things truthfully.

I am happy for you for the good things you have encountered since we were last friends. I'm glad that you have people in your life who support you. I'm deeply sorry for the hardships you have encountered and the pain that has tried to break you. Interestingly, I think that you and I, as individual people, have hardened and softened in not-dissimilar ways. We probably have a lot of parallels in that journey, though they really don't look the same, and I'm not sure that our pieces still fit together in the way they once did.

And while I'm not sure reconciliation is in our future -- it could be if we were both better at forgetting and forgiving and trusting.

All that said -- I'm okay with where we are. Time has healed much, and I still love you and I still pray good things for you, whether our paths cross again or not.

May God keep you well.

A LITTLE BEHIND

It's not that I had big plans for the first weeks of January -- I have purposely kept my "resolutions" small.

It's just that my plans didn't involve staying at home, postponing all my little goals, and drinking my weight in hot liquids daily.

My job requires me to talk a lot -- so when I get sick enough that I lose my voice, it's a problem and  requires a strict slowdown.  So, this week, I pretty much ignored a lot of my life. I didn't do work. I did as few errands as I could get away with. I stayed at home a lot.  I drank tea.  Lots and lots of tea.  And then I peed a lot.

So, while the rest of the world has moved into 2020 with gusto... I'm sort of still stuck here on Dec 30th.

and that's okay.  2020 will be waiting for me when I'm ready for it.

I wasn't looking

I wasn't looking --  for a job.  My girls were in junior high -- I was happy as a SAHM.  I wasn't in the market.  Someday, maybe.  It just wasn't in my needs for "right now."

But I had a persistent mentor, and one thing led to another... and then I had a job.  Which soon led into a different role.

and honestly, I thought they would have fired me by now.  At first, it's just that I thought I was awful at it and there's no way they'd keep letting me speak to people.  Now, I'm just willing speak my mind and be a little cantankerous.  So... the firing may yet happen.

But for now... I still have this job.

And I get to play a role which is really rewarding. I get to support and love people. I get to help them with their goals. I get to see them be successful.  And that was a part of my job that I knew would exist -- if they kept me around long enough.

But, I also get to hang out with a bunch of people -- who I work alongside -- who are really smart and funny and kind. People who have become my friends, and don't mind when I'm a little snarky and cantankerous

I wasn't looking for a job five years ago. But maybe it was looking for me.

The Tamale Guy

One of the best things about going to the annual local craft beer festival with my husband is the food trucks. More specifically, the tamale food truck.

It's hard to find good tamales in Washington...   But the tamale food truck makes some really good ones, and takes me back to when we lived in Southern California and my favorite thing about where we lived.

The Tamale Guy Hunt.

We lived on the north end of Corona in a cute little residential neighborhood, that was about a 45 second drive from being in the middle of cow country.  Cold mornings were not without their own special aroma.

But, if I got a hankering for tamales, I could throw the kids in the car and drive around Cow Country, looking for the Tamale Guy.

I'm pretty sure the Tamale Guy wasn't here legally. I'm pretty sure the Tamale Guy didn't have a business permit.  He didn't speak English. He was never in the same place twice. And he sold tamales, that his MIL made in their kitchen, out of the back of his van. Also, sunglasses.

The extent of our relationship was a lot of smiles, and me pointing at a clipboard to tell him how many I wanted.  There was never a line for "ALL OF THEM."

And he was pretty much my favorite thing about living where we lived. It sure as heck wasn't the drive into Orange County.  I would happily have brought him with us if I could.

I really miss the Tamale Guy.