Perfectly Imperfect

Growing up, I always felt like I'd been passed up on the talent department. One of my biggest pains and sorrows as a teen, was that as much as I wanted to preform and be on stage, I didn't have the voice to be a star. I couldn't paint. I couldn't do much of anything. So I just said that I wasn't creative, and that was that. 

Except that it wasn't, because as talent-less as I am, I still have always felt this need to create, and to be creative.

Recently I came across something beautiful written by artist Nicholas Wilton: 

“I always felt that someone, a long time ago, organized the affairs of the world into areas that made sense – categories of stuff that is perfectible, things that fit neatly in perfect bundles.  The world of business, for example, is this way – line items, spreadsheets , things that add up, that can be perfected. The legal system – not always perfect. but nonetheless a mind-numbing effort to actually write down all kinds of laws and instructions that cover all aspects of being human, a kind of umbrella code of conduct we should all  follow.

Perfection is crucial in building an aircraft, a bridge, or a high-speed train.  The code and mathematics residing just below the surface of the Internet is also this way.  Things are either perfectly right or they will not work.  So much of the world we work and live in is based upon being correct, being perfect.

But after this someone got through organizing everything just perfectly, he (or probably a she) was left with a bunch of stuff that didn’t fit anywhere – things in a shoe box that had to go somewhere. So in desperation this person threw up her arms and said “OK! Fine.  All the rest of this stuff that isn’t perfectible, that doesn’t seem to fit anywhere else, will just have to  be piled into this last, rather large, tattered box that we can sort of push behind the couch.  Maybe later we can come back and figure where it all is supposed to fit in.  Let’s label the box ART.

The problem was thankfully never fixed, and in time the box overflowed as more and more art piled up.  I think the dilemma exists because art, among all the other tidy categories, most closely resembles what it is like to be human. To be alive.  It is our nature to be imperfect. To have uncategorized feelings and emotions. To make or do things that don’t sometimes necessarily make sense.

Art is all just perfectly imperfect.

Once the word Art enters the description of what you’re up to, it is almost like getting a hall pass from perfection.  It thankfully releases us from any expectation of perfection. In relation to my own work not being perfect, I just always point to the tattered box behind the couch and mention the word Art, and people seem to understand and let you off the hook about being perfect and go back to their business.”

Creating art isn't about being the most talented, or most admired. It's an experience between you, and your art. Last year, I participated in a local art class. It was simple enough, They provided the paint, the canvas, and the instructor, who walked us through, step by step, as we all created the same piece of (admittedly poor to mediocre art). I was shocked at the sense of achievement I felt, the freeing sense of creating, even though it wasn't even that spectacular. I was amazed I was even able to follow instructions. It was peaceful, relaxing, and FUN. It was, as Wilton said, perfectly imperfect. 

Because I Can.

Five years ago, the movie The Wizard of Oz celebrated its 70th year of its existence. That year they re-released a special version in theaters for one night and my grad school roommates (including our Lovely Author Meg) and I spent a magical evening with Dorothy and her crew.

A few nights ago my husband and I were watching TV when a commercial touting The Wizard of Oz's 75th anniversary came on. It triggered memories of that 70th anniversary and I filled Sam in on what a fabulous experience it was. As we chatted about what a great experience it was for a few minutes, a thought popped into my head. "Why exactly did I decide to go in the first place, though?" The answer, luckily, popped into my head almost instantly:

Because I could.

I do not have the luxury in my life to do any little passing whim or fancy that enters my head. I do, however, have the luxury of acting on quite a few of them. Why?

Because I can.

Last week I took my eight-month old son to the National Gallery of Art and spent almost the entire time sitting on a couch in one room with him. Why? Because I could.

One night in college, my roommates and I ate dinner while sitting on the floor around our coffee table, in an attempt to recreate a scene from the movie Sabrina. Why? Because we could.

From the ages of 2-3, I have been told that I used to eat finger-fulls of straight butter. Why? This one I don't actually remember too well myself, but I am assuming it was because I was two and I could get away with things like that. In other words, because I could.

I made my own wedding bouquet. Why? Because I could.

For about 3/4 of my life I slept with my head at the foot of my bed (I only stopped when I got married and things would have gotten weird snuggling with my husband's feet). Why? Because I could.

When my sisters and I were younger, we insisted on sleeping outside on our trampoline at least once a week in the summers, even though we would all inevitably roll to the middle and sleep on top of each other and our dad notoriously "forgot" to turn the sprinklers off (set on a timer for some unholy hour of the morning) every single time. Why? Because we could.

This past presidential election, I voted. Why? Because I could.

In grad school I used to time myself running down the stairs from my office on the 7th floor of the library down to the ground floor. Why? Because I could.

The night that my son was born, I refused to put him down for more than seven hours after I finally got to hold him. Why? Because I could.

There is so much in life that we simply cannot do. There isn't enough money, enough time, enough space, enough skill, enough energy, enough anything to do the things that we want. But rather than dwell on the things we can't do, why can we not remember the things we do get to do- the things we get to do just because we can!

Guest Post: Kristi's Five Fantastical Lessons on Life

Today's guest post is by Kristi, Meg's totally awesome sister-in-law. She lives in Texas and is a computer programmer, but she's also an awesome chef, a sci-fi fan, and a mom to a very cute toddler. She and Megan sometimes post recipes on Sisters-in-Long, although not lately (probably Megan's fault for being lazy about taking food pictures). Enjoy! 

I had this fantastic opportunity to stay home with my baby for the first few months of her life, and I loved absolutely every minute. I’ve worked consistently since I was fourteen, so a chance to set my own schedule, have all the laundry clean at the same time, and to take a nap every day was sort of like a home-run for me. Then, suddenly and without warning (pause for dramatic effect), two horrible things happened! I had to return to work AND my child stopped sleeping for 20 hours a day.

As you may imagine, the inevitable happened – gone was the closet of clean laundry, gone were the carefully sculpted meals with coordinating desserts, gone were the (it must be said) naps. Let’s all take a moment of silence for the downfall of my beloved naps. …. Very quickly, I had to learn to adapt to my increased time constraints in order to avoid drowning in my husband’s dirty socks. I’m actually kidding about the dirty socks -he rarely wears socks. The following are five lessons I learned the hard way that are applicable to all of us, regardless of where we are in our lives:

1. Plan to Fail
I know people generally plan in order to succeed, but one day, you’re going to be [sick|cold|tired|busy|bored|angry|sad|hungry|purple|allergic to everything|late|the other kind of late|generally unwilling to keep calm and carry on]. It is going to happen. In these moments of weakness, we tend to blow budgets on conveniences, fall behind on housework, and generally don’t function as we might otherwise. The key is to prepare for these times of need. Do the laundry before you need it. Keep a stack of paper plates and silverware in case of “If I have to do dishes, I will have to start kicking people” moments. Hide chocolate in places no one else in the family will look (like the bottom of a box of feminine products). When you cook, try to think of ways to use leftovers to reduce your kitchen time – our chicken fajita leftovers go into a jar of curry for Indian food the next night. Leftover roasted chicken becomes chicken salad. This tip leads directly into the next:

2. The Freezer is your Best Friend
I know you thought it was that friend you’ve been through hail and high water with, but you are completely wrong. Can your friend have dinner on your table in about fifteen minutes? Probably not. Your freezer, however, is there for you in your time of greatest need. Keep at least two freezer meals on hand, and it will actually be faster than making a run to the nearest fast food place. For my family, it’s frozen turkey meatballs for spaghetti and delicious breakfast sausage for ‘breakfast for dinner’. I don’t plan to make either of these meals, but I know that any given day is going to turn into a nightmare, so it’s good to know that the freezer has my back. Also, ice cream.

3. Nobody cares if your House is Dirty 
And if they do care, you shouldn’t care about them. I’m serious. Take them off the Christmas card list, defriend them on Facebook, and otherwise pretend they don’t exist. Very rarely are all of the rooms in my house clean simultaneously. They get cleaned, yes, but on a rotating schedule. For some people, this is a sign of failure, a sign that the world is ending. To those people, I have this to say: stop. Just stop. Take a deep, relaxing breath, and let go of your 1950’s photo-opportunity home. If it is making you ill to get it, if your children are being ignored in pursuit of magazine cleanliness – let it go. Housework is important, but let’s all be a little more Zen about it. If you are able to successfully juggle all of your commitments AND keep a spotless home, well, shut up – no one likes you anyway and we all talk about you behind your back.

4. Be Honest with Yourself 
I have an ‘Almost No Crafts’ policy. People are sometimes taken aback by this. I’ll go to a church or social function with crafts, and I will often refuse to participate and opt to sit around and chat and do nothing. The reason is simple – if it isn’t a craft I can finish in a short time span, I KNOW I will never finish it. Ever. It will sit in a closet and fill me with guilt and anger and hatred, and I will rue the sight of pom poms and pipe cleaners and reclaimed toilet paper rolls. I derive no joy from the craft itself and frustration from incomplete ones – so I rarely, rarely craft. In so doing, I have freed myself from a needless time suck and sore spot in my life – Pinterest be darned.

We all have things like this in our life. Maybe it’s starting a reorganization project you know you won’t finish, or redoing a bathroom. Perhaps it’s an exercise class you rarely attend, vegetables you buy because they are healthy but you hate, or sending Christmas cards to the people you stopped caring about in Item 3. Be honest – if something isn’t adding value to your life, and more especially if it’s costing money, time, or happy thoughts, let it go. 

5. Opportunity Cost is Still Cost
We all need peace. People who don’t find peace generally end up on the evening news, and not in positive stories. In an accounting class, we learned about opportunity cost – the value/cost you miss out on by doing something else. If you have chocolate cake instead of ice cream, that delicious bowl of frozen goodness was your opportunity cost. If you decide to take a nap instead of going out with your friends, the fun bonding time with your girlfriends was the opportunity cost. Get it?

 If you start looking at your life in terms of opportunity cost, you can become better equipped to make decisions. Yes – that home-cooked kale vegan something or other meal would be healthier for your family than meatballs and spaghetti, but if you’ve had a horrible day or are generally tired, think about the opportunity cost. Kale (which I love btw) or extra time to read stories with your toddler? Maybe the toddler time will add more value to your life. Kale (I really do love it, I’m not lying) or non-relaxing time watching crap on television? Maybe the kale (still loving it) is a better use of your time.

 I can’t tell you what’s more important for yourself, but if you take a minute to think about the opportunity cost of your daily activities, you’ll do a better job of getting some of that much-needed peace and making sure your life is filled with value-added activities.

So, there you have it. Five lessons I learned quickly when life sort of threw me in the blender. When all else fails, just emulate the British and Keep Calm and Carry On. Also, ice cream.

Possibilities

"Rather than starting your day with a stressful list of things you have to do,

 try greeting the day with a joyful list of things you want to do!"

When I make a to-do list for the day, I usually title it "Possibilities". Then I include things I want to do along with the things I need to do. 

Here's my list for today:

Possibilities

-grocery shopping

-clean bathrooms

-babysit 3-6

-crochet (I'm working on a blanket)

-work on newsletter

-make dinner

-read book

-write blog post!

There's a good chance I won't get around to cleaning the bathroom today, but it's just a possibility, so if it's not done, there is always tomorrow.

It's the most wonderful time of the year - back to school!

Does everyone remember this commercial?




That guy is me. Minus the kids. I don't have children in school.

For some odd reason, I am in love with the first week of school. I still remember the smell of the first week of school I used to imagine it smelled of hope and new beginnings (though I now realize it is actually a combination of  bleach and Elmer's glue).

There was nothing quite like opening a brand new box of crayons. Running your fingers over the multicolored points that represented endless possibilities. Speaking of endless possibilities: New notebooks. NEW NOTEBOOKS! In fact, to this day I have never completely filled a notebook.  I usually get about half way through and the call of a fresh pad of paper beckons me to abandon the old and christen the new.

I may sound like a crazy person, but to me the first day of school is akin to New Years day. I remember my first day back to school after a nearly two year hiatus. I was a transfer student at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas (go, Rebels!) and extremely nervous to be back but beyond excited. It was a fresh start, and though I my new supply list was void a brand new box of Crayola's I did revel in the feel of the glossy text book sheets against my fingers. I loved the challenge of a new year, a new environment, and the opportunity of an education.

I am a sucker for the first day of school, which is probably why I married a teacher and also why I majored in Elementary Education. I've enjoyed dozens of my own first days of school, witnessed countless others as my husband ushers in a fresh crop of students each year, but suddenly I am faced with a whole new world of firsts. My oldest daughter is preparing for Kindergarten next year. KINDERGARTEN! It will probably be my best and worst first day of school to date. This morning I drove my dear little darling past her new school. She'll be participating in a special Pre-K class this year. Half the students will be "typical peers" and the other half will have various special needs. The typical peers will help model behavior for the special needs students, while all the students participate in the standard state curriculum for preschool. My daughter has been invited as a typical peer.

As I drove her past her new school I pointed it out of the window. Her eyes grew wide with anticipation, her little legs started kicking with excitement and she asked, "Is that really my school, Mommy? Do I really get to go to a REAL school?" Being an emotional wreck as I usually am, my eyes brimmed with tears of joy at her enthusiasm for learning and the prospect of a new beginning.

I loved every first step on my journey to my degree, and I love that no matter how old or young one might be, you are always being afforded opportunities for an education.

Being Good Enough

A couple of months ago, I was having one of those nights that I'm pretty sure most new mothers have at least once every couple of weeks. (Actually, I'm not sure how long this period lasts, but I'm pretty sure right now I can still lump it officially in with normal baby blues.) I was sobbing to my husband about how I was failing at everything and not doing enough, and I hated that I could never get everything done, and who knows when the last time I managed to vacuum was, and now that the baby is crawling she'll probably find something I didn't vacuum up off the floor and choke on it, but she's just so clingy right now and she hates the noise of the vacuum, and so on and so forth.

And after I'd collected myself a little, my kind husband said, "Meg. Think about what you did today. You got up and nursed the baby. You ate breakfast. We played with the baby. You worked on your lesson for church tomorrow. You nursed the baby again. You took half an hour off to read a book while the baby napped. We went to babysit your brother's kids. You came back, put the baby to bed, finished working on your lesson, and cleaned up the kitchen. Just when were you going to do something else?"

He then went on to tell me that if I was feeling overwhelmed and he wasn't, clearly we needed to reexamine our division of labor. (For the record, my husband is a rock star. He cooks dinner at least as often as I do, is great about taking care of the baby, changes his share of diapers when he isn't at work, and is really good about picking up after himself and doing the dishes without me nagging him about it. I wasn't feeling overwhelmed because he is a bum - just because we're still figuring our lives out.) We talked about adjustments we could make to help me feel more in control of my life, but also talked about how ultimately, I might also need to adjust my expectations about what success entails at this point in my life.

Because honestly, I'm still pretty new at this whole, "My life revolves around a tiny person now" thing. I don't know why I assumed that less than a year in I should have the whole thing figured out. When my daughter is learning something new, I never get frustrated at her because she doesn't do it perfectly at first. I clapped for her the first time she rolled over, even though it took another two months before she could do it on purpose every time. I watched with delight as she tried to sit up and would fold in half and tip over while she tried to grab her feet. I relished her ridiculously ungraceful army crawl with her legs flying in the air for no apparent reason. And then one day, she suddenly had all of these skills mastered.

Except it wasn't sudden, because it took weeks of less-successful practice before she figured out that skill. And now she'll move on to learning to walk and talk and pee in a toilet and a myriad of other skills that she will take some time to master, and I will celebrate her progress along the way - not just when she's totally grown up and has her act together.

So why don't I celebrate my own growth the same way? I may not get the vacuuming done very regularly right now, but I am very good at making my baby laugh. I've figured out how to make baby food; nursing is something that has become completely second nature; I read my baby's cues and know when she is tired, hungry, overstimulated, or just lonesome for Mommy. I've gotten very good at a lot of things that I didn't have a single clue about twelve months ago. And right now, that's more than good enough.

Follow That Dream

 Has anyone ever seen that Elvis movie?  I haven't.  It's just in my DVD collection.  My husband likes it...

So I was watching "Boy Meets World" while my children napped (ah, relaxation!) and it's the episode where Eric becomes a weather man.  *SPOILER ALERT* Turns out he can either be a weather man or graduate from high school.  He talks about how it was always his dream to be a weather man.
I started to think about my dreams, what I always wanted in my life.  Here's my list:

-Graduate (high school and college)
-Get a good job that was fun
-Fall in love
-Get married
-Create a home
-Have children

Those were the big highlights.  Well, I'm 26, and I have accomplished all of my list.  Done, fin. So now what?  I feel a little silly, being an adult and trying to come up with new dreams.  What now?  I have the most wonderful husband (THANKS MEGAN!), 2 gorgeous children, a great home, a degree, and I turned down 2 different job offers in my chosen profession-HR, feel free to laugh and make funny faces, you wouldn't be the first.  Are you ever too old to dream?  Too old to come up with new goals?  I never imagined myself at this point.  I always thought that dreams were life long, that you had them, and they never ended.  But how exciting is this?!?  I have already accomplished so much, and now I can come up with a whole new set of goals. Goals are really just dreams written down, right?  I want to run a 5k, I want to grow a garden, I want to take my children to see magnificent places, I want to get old with my husband, and play with my grandkids, I want to go on a mission for my church, I want to do whatever I want!  Make your dreams monumental, you can do it!  Dream whatever you want, and then do it. Follow that dream :)

90 Years

This is later in the day than we usually post, but it was only a few minutes ago that I learned we needed to have a post. We need to have a post, my lovely friends, because today is the 90th anniversary of the adoption of the amendment that gave women the right to vote. 

The fight for suffrage in the United States began all the way back in 1848. For sixty years, amazing women attended conventions, picketed the White House, marched in protests and demonstrations, and went to jail in the pursuit of equal political rights.


On August 26, 1920, the amendment was finally made official. It's impossible to do justice to all the women who deserve recognition, but today I hope we can remember their sacrifices and honor them all. 

"Don't think about what you can't do, think about what you can do!" --Ni Hao, Kai-Lan

"The older you get, the more you become aware of the things you can't change and the things you can change. Like, do I want to take a year off and travel around the world? Sure! Can I do that? No. [So] what can you do?" --Teri Hatcher

I saw this interview with Teri Hatcher in a friend's copy of People magazine. She was talking about the triathlon in which she participated last September--when she asked herself, "what can you do," the triathlon was the answer. I won't pretend I'm a huge fan of Teri Hatcher, but I think she makes an excellent point here.

Most of us have lists of things we want to accomplish, and sometimes those things are pretty ambitious (like taking a year off to travel around the world). I'm not saying that those things can't be accomplished, and you should definitely not let pessimism stand in the way of getting to do amazing things. But maybe they're justnot the most practical goals for us right now. That doesn't mean that we can't still be doing something worthwhile!

A former roommate's husband wrote a blog post recently that echoes my own feelings about New Year's resolutions (but of course this is applicable to all goals, not just the New Year's ones). Like Teri Hatcher, he points out that sometimes goals need to be smaller--or be broken up into smaller pieces--to be achievable. Instead of getting discouraged by huge goals that seem unattainable, try thinking about something you can do right now, or in the near future, and work toward that. Setting and achieving smaller goals can make it a lot easier to get to those big ones, and in the meantime you'll be getting to do great things.

(In case you're interested, the title of this post comes from an episode of Ni Hao, Kai-Lan in which the kids are disappointed because it started raining, so they can't go outside and do the things they were going to do that day. I know, I know... I'm that cool.)

A Lovely Birthday

Happy birthday Toni Morrison, the first black woman to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature--she is 79 years old today. Her beautiful novels explore the role of black women in a racist, male-dominated society, and if you didn't have to read her books in high school, you should try them out now.

"At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough." --Tar Baby, Toni Morrison's fourth novel

Be Daring

Sometimes I feel like I should be more daring, take more chances, be less responsible (in a good way). If you know me, or if you are my mother, you might just sigh and maybe roll your eyes a bit and listen to me talk about whatever idea I've got in my head at the moment and then change the subject.

The truth of the matter is, I have a lot of ideas. I like to make plans. I like to follow through with my ideas and I have a very VERY hard time being patient during the process. Take this blog, for example. I had the idea and the next day an opportunity to talk about the idea came up and immediately following that conversation, I emailed Megan and Miri to tell them about it. Then I spent the next two weeks completely immersed in getting things started and those two weeks were kind of torturous because I just wanted to get everything going. So this happens to me a lot, with big ideas and little ideas.

My mom would say I follow whims (does that make me a "whimsical" person?). I'm not especially spontaneous or adventurous, but I get an idea and I have to see it through. I could fail miserably. I have failed miserably. But am I worse off for trying? Certainly not. If I hadn't followed a whim or two, I would never have gone to England and France. I wouldn't have found some of my favorite creative outlets. I wouldn't know some of my favorite people. We wouldn't have this blog.

That's me in my always messy short hair adventure having days on the steps of some giant place in Paris.

And still I feel I should be more daring. I never want to feel stuck or trapped or like I'm holding myself back. I like saying things like, "I just did it" when people ask me why I went to England. It's fun to use "just because" as a reason and still feel perfectly, blissfully justified. It's fun because it's exciting and it's irrational and it's daring.

Serve It Up

Friends, it's official. I love to cook.

When I was younger, I was not such a fan. Cooking is messy. It's easy to miss essential ingredients when you're reading the recipe. (Like the time I was 12 and making banana bread and it got all the way to the oven without flour. Luckily my mom saved it before it was too late to add it. I mean, I thought it looked runny, but I didn't know . . .)

Even out on my own as an undergrad I was just kind of "meh" about cooking. I liked doing it when the occasion called for it, but really - when you're cooking for one, Ramen and omelets are sufficient. (To some extent, I still feel this way, although I am intrigued by the title of this book.) It's just hard to motivate yourself to cook when you're the only one who's going to enjoy it.

This year I joined a fabulous dinner group that I've mentioned before on this blog, and I discovered what it is that I really love about cooking. Yes, I love the way things almost always come together, and I love choosing recipes and having them be delicious and feeling like I accomplished something. But what I really love is praise. 

Okay, I'm mostly kidding. (Mostly.) But what I really love about cooking is the satisfaction of making things for other people. It's no fun if I'm the only one who enjoys it. I love cooking for people and having them like it. I love inviting people to come over to eat something I've been wanting to try to make. I love pulling off a really great recipe and seeing people react to it. On Sunday I made buttermilk syrup for a breakfast potluck and got great reactions from the people at the potluck and later from my roommate (an intimidatingly great cook and a foodie), and I couldn't get over how much I loved that people loved it. I especially loved having people ask whether I'd tried the syrup when they didn't know I'd made it. (I told them though - because I'm selfish like that, even when it's some little four-ingredient thing like syrup.)

I guess you can take one of three messages from this. 1) Megan is an attention-monger who needs constant validation and therefore cooks get people to tell her how awesome she is. (This is kind of true. I won't deny it.) 2) It's okay to enjoy doing things because you're good at them - especially if other people benefit from you being good at them. (I like this one because it has that "don't hide your talents" aspect but there's still a little angle for you in there.)

3) Some things are just better when you do them for other people.

We talk a lot about ourselves on this blog, and I think that's okay. Taking care of yourself enables you to better take care of other people, because good emotional, physical, mental, spiritual health for you = lovely, charming, easy-to-be-around you. We also talk a lot about things that we do for other people, which is great. The fastest way to increase your loveliness is to serve other people. But in case it hasn't been explicitly stated yet, I'm going to say it: sometimes doing things for other people is the best thing you can do for yourself. 

Some friends enjoying the result of a day and a half of brining, peeling, and baking. My roommate and I talked about how awesome we were for days because we'd pulled off a nearly perfect Thanksgiving - but the best part was serving it to our friends who couldn't make it home for the holiday. 

I don't like cooking if I'm the only one who is going to enjoy the end result, but it's become something that I really love to do. (For the record, I still enjoy the cooking, even if I don't get an awesome reaction to the food. But I definitely prefer cooking things that are awesome and more likely to elicit a response.) Maybe some of the reasons for that are selfish ones, but really, do you think anyone decided to make the world a better place without first thinking he or she might like to live in a better place?

Come on.


BONUS: 


Buttermilk Syrup

1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla

Combine butter, sugar and buttermilk in a medium sauce pan. Bring to a boil, stirring frequently.

Boil 2 minutes. Note: This can get messy, so you might want to use a bigger pan than you really need to avoid having it boil over.

Add baking soda. Mixture will fizz. Stir, then add vanilla. Remove from heat. Serve.

Refrigerate leftovers.

Guest Post: What It Takes

Amy (or AHP as my sister and I lovingly refer to her) used to work with my sister when they were both single and living in Northern Virginia. That's where I met her and learned that she can whistle beautifully and that she is one of the nicest people on earth. Now she's married with three beautiful children and navigating a new life in Idaho. I may have read this post on her blog and asked if I could steal it, but getting permission means it isn't stealing so we're good.


Several weeks ago we were up late with our youngest, Diddles, who had another cold. Josh turned on this Discovery Channel show called Two Weeks in Hell. It documents the selection process of the elite Army special forces unit, the Green Beret. I watched these poor men and boys withstanding physical, mental and emotional tests with each challenge and mission. As the narrator explained "what it takes," I got thinking about motherhood and what it takes.

Not to in any way demean the Green Berets and the work that they do (or any member of the armed forces), but I found myself almost empathizing with them! I could see similar requirements in things that I do day to day. Some days I am in awe of the things I'm somehow able to physically and emotionally accomplish. It's hard work being a mom sometimes! I got thinking about what the motherhood tryout would look like, and this is what I came up with.

On no more than four hours of sleep each night for at least three weeks, complete the following. You may wish for this to end after two weeks, but don't worry.
It won't!

__________________________________________________________________

Plan an entire week's worth of meals for a family of four, that picky children will eat, and only spend $100. Your grocery list will be taken from you upon entry to the store, forcing you to shop from memory.

Drive to an unknown location in the dark, during a snowstorm with the directions "in your head," while three children are buckled behind you whining, screaming or demanding food. It gives a whole new meaning to psychological warfare!

Make lunches for two children while they inform you that they are "starving" every five seconds and threaten to "just get whatever we want" if you don't comply. Carry on a conversation with your husband over the phone while balancing your baby in your other arm. You must also use a knife and a cheese slicer at the same time.

Carry a full basket of laundry down two flights of stairs (with a landing in between) with a baby in a front-pack. You are walking blind and building upper-body strength. A fall could maim you and injure your baby, not to mention spill your laundry!

Decode foreign languages (screaming tantrum) and execute a strategy which not only maintains your authority, but also dispels the incident. Do this in very open and public places - church, the library, grocery store, etc. No physical violence may be used on others... or on yourself.

Pick up, nurse, burp, diaper, and dress a fussy baby on demand, night after night. Do so in pitch darkness in order to gain more than four hours of sleep each night. One can hope!

Serve a peace-keeping mission each day amongst often hostile forces (who have not napped), encouraging "friendly fire," open trade, and positive communication between nations.

Colds, sicknesses and viruses will seek you out and attempt to destroy you. You must press on.

Morning sickness. It will show you no mercy.

What would be on YOUR list?

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Today I was explaining to the kids that some mommies go to work and the kids go to the babysitter. This was a totally foreign concept for them. They were honestly having a hard time even processing it. Mommies going to work and not staying home with their kids? I'm grateful for the opportunity that I have to stay home with my kids and see the milestones, the smiles, the "wins." Despite the above tests, which are sometimes failed, the prize is far greater than an award, a green beret, or even a pay check. I get to see smiles on my kids' faces and know in my heart (sometimes deep in my heart) that I'm doing a "great work." "For out of small things, proceedeth that which is GREAT."

Be Handy

I spend a lot of time sitting in front of a computer - for work, for school, for recreation - it's all the same and it isn't all satisfying. I mean sure, I do good work on a computer, but when, after hours of sitting and typing all I have to show is a bunch of so-called "files" and "letters" on a screen - I mean, are those even real? :)

I was listening to this NPR podcast called To the Best of Our Knowledge, and there was a guy talking about the value of physical work and how it's becoming a lost art. Many of the "blue collar" professions are looked down on because we tend to value knowing things over knowing how to do things. The guy they were interviewing had written a book called Shop Class as Soul Craft. The guy had a doctorate in philosophy but he wanted to talk about why manual work is important - in general for the world at large and specifically for the people who do it. If you're curious, you can listen to it here. (I think it's the second segment of the show.)

About the time I moved away from home, I discovered that I really like putting things together or fixing things. I don't mean really complicated things like toasters. I mean easy things like clogged sinks (see photo) and smelly hair-filled vacuums. (Now that I think of it, many of the things I fix involve cleaning up after hair-shedding incidents.) I also like putting things together, like furniture from IKEA or floor lamps from Shopko. I like sewing on buttons and gluing things and hanging pictures (hammer time!) and anything else that involves doing something that ultimately results in something working better or looking better or coming together. (Strangely, cleaning never falls into this category, although I do like vacuuming. Dusting just seems like a losing battle against entropy, doesn't it?)

I like the feeling of self-reliance I get from fixing something or building something. I like knowing that I'm not afraid to stick my hand in the back of a toilet, and that usually I can solve the puzzle back there and get it to stop running. (Although sometimes this does involve a phone call to my dad, but being able to explain the problem and follow directions is also fulfilling.) It's satisfying to look at something, see what the problem is, remove the problem and move on with your life (usually with a clean floor and a quiet toilet).

One of my dad's very favorite quotes is from this ridiculous Canadian comedy show called Red Green. (It's on PBS and it's all about flannel shirts and duct tape. I offer an example below in case you're curious.) Anyway, the quote is "If the women don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy."

Now, let's be clear. I'm not advocating that you all go out and buy stacks of duct tape. That's not what this blog is about. But I think that sometimes feeling a little handy can create loveliness - around you and within you - just because you confronted hair in your drain and came out victorious. Build a shelf. Pick up a wrench. Use a hot glue gun. You'll like it.

Accomplishments

I've mentioned this book before (Exactly As I Am by Shaun Robinson) and I decided that instead of giving you a review, I would simply recommend it and share a few of my favorite quotes. It's an interesting book and a quick read and I've enjoyed the different points of view it offers from celebrities, athletes and other successful women.

A lot of what is mentioned on this blog has to do with accomplishments. Being crafty, cooking, cleaning, writing, etc. are all things that we can accomplish and, in turn, feel good about. As much as I hate to clean, I always feel better having done it, and I always feel good about myself when I complete a project. This quote about accomplishments, big and small, stood out to me today.

"We currently live in a culture that celebrates celebrity, appearance, even notoriety - all of which have very little content and meaning. For me, the root of self-esteem is accomplishment, both big and small. An accomplishment is something of value - whether it is the ability to make others comfortable, build something with your hands, read well for comprehension - anything, absolutely anything that you do that has meaning for you. And that you derive pleasure from! I think that many girls are misled, these days, by a culture that celebrates the superficial.

What matters most (more than what you look like, how much you weigh, where you came from, your financial status - all those things we think matter) is who you are and what you care about. Find meaning in your life, search for purpose, strive toward understanding your world and contributing to it, no matter what it is. If it is of consequence to you, it is important." - Julianne Moore