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 :)

Screen-Free Week: A Pledge

A couple of months ago, I got a smart phone. And it is great. But I kind of always have this nagging feeling that it has taken over my life, and I haven't quite figured out what to do about it.

The other night I was reading an article on Power of Moms about Screen Free Week, which is next week, April 29th-May 5th. My daughter isn't old enough to have any screen time really, but I started thinking about my own screen time, and suddenly I really wanted to participate. At first I thought, "But I can't do that, because I don't really watch things on TV (just on Netflix and Hulu) and I need my phone and computer for . . ." I started thinking about the things I actually NEED to use my screens for, and I realized that compared to the number of things I actually use them for, the number is small.

For screen-free week, kids are asked to give up ALL recreational screen time. They are allowed to use the computer when it's necessary for their homework assignments, and that's it.  My husband said he would go no screen with me, but his job relies very heavily on using a computer, so he'll just eliminate all extraneous screen use. For me, that's a little squishier, so I'm setting some specific limits according to the things that are "needs," sort of.

1. I can keep this blog running by checking once in the morning to make sure posts go up, and once in the evening to make sure posts are scheduled for the next day. I will probably ask one of the other contributors to take care of the blog promotion via facebook and pinterest. I should limit this time to half an hour or less total for the day.
2. I can send picture messages of CB to her grandparents, else they will suffer serious withdrawals. Other pictures and videos I want to take of her need to be done with my camera to keep my phone from being a constant temptation in my hand.
3. I can check my email once a day to make sure I don't miss anything time-sensitive and essential, and I can reply to things that fall into those categories. 
4. I can answer text messages, but not initiate long text conversations just because I'm bored. 

Here are some of the things I want to do during the week (which I am listing now so I won't suffer withdrawals and wonder what to do with my life.

• Organize my closet and ditch the clothes I no longer wear because they are from my freshman year of college.
• Use the fabric I've been saving and sew myself a bag from one of the bags I have pinned on pinterest (print before the week begins). 
• Make the Mother's Day presents I've been wanting to make for my mom and mother-in-law.
• Go to the library and check out books for myself and CB.
• Start a new book to fill the hole left by my recently finished Malcolm Gladwell book.
• Cook something new and exciting.
• Finish getting the spare room ready for our home-stay Korean student, who will be here in a week.
• Go for lots of walks.
• Listen to more music and podcasts while working on things (rather than sticking the TV on in the background.) 
• Finish/start my spring cleaning.
• Spend time at the park with my husband and baby.

When I finish, I'm going to write a post about it, so look forward to that. And if you want to join me, you'd better tell me now before I unplug! 

"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself." - George Bernard Shaw

Guest Post: Offer Compassion

By now you are probably familiar with my wonderful sister-in-law Julie. She is an awesome person and a frequent guest post contributer, and we're delighted to have her back. Please enjoy. 

People really do not know what to say. And if they do think they know, most likely it is not the right words. You have lost a loved one, and there are no words that can comfort. You have lost your job in a bad economy and don’t know what to do. You break up with the best guy or your marriage is falling apart. Are there comforting words for that? How about not getting in to your number one college pick or failing a class? That feels devastating. Your life feels ruined. People want to comment and support you with reassuring words of comfort. But there are no words to bring back one who has passed on, to make a boy love you, to make an employer hire you, or to make a college accept you. But somehow, we all say something. And usually these words do not comfort.

I have a daughter who is visually impaired. Her limitations are still undefined, as she is surprising us daily with what she can and cannot do. But she is learning Braille and will never be able to drive. She will have some serious disadvantages in life.

When she was a sweet little baby, I shared my grief with many. And what did most say? Many supportive things that were supposed to make me feel better. “Well she may never be able to see the mountains or birds in the distance but she will be able to see them in a book.” The intent of this comment was to cheer me up, yet made my grief seem silly. “It is not too bad, look, she is smiling at me. She can obviously see.” These words of support made me feel like I was wrong to believe the doctor’s prognosis. Again, my grief was not validated. Most comments felt hurtful, and many still are. 

I, too, have stuck my foot in my mouth in an attempt to comfort others. I believe we all have. Our intent is to love and show support. I now take every insensitive comment as it is meant to be. To put it simply: people want to be helpful and ease your pain. There is no need to take it personally or get upset and see it for what it is not. For it is compassion in its most awkward form.

In the four years I have grieved over my daughter’s disability, only a handful of comments have touched my heart. They have all been from other mothers who have experienced the same grief with disabled children. One good neighbor told me this, and it was what I felt in my heart, but could not yet realize. She said, “You will always hurt. When you look at other children her age doing things she cannot, you will hurt. You will cry. And you will move on.” It was true and it was beautiful. And I do this regularly. It has stood the test of time.

What can be said in situations like this? Any loving and positive words will do, including a big hug. “I love you. Can I help? Call me when you need a friend to listen. Let me take you to lunch.” Don’t try to SOLVE their problem, or RELATE to it, or tell them it will be okay. Offer compassion. VALIDATE their emotions. We all want our feelings to be realized.

Stealing Second

“Progress always involves risk; you can’t steal second base and keep your foot on first base.” — Frederick Wilcox

Make Love Your Motive

A combination of too much Doctor Who this week, several recent church meetings and Facebook chat sessions, some sushi lunches with a friend of mine who calls me his dating advisor, and some pent up ideas from the last three years of my life have culminated in my thinking some really deep thoughts about love. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how well those ideas are going to come across for people who haven't experienced this particular combination of events. I'm asking those of you not on a Doctor Who bender to please, bear with me.

Hopefully you won't finish this post and feel like this.

I do this weird thing where I latch on to random moments in my life and build all of my personal philosophies around them. For example, about three years ago I was in this leadership meeting, and someone said, "What if the only question you had to answer when your life was over was "Did you learn to love?'" (This wasn't romantic love we were talking about - just your everyday "love thy neighbor" sort.) This really struck a chord with me. I remember thinking about it a few months later when I was discovering that sometimes loving people that way can be really hard - even painful. It's not like you can just resort to a breakup when it's a friend instead of a boyfriend, especially when that person really needs you to keep loving them.

Then one night when I was talking to a friend about some of my concerns and guilt about not knowing how to keep loving this person, he said, "Maybe that's what real love is - loving someone even when it's hard and you don't think you can. Maybe that's what makes your ability to love grow."

So I had these two thoughts floating around - what if learning to love were all that mattered, and what if the way to learn was to keep loving, especially when it's hard? And I wasn't entirely sure that either of these ideas were really viable, but they helped me to figure out how to respond to my life at the time, and then I just filed them away for a little while and didn't think about them.

Then on Sunday, I was in a church meeting and my friend Kristen was giving a talk. There was a lot of great stuff about Nancy Drew and jazz music, but the part that really got to me was when she said that at some point in her life, she decided to make love her motive for whatever she did. She worked at it for several months, always responding to hard situations involving other people by thinking, "Love is my motive. Love is my motive." Then one day there was an accident and her brother dropped a crash cymbal on her guitar and broke it - and instead of being upset about the guitar, her first thought was for him and the way he'd be feeling, and she responded to him instead of to the damage to her guitar.

I remembered those ideas about love that I'd had, and suddenly (in light of this new information) everything became new and applied to my life now and to all of those love-related ideas I'd been mulling over while watching Doctor Who and eating sushi and chatting on Facebook. Loving is important - maybe the most important thing I can learn to do. Continuing to love when it's hard increases my capacity to love. Loving is a skill I can acquire with practice.


And then I thought, "Isn't it amazing how these ideas still work for me now, even though my concerns about loving people are different now? They're so adaptable! They can apply to all different kinds of love - even the kinds I don't know about yet!"

But of course they are - because love is adaptable. You can apply love to anyone and anything - and with love as your motive, how far off can your actions be? It just takes a little practice.

Don't Be a Victim of the Mirror

I'm a librarian in embryo, so naturally I enjoy the song "Librarian" by My Morning Jacket. I was surprised when looking through the lyrics to see some actual depth in the song besides, "Take off your glasses and let down your hair for me." Bear with me for a minute through the cheesy librarian references and some kind of forced rhymes.

"Duck into the men's room, combing through my hair

When God gave us mirrors, he had no idea.

Looking for a lesson in the periodicals

There I spy you listening to the AM radio

Karen of the Carpenters, singing in the rain

Another lovely victim of the mirror's evil way

It's not like you're not trying with a pencil in your hair

To defy the beauty the good Lord put there."

I remember the first time I heard about Karen Carpenter dying of an eating disorder. I thought, "How could someone with such a beautiful voice care so much about her weight that she ended up destroying her heart?" Obviously there's a lot more to anorexia and similar diseases than just wanting to be skinny. At the same time, I don't think I know a single woman who is completely satisfied with how she looks, no matter how together her life is. She needs to lose five or ten pounds. Her hair is too thin (or too thick, long, short, brown, stringy, etc.) Her eyelashes are too short. Her lips are too big (or too small). We never think, "Wow, I sure am great at my job," and then feel like we are good to go, nor do we think (often enough), "My, aren't my eyes a lovely shade of green? Isn't my hair shiny this morning?"

We've talked about this issue before - think positively about how great you are and you feel like you are great. I'd like to add something to that. Don't "defy the beauty the good Lord put there." You are great. People love you, and there are reasons that they love you. Don't forget to count those when you're tallying up who you are.

In closing, I'd like to add this quote by e.e. cummings. (I told you I had e.e. cummings quotes saved up. Just wait. There are more.) "To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting."

A Little Mental Exercise

There's nothing like exercising your brain to make you feel lovely. It's easy to get so busy with all the little things in life that you forget there's a whole world of things going on outside, with important issues and things to think about.

For about a month now I've been in kind of a posting slump. The holidays kind of fried my brain, I guess; from the time that we took our holiday blog hiatus until about a week ago, I hardly posted anything that wasn't a book review on my personal blog, and the few things I posted here were quotes. I tried again and again to think of things to write, but came up with nothing.

Then I came across the current batch of books I'm reading. In case you don't know, I read pretty much more than I do anything else. So it isn't unusual for me to read a lot of books at once--what was unusual this time was the books themselves. They were books that made me think.

• The Lacuna, by Barbara Kingsolver. It's a historical novel about a fictional writer who grows up in Mexico, lives with famous revolutionary artists Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, and works for Leon Trotsky, one of the leaders of the Bolshevik revolution in Russia. When he's older, he lives in America during World War II and the subsequent horrors of the Red Scare.
• Empire, by Orson Scott Card. I got pretty worked up reading this book, which is about a possible future involving a second American civil war. And when I say future I don't mean Ender's Game-type future. It is terrifying because there is very little in it that couldn't happen tomorrow.
• Animal, Vegetable, Mineral: A Year of Food Life, also by Barbara Kingsolver, is on my nonfiction list for the reading challenge I'm doing this year. It's about a year during which her family lived off only the food they raised themselves on their farm in Appalachia, and it discusses the horrible food practices in the U.S. today. You would not believe some of the things that go on in our food industry--for example, the fact that the average item on the average American family's dinner table traveled 1500 miles to get there, and that if every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week that was only organic locally-grown food, we could save something like 1 million barrels (not gallons, barrels) of oil. How's that for addressing the oil crisis? And no one even has to buy a hybrid!

What I want to point out is that since I started reading these books, I am a posting fiend. I have ideas about things again; I have things I want to say, and I'm writing posts so fast that we have them scheduled days in advance. My posting slump is over.

So if you want to give yourself a boost and maybe remember that you used to be interested in things besides the newest episode of Ni Hao, Kai-Lan (or your newest homework assignment or project at work or whatever)... try picking up a book that will make you think. Grab the biography of one of those crazy politicians we always have an abundance of. Check out a book in a genre you've never read before. Ask a friend for a recommendation. Ask me for a recommendation! And if you don't have a lot of time to sit and read, look for some audiobooks at the library (don't buy them unless you know you'll like them, they're expensive) and listen while you're doing the dishes, folding laundry, or driving around. Give yourself the chance to think about some things that are going on in the world--it's amazing how quickly you can start to feel like a person again.

Be Kind

The other night I was talking to a friend about fun, gossipy, drama-filled things, and I got a little carried away. I suddenly realized after one of my friend's responses that I had been saying things about people that I really liked that I didn't really mean or want to say about them, just because I was enjoying the thrill of the drama. I felt stupid and humbled and wished I could take back what I said and replace it with only the good things I see in these people.


That was when I started thinking about this song by David Wilcox. Dave tends to get a little cheesy sometimes, but in spite of it, he always feels very sincere and true to me. (I think the word that could best be applied to his music is "earnest.") Anyway, he has a song called "Kindness" (see a live performance on Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fSlMAdFe4BY) that I've always kind of liked, either despite or because of this earnestness. Here are a couple of stanzas:

I love your sense of humor

I love to see you smile

I love your sense of balance

I love your sense of time

I love your music in the morning

Your rhythm in the night

But it's your kindness

That shines so bright . . .

Yes I love your wisdom

Your knowledge of the past

Your willingness to listen

And taste for what will last

Your compassion for the suffering

And your solid happiness

But it's your kindness that I love best

I think the thing I love about this is the way it goes through so many qualities that I love - in others, in myself - and then tops them all with kindness and compassion. Is there any better testament to what makes you lovely than that? Yes, your sense of humor, your intelligence, your education, your wisdom and all of those things you love make you lovely, but it's kindness that makes the biggest impact on the people around you.

Guest Post: Wanted

Guest post by Julie, who, let's face it, is probably more like an honorary fourth contributor to this blog than a guest.

"Is it destruction that you're required to feel like somebody wants you?"
From "Pretty (Ugly Before)" by Elliott Smith

Meg used these song lyrics in her introduction. They pulled me in. I want to talk about them. Is the answer yes or no? Who requires of us to want to be wanted? What is the ultimate objective of being wanted? I want to talk about being wanted, in the desire and pursuit of love.

As a woman I want a romance. I want the Confederate wedding to Rhett Butler and the happily ever after with all his smuggling-earned money. It is seared in my soul along with the girlhood memory of Aladdin taking Jasmine on a magic carpet ride. I was addicted to boys by first grade and declared my love to Mark in a folded love letter which I never gave him. I was in love with Mark until 8th grade, with the exception of my mad obsession with adorable Rhett in 4th. Why are girls obsessed with boys? Are we obsessed with boys, or do we just want to be wanted? Are these two separate things? Being wanted feels good. Being NEEDED is even better, like being picked first for dodge ball. It feeds our self value, ego, social status.

Yes, society is causing the destruction of young unguided girls in the desire of love. Entertainment is distorting love and glorifying physical desire. Love is on everyone’s mind. It feels required of us to seek love. But here is the fact. It is not required.

I have hope for the swooning female gender. Women can successfuly want to be wanted without destruction! It is healthy emotion to want to be wanted. It is how you ingest these feelings that makes the difference. You make the choice: succumb to pressure from society, obsess over love's pursuit and your worthiness, or pursue your own personal happiness and love. Do you want to love? To be loved in return? If the answer is yes then seek it, watch for it, wait for it, and enjoy the pursuit of it. But no one can love a broken obsessed you (unless you meet Brady Black from Days of our Lives. He could fix you). Become the one you want to be. Then, wanting to be loved cannot destroy your soul, only make it more beautiful.

God bless us, every one.

“Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.” — Charles Dickens

That middle one might be one of the hardest things a person can try to do, but if you can manage the other two, the third will come along eventually. Remember that everyone has problems, and you don't know what they are. If you assume that everyone is trying their hardest and doing their best, you'll find it a lot easier to accept them when they fail.

Be Brave

Continuing some themes we seem to have going this week, I want to talk about being brave.

I don't think of myself as a particularly courageous person. I don't even like calling strangers on the phone. I'm terrified of spiders, I have dreams about going blind at least once a month, and I still run up the stairs really fast when it's dark in the basement. I get lightheaded in job interviews, I have panic attacks driving in the snow, and I covered my eyes during most of The Grudge.

So during the last year and a half there was a long series of events that led to me moving to Indiana. Most of those events involved my plans for my life falling through or not being what I thought they would be, and nothing worked until I decided I had to go away to grad school (rather than completing a program online while working at the BYU library, as was my original plan).

I wasn't completely sure I wanted to move across the country. I was terrified, and it was even worse when I got there and had to put my dad on a plane the next morning. I wanted nothing more than to get in my car and drive back home. My dad even told me that if I didn't like it by the time the tuition reimbursement deadline came up, I could drop my classes and come home. (Yeah. It was that bad.)

Thankfully, I stuck it out past the first few days. As it turns out, moving to Indiana was exactly what I needed. I'd been in the same place for a long time, and although it was fun and safe and familiar, I was really stuck. I wasn't really all that happy with where my life was, no matter how much I loved my roommates and loved being able to go home for birthday parties on the weekends; now I'm really happy.

And I guess that's the point of all of this. Sometimes you get stuck, and then you either have to be happy being stuck or you have to do something you're afraid to do - get a new job, move to a new place, start a new relationship, climb a mountain, run away to London, (I moved to Indiana only after I'd done that one twice), change your major, buy a puppy - scary stuff like that. And don't decide not to do it just because you never have or because it will be scary. I'm beginning to realize that some of my best decisions have been the ones I was most afraid to make.

I'm posting this video because this song is one of those that I like to listen to when I'm afraid to do something. The title is roughly, "No, I regret nothing." Even if you don't understand it (two years of college French and I still don't catch all of it), I think the feeling comes through just fine.

http://www.youtube.com/v/0YkLq6J_6cA&hl=en_US&fs=1&%22

Go For The Gold

#215--Pursue more than just the things you are good at.

You will be told at a young age what your talents are. Enjoy the compliments, but don’t accept them at face value. You don’t want to walk a narrow path; attempt things you aren’t comfortable with and uncover skills or proclivities you didn’t know you possessed.
(from Prudent Baby)

I think a lot of people see themselves as static, as something like a character in a movie: you have certain likes and dislikes, you are good at certain things, you aren't good at others. You have certain personality traits; you like certain kinds of music and watch certain TV shows; you don't like certain foods; all those kinds of things. That is how I often perceive myself, and I blame this partially on those little "about me" blurbs we're always having to write--writing about who you are in a short paragraph is very difficult, and so we write about what we like instead, and then start to think of those two things as the same. They aren't.

My aunt Angela was an opera singer until she was around 40 (I don't remember her exact age). I remember going to her concerts when I was younger, thinking she was amazing. But she never progressed to where she wanted to be. Short story short: one day she went to a craft store, bought a block of clay, and in six hours discovered that she has an amazing talent for sculpting. She's been doing it for several years now, and has truly found her calling. Her sculptures are incredible, and you would never know that this is something she never even tried until her 40s. (Thanksgiving Point, in Utah, is going to have a lot of her sculptures on display in a sculpture garden.)

So the moral of the story is, don't put yourself in a box. The fact that you haven't discovered a talent yet doesn't mean you don't have it; you were not fully formed when you graduated from high school. Don't be afraid to try new things, even if you have no reason to think you'll succeed at them. Life is for experiencing things. Don't limit yourself to staying the same person you've always been; give yourself room to grow, to develop new talents and hobbies, to change old habits and become who you want to be.

Don't Tweeze Your Life Away

I'm about to give you the deepest reading on tweezers that you have ever read. Yes, deeper than all of those other readings on tweezers that you have on your bookshelves.

I have a love/hate relationship with my tweezers.

I love them because it bugs me when there are hairs about that I don't want, and with tweezers I can easily eliminate it. And I don't know if anyone has noticed, but pulling out an obnoxious, unwanted hair is really satisfying. (Is this just me? Is that a really freaky confession?)

I hate them because they're the reason that I'm bugged by the unwanted hair in the first place. Why did I ever start picking away at my eyebrows? Why do any of us? Just because Carmindy tells us we should? And I know why and probably won't stop, but it's really, really annoying - especially when you just want to get that hair out and you can't quite get it. You know what I'm talking about. (Or this is all a very freaky confession, as postulated above.)

And the more I think about it, the more I think this is what I do with my life in general. I pick away at the little, insignificant imperfections that no one else notices and I pick at them obsessively. But it never makes my life better to just keep plucking at it. Thinking about the things I didn't finish (or even attempt) today makes me feel sick to my stomach, but it doesn't make them done. Thinking about the imperfections with the little things about the way I look just makes me dissatisfied with the overall product without making anything better.

Sometimes I feel like the picture I've included here (which, by the way, displays the freckle in my eye). It's like I have perfectly plucked eyebrows but forgot to wash all of the green dust off my face. I don't want that to be my life. I want to focus on making myself better in the big things in life instead of getting stymied by the little things that I just can't . . . quite . . . get . . .

My final thought comes from T.S. Eliot. I was re-reading some of his poems the other night (because I promised my roommate that anyone could enjoy poetry if he or she didn't have boring poetry rammed down his or her throat and I was trying to decide whether "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" could fall into the category of "not boring poetry" for someone who isn't me) and I came across these lines:

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse

For I have known them all already, known them all:-

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music of a father room.

So how should I presume?

The first part of this is the part that everyone remembers, and I've always liked it, but the part that stuck out to me this time was "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons." I like that imagery of measuring your life with an action so insignificant and precise, always wondering whether you could presume to know or do more than is expected of someone in so tiny a life as yours. The problem is that if we wait and wonder "Do I dare and do I dare?" for too long, our life ends up like Prufrock, with us saying, "That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all."

So you can take this literally or figuratively. Worry less about your tweezers (or whatever tiny thing bugs you about your appearance) and/or worry less about the tiny, precise things that bother you about your life and think more in terms of presuming than in terms of measuring with tiny spoons.

Guest Post: Lori

Lori was one of my good friends in high school, and I saw her a lot because we were in marching band together, had most of the same classes, and even got our first jobs at the same movie theater. She is super smart and has an artistic flair in everything she does. Lori lives in Texas with her husband and two adorable dogs; she currently works for the American Heart Association but her passions include cooking, gardening, and writing. --Miri

For as long as I can remember in my adolescent life, I have had stage fright. However, one of my fondest memories of my childhood was a day that my parents took me to some kind of fair and I was volunteered to be the lead in an impromptu play. In my young and innocent mind, I remember being brilliant, but then my adult brain takes over and tells me that that couldn’t possibly be so. Why is it that as we get older, we start putting so much emphasis on what other people think? For me, it gets to a point where I am actually holding back so much I make myself miserable. My husband and I were at the Shops at Legacy one night when there was a cover band playing on the street. For the most part, except for a select few that I am insanely envious of (my husband being one of them), all the adults were sitting, standing with crossed arms, or completely ignoring the music. But the children were a different story, dancing and thrashing about, having a grand ol’ time. And as much as I wanted to, I could not bring myself to move to the music.

I probably gave myself IBS during my first year at college, because as a music major, I was required to play—alone—on a stage, very frequently. To this day I’m not sure how I had the nerve to do so, but these were some of the most frightening and gratifying times in my life. I remember the nights before trying to come up with reasons to get out of the performance (breaking my own finger being one of them!). I also remember breaking out in a cold sweat right before I went on, trembling like that last leaf holding onto the branch for dear life before the barren winter takes hold of it. But then adrenaline and muscle memory takes over and before I know it, I'm playing my last note... and then, the beautiful applause. I would immediately start scrutinizing my mistakes, but as I look back on those performances I think, who would have known (other than my fellow flautists) that I had played the end note at forte instead of piannisimo?

One of my recent goals is to “speak” at a spoken word event at the Dallas Museum of Art. I’ve fantasized about doing so, and have even gone so far as to pick out a piece of prose to present. But just thinking about it makes my stomach flip. On the other hand, what kind of life am I living without experiencing stomach flipping events? Am I just taking the safe road through life? Perhaps these are the experiences that really define me as a person... and I'm sure in 40 years if I never take the risk I will sincerely regret it.

Be Someone (or something) Else

Don't worry, the title of this post is meant to be deceiving. We really do want you all to be yourselves. I'm just talking about Halloween.

I know it. I'm super attractive.

I love Halloween. It is my second favorite holiday (trumped only by Christmas) because it lets me dress up. I have always been a fan of dress ups. My next door neighbors had all sorts of dress ups and I'm pretty sure I wore them even when we weren't playing a game that required dressing up. Sitting watching a movie? Yeah. Of course I wore a fake mink stole and petticoat. Who wouldn't?

3/4 of Teen Girl Squad and a dead bride - I swear these are really good costumes and not just white t-shirts.

Now that I am an adult, I jump at any chance where I am allowed (even better, encouraged) to dress up and still be considered an adult (who is not crazy). I am happy to play dress ups with my nephews and niece and even happier to make things for them to play dress ups with. I start planning for Halloween months before, waiting for the perfect inspiration then gathering materials for a costume.

A Halloween masterpiece. Dyno Attacking an Angel with a Pumpkin.

I like to do something different each year so I don't get bored...and because I really like the "gathering materials for a costume" part. I like that part so much, I do it for my nephews as well (this year's costumes are "boy witch" and black cat).

Really, though, I love Halloween because it gives me the chance to step outside of my comfort zone. I hate stepping outside of my comfort zone when I know other people aren't doing the same thing. Halloween is the one day where I know everyone else feels and looks just as crazy as I do. It's refreshing and fun.

Need a costume for three? How about The Fates? That's us with Cleopatra and a Black and White film star. I made those greek costumes out of bedsheets and cheap dresses from the thrift store...by hand. We are all lucky they did not fall off our bodies while we were dancing, because that is definitely something I was worried about.

Also, fake eyelashes. Fake eyelashes are the key to any costume and the most important ingredient when trying to achieve Halloween loveliness. Try it out this year, I promise it is worth it.

Notice the luscious lashes? Fake. Totally fake. Also, amazing.

Art Journaling

With Lindsey's "Be Crafty" post in mind, I would like to share something that I've just discovered with you. Mike and I are at Barnes and Noble using our laptops and the free wi-fi connection. Our usual tables in the cafe were taken when we got here, so we picked a spot in the back corner of the store, which happened to be in the middle of the crafts section. There I found the book that I would like to tell you about.

It's called Journal Spilling: Mixed-Media Techniques for Free Expression, by Diana Trout, and it is essentially a book on how to unlock your artistic side and be able to create things even if you don't know how. I think the blurb on the back explains it pretty well: "Go ahead--make a mess! There are no lines to stay inside of here. You're free to quiet your inner critic and spill color (as well as your thoughts) all over the page." In this book Diana Trout explains techniques and walks you through new experiments with paints, stamps, crayons, sewing paper, collages, carbon paper, gesso (whatever that is!) and all kinds of other things. She calls it art journaling, and there are beautiful pictures on every page of journal pages that she has done, including detailed descriptions of all the steps. She also has a blog where you can see a lot of the stuff she's done.

It first caught my attention because of the pretty cover, and then I picked it up because it actually looks very similar to something called giant

journaling that Megan, Lindsey, and I have all been doing for several years now. Giant journaling is called that because it is done in--three guesses--a giant journal. These are just 11x14 hardbound sketchbooks that you can get at Michael's. Anyway, the reason giant journaling is great is that you don't have to have any artistic talent to do it. (Aside from stick figures, the only thing I can draw is the rear end of an elephant. Don't ask where it came

from--I have no idea.) You can just put whatever you want on the page--photos, construction paper, scrapbook paper, magazine clippings, concert tickets, ribbon, yarn, paint, fabric, whatever. You can write like it's a journal, and you can decorate like it's a scrapbook, but without worrying

that you'll mess up the page. (I used to scrapbook, but it turns out total lack of artistic ability + almost OCD perfectionism = not conducive to working in a pretty scrapbook where everything just looks so permanent.) Anyway. We got the idea of giant journaling from a former roommate, whose family has done giant journaling for a while. They also have a blog where you can get lots of ideas, or you could always ask one of us. :)

So the moral of the story is, once again, get out there and create something. There are lots of different ways to do it; no matter what your strengths or weaknesses are, there is something you can do. You just have to find it.

Enjoy Being a Girl

I have four brothers, which I may have mentioned before. And let's be clear here - my brothers are AWESOME. Really, they are.

See?

However. For me, there was something about being the only girl that made it hard for me to embrace all girliness - or at least to openly embrace it. Sure, there were dolls and tea parties (many of both) and lots of pink and all that, but I didn't want my brothers to know that I thought girly thoughts - had crushes on boys, liked chick flicks, wanted to wear makeup, etc. (I'm pretty sure they figured out that I liked these things anyway, but when you have four brothers you either learn to deal with teasing or you try to avoid being teased - usually a combination of both.)

And to some extent, I convinced myself that these things were true. I'm still not very open about having crushes, I don't love chick flicks and don't admit to loving all of the ones I do, and I still pretend that I don't love putting on makeup every morning. (But can I be honest? Except when I'm running late and wish I didn't care about what I look like without makeup - which is a topic for another post - I love putting on makeup.)

But the truth is, I love many things about being a girl in the very stereotypical sense. Sure, I still have a tomboy side and a feminist side and all kinds of other sides, but I also really love giggling and accessorizing and playing dress up. I offer the following proofs:

I guess my point here is this: you can be whatever you want to be. You can be whomever you want to be. But never let perceptions about what you should or should not be force you to miss out on being something you would enjoy (especially when those perceptions are silly and carry over from not liking to be teased when you were 8). Don't think you can't be silly and squeal just because someone makes fun of you for it, because secretly -- they love it and wish they felt comfortable enough to squeal. And keep in mind that squealing doesn't have to be your thing - but finding exactly what makes you happy and enjoying it does.

Be Crafty

I have a lot of hobbies. I'm a collector of hobbies really, a hobby connoisseur. I like to draw, paint, sew, crochet, scrapbook, build things and decoupage anything I can get my hands on. My closest friends make fun of me (in that way only the closest of friends can) because I tend to repeat the following phrase very often: "Oh! That's cool, but I could make it better and cheaper."

This is pretty much the motivation behind all my hobbies. I see something, I want it, I make it. If I fail, who cares? Well, I care because I'm a controlling perfectionist when it comes to designing, crafting and creating, but that is for another post. Moving on. The truth is, I really don't know how to do a lot of things when I first set out to do them, but I try not to let that stop me. I was really really bad at crocheting when I first started, but I chalked that up to the fact that in my family, you learn to crochet when you are 11 and I just didn't have the patience. Now I spend hours doing it. I follow my crafting whims and because of that I have created some really cool things. Original tutus, pirate chests, princess ABC books, blankets, capes, personal library kits and more!

And now you are saying, "But Lindsey, I have no crafting ability at all!" I say you are wrong. There is a creative outlet available for everyone. If you can't draw, knit. If you can't knit, paint. If you can't do any of the things I have suggested, go back to the beginning and color with some crayons. The point is to not limit yourself. Don't say "I can't" because it's just not true. Maybe it won't turn out perfect (heaven knows my sewing projects are never even or straight) but it will look beautiful in the end because you made it. Best of all, you will feel accomplished...that is really my favorite part. You can bask in the glow of accomplishment and pat yourself on the back. You can enjoy the excitement of giving away a handmade treasure and watching someone else fall in love with it.

So go! Create! Write a song, draw a picture, do a dance! Whatever it is, just be crafty and have fun doing it!