How “Just Looking” Can Be Dangerous

I am three years into a new career. It’s great! I’m still continuously learning new things about myself, my new profession, and the people I serve. However, three years into a new career is not exactly the ideal time to begin looking at houses (I can’t even find it within myself to switch apartments so I can get a dog, which is something I desperately want, let alone buy a house…). And yet, here I sit, browsing through Zillow with a few specifics in mind for a home.

Now, I’m just looking, but sometimes “just looking” can be dangerous. I have fallen in love with at least three houses I could see as homes. (DANGER!) The last one was a doozie--Gorgeous, spacious, a yard for a someday-dog, appliances included (luxurious!!!). We’d only just met earlier today, and yet… There was something special. I found myself browsing through the photos, picturing my furniture in the living room, picturing my mail scattered on the kitchen counters and my tacky magnets stuck to the fridge. I looked at the square footage, the double garage (no more scraping ice from the windshield!), the deck in the back yard... And then I had to snap myself out of the daydream.

What’s the best way to do that and protect myself from heartbreak? Find a flaw. That’s right, friends. Whenever you’re online shopping (or in-store shopping), the best way to prevent yourself from getting in too deep is to convince yourself that you’ve not fallen head-over-heels. So, in this case, I set to work. I looked at the price history of the property (could have gotten a great deal in 2005, but now this one looks overpriced...and I’m too much of a deal seeker to fall for that). I looked at home buying guides online (to convince myself that the whole process is just too overwhelming to even consider at this point), and I looked at the realtor’s listing. That was the one that indicated the perfect reason for me to fall out of love with this house. It mentioned the words “sump pump.”

I’ve lived in Iowa my whole life. When a listing says “sump pump” that means water in the (lovely, recently refinished) basement. That also means I don’t want to deal with it. But, just to be sure, I Googled how to check if an address is prone to flooding (in case anyone is wondering, it’s FloodSmart.gov). And I had my answer, in all-caps, bright red font: THIS PROPERTY IS HIGH-RISK.

Danger!!!

I may have been spared this time, but I fear this (tempting and risky) process of falling in and out of love with homes on the internet will continue… But at least I’m safe for now.

Confessions of a Real Grump

 Sometimes you just have a bad day. It's true. There are days that start out fine and then something happens and I realize: Nope. This is not what I wanted to be doing today and not how I wanted to feel. (And, yes, I know I am in charge of how I react to things, blah, blah, blah… "Only you can make you feel a certain way" or whatever that quote is…) Sometimes, though, you just need to feel it. Feel grumpy. Feel sad. Feel hurt. Feel mad. Feel whatever it is that is tugging at the back of your thoughts. Because, and I swear I heard this on an Oprah episode (and look at Oprah--she’s definitely got her poop in a group!), if you're feeling a certain way then there's a reason. It is justified. If there wasn't a reason then you wouldn't be feeling however it is that you feel. (Heavily paraphrased, of course.)

So, yes. On the day that I’m writing this I feel tired; I feel stretched too thin; I feel un-heard and under-appreciated; I feel jaded; I feel downright grumpy!

Guess what? That’s okay. The good news is that this feeling doesn’t last forever. Usually a good talking-out session combined with a good sleep helps shed light on the situation and scare away the grumps and negativity. Even the most positive people need a crummy day of reality once in a while to help them remember the good days, right?

(And the even better news, I know that by the time this is posted I'll be coasting along in a grump-free zone after, hopefully, having gotten it out of my system for a while!)

How do you handle a not-so-great day?

Confessions of a Screen Addict

I always swore I would never get a smart phone.

I don't have anything against smart phones. I think they're neat. I like playing Fruit Ninja and Pudding Monsters and Toca Band. I think it's cool that people can answer my emails without actually having to go to their computers. (Side note: the first time one of my professors sent me an email "sent from my iPhone" when I was in college, it blew my mind a little bit. Why on earth was my professor answering me when she was clearly not sitting at her desk during working hours? But I digress.)

My problem with smart phones is actually just my personal problem with being a screen addict. Even with just a laptop I checked facebook and my email more than is strictly necessary for anyone who isn't an extremely narcissistic teenager. And seriously, do you know what I get in my email? About a million different mailers from companies who have my email address because I entered a contest on facebook by signing up for their email list. All of which I delete without reading. And yet.

But then my baby drooled on my faux-Blackberry with no actual features, and I had to get a new one, and honestly, the smart phones were just neat and not that expensive compared to the really terrible flip phones and . . . well, there you have it.

Which is great except that I am a stay-at-home mom, and sometimes my days get a little boring because I spend them with someone who doesn't talk yet, and I need someone to talk to. Plus, I take about a million pictures of her a day, and it seems a shame not to show them to people - message them to my mom, upload them to Instagram and Facebook, make a collage of her eating bananas, etc. (My life. It is one big roller coaster of excitement.)

Which brings us to my screen-free week challenge a few weeks ago. I set very specific rules for myself, and honestly, it started out great. On Sunday, after a nice day of spending time with my family, going to church, cooking a nice dinner and putting the baby to bed, Eric and I played Zombie Fluxx, followed by a round of Scrabble where, because they were on our minds, we got extra points for words that could be linked to zombies.

Can you find "eater," "alone," "meaty," "ax," "goon," and other words that got me extra zombie points?

And on Monday, I cleaned my house while my baby was napping, because I wasn't getting sucked into reading some article someone posted on Facebook while I was "making sure she was asleep." And I cleaned faster because I didn't have Netflix going on the iPad! I did laundry! I did dishes! I mopped the floor! I baked bread! The angels rejoiced! When the baby was awake, we went and played in the grass and enjoyed the beautiful sunshine. All was good in the world.

And then a cold front came in on Tuesday and we were stuck inside for the rest of the week. Of course.

By about Wednesday, it was starting to get a little old. I was sneaking a few extra looks at Facebook while I was nursing the baby. I was looking completely unnecessary things up on Wikipedia. (Yes, this children's book that Eric brought home from the thrift shop because of the illustrations WAS written by James Carville the political strategist! What do you mean I could have just gotten out the CD player and listened to the reading to see if it was him?) I was sick of my Pandora stations. (Okay, people need to stop making recordings of Les Mis. You can't listen to a Broadway-themed station (especially when your tastes in musicals tend the way mine do) without hearing "One Day More" about 14,000 times from every different recording.) I was out of podcasts (which I figured I could listen to when I set the phone aside, because that totally worked). And on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, my husband was gone late because he was filming a conference of green dentists. (Do you know how bad dentistry can be for the environment? Apparently it's really bad.) Thursday I was a good girl and read Watership Down while I waited for him to get home at 10:30. But by Friday I was just lonely, and it was quiet, and the rabbits were talking about something boring with a seagull, and I caved. I watched an episode of The West Wing while I ate dinner. I scrolled through pictures of my baby on my phone. I looked at Facebook without commenting on anything in the hopes that no one would notice I'd been online.

Just writing it out like this, I feel a little like I am confessing that I am a crack addict.

I really enjoyed limiting my screen time for the first few days. I felt liberated. I accomplished more. I was happier. I just haven't figured out how to translate it all into my every day life except to say that apparently I need more to do than clean my house and play with my baby, because once the house is clean, I need some interaction, and it doesn't always feel like I can just run over to a neighbor's house for it.

BUT. When the weather is good, CB and I go outside and sit in the sun where I can't see my smartphone screen. And sometimes a neighbor comes and talks to us, and sometimes we just look at grass and bugs and feel the wind and check the mail and try to keep CB from eating the mail. So maybe that's a start.

Melissa felt inspired by my goal, probably because she hadn't talked to me yet. Here are her thoughts about her experience, which seems remarkably similar to mine.

Melissa: 

Inspired by Meg’s endeavor, I too decided to participate in a Screen Free week. I mostly wanted to do it for the sake of my children. My three year old has an affinity for my iPod and my husband’s Nexus tablet. She can also peruse Netflix with the best of them. I’ll admit, I have used the TV or other screens as a babysitter so that I could shower, clean, cook, or fall into an exhausted stupor. In fact, I’m doing it right now as I write this with my kids beside me, watching Doc McStuffins.

I decided I needed to prepare my family because it was going to come as a huge blow to them, except apparently it really wasn’t. I told my oldest daughter that we were doing a screen free week and she was pretty stoked. Sure, the removal of screens would be hard at first (she thought it was because she was in trouble) but she was looking forward to playing more and reading more and talking more. She became the screen police, watching me every time I’d text message someone ("A phone has a screen, Mom!").

Was our week a success? Yes and no. I failed in that we didn’t make it 24/7 without the aid of a screen. On Friday my husband went out of town for three days and I just HAD to hand over my iPod a few times, or turn on a movie because being a single mom for a weekend was too exhausting (it also made me appreciate actual single mothers). 

This week opened my eyes to how often I actually defer to a screen. I take my kids to the park three or four times a week. We go to the library and Discovery Museum at least once during the week. We also do some sort of play date or something or other at some point. I’m not entirely neglectful, but I find when I’m not schlepping my children off to some adventure, much of our down time takes place in front of a screen.

I also realized that a huge part of life plays out online. It’s great to be nostalgic and long for the days of face to face interaction, but who would I experience that kind of life with if most people are socializing on Facebook?

Meg: I confess that I give technology the power to take over my life more often than I should. I confess that even though this experience was eye-opening for me, I still do. But I also confess that it fills me with so much joy that my baby loves flipping through books and playing outside more than she likes playing with my phone right now, and I'd like to keep it that way, so I'm going to keep fighting my addiction.

Lesson Learned: Rachel Learns to Kill Vampires

Contest entry #7 by Rachel Slough. The contest is now closed, but we're glad we extended it, because more of you responded (including some right at the wire)! (Don't forget that you can alway send us guest posts too - even when there isn't a contest.) Look forward to another week and a half of essays before we vote for a winner! 

I love teaching and get a thrill from the surprises and constant variety, and the energy when students make new connections. While teaching one-on-one has always been fun, teaching a full classroom was absolutely terrifying for a long time. All of those eyes on me, the expectation that I keep a room of people engaged and learning; everyone silently, or not so silently, judging my words and actions. I had nightmares about all the horrible things that could happen in a classroom, yet I couldn’t shake this gut-level feeling that teaching would be worth any of these challenges. I knew that I’d have to get over this fear of teaching full classes, so I forced myself to teach as often and in as many settings as I could throughout high school and undergrad. I asked people I trusted for suggestions, I read books, I had others critique my teaching, I learned yoga and breathing techniques. I even spent a year abroad on a teaching grant, which allowed me 30-40 hours of teaching each week and seminars each month related to education and the art of teaching.

But the terror remained and, no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the rising panic that started every time I began a class and the rushed pace and frantic atmosphere that resulted—exactly the opposite of the safe, comfortable learning environment that I wanted to establish for my students. After all this effort, I still loved teaching, but I was beginning to doubt if I was really doing myself, or anyone else, any good by keeping this up. Maybe it was time to accept, move on, and find something else that I’m better suited to do.Stubborn as I am, I gave myself a mental deadline of just one more semester of effort and kept asking experts for ideas. My graduate supervisor suggested a zen-like approach of just accepting, ok, I get panicky when I teach. That’s just what it feels like. Accept, embrace, go with it. While this helped somewhat, it wasn’t enough to help me slow down or eliminate the panic. I asked another friend, who advised me to Just Kill Those Vampires, explaining that the song “Die Vampire, Die” from Title of Show says it all (warning that there is explicit language).

In other words, identify the demons and thoughts that are keeping me from doing what I need to do, and show them no mercy.

In teaching, it was helpful to be able to name specific vampires: I’m afraid I can’t do this, I’m afraid the students will hate me. Okay, DIE vampires! I can teach; if the students hate me, it doesn’t matter.

Or something like that.

Once the fears had names and identities, eliminating or minimizing them suddenly became easier and made the classroom much more enjoyable. It allowed me to slow my pace, just a little, and to laugh more.

I’m not claiming that this song, or this attitude of trying to identify and kill life’s vampires, has transformed me into a perfect teacher or human being. I still have a looooooong way to go, and, if you were to watch me teach, you’d notice that my pace is still faster than most, and often faster than advisable. I think I may always have a moment of panicked energy right before I teach or face any situation that seems scary for whatever reasons. But being able to notice, name, and kill my vampires has allowed me to find more joy and peace in what I do, both inside and outside the classroom.

Awesomeness

Some interesting points have been raised regarding the challenge Miri posted this morning and, as always, we are waiting to hear more about what you think. In the meantime, however, I wanted to add to what Miri was saying. Here's where I get a little more personal.

I have struggled my entire life with feeling "normal." I never felt like I wasn't pretty enough or like I wasn't smart enough, I just always felt like I wasn't normal enough. I developed earlier than every other girl I knew, I was short, my laugh was loud and I could never seem to be girly enough. I was always more preoccupied with my personality than my looks - even though I never knew what clothes to wear, I didn't really wear make up till I was 21, and I knew I weighed more than all my friends. I was (and still am) surprised when people laughed at my jokes. I was cautious when making new friends, always feeling that I put in a whole lot more than I got out of a friendship. Other girls made me feel inadequate simply because they seemed to know how to act with each other and I knew there was some secret to it all that I wasn't being told.

Fast forward to college. I left high school early and I went to Utah State to start my freshman year. I was 17 and I still had braces. I knew no one and again I struggled to find a place where I felt normal. Luckily, I found that one friend who accepted me completely. It was a miracle, I tell you. Still, I never really questioned my looks. Sure, there were things I didn't love, but I had more pressing things to worry about. Through college, as I began to grow up, my focus changed. I felt more at ease with my surroundings and with my relationships and I began to find more and more things about myself that I could complain about. That was about the same time I met Megan and Miri (and other fabulous people). We all enjoyed each other so much, we talked about it constantly. We were awesome and we were funny and we liked us. We said these things constantly. When I got ready to go out, I would look in the mirror and say "Man! I'm hot!" Sometimes I didn't really think that. Most of the time, I could have stayed in front of the mirror another 20 minutes and found a million things I didn't like, but I didn't let myself do that. I just said it and made myself believe it. I eventually got to where I didn't doubt myself when I said I looked good or when I said I was awesome and, more importantly, I didn't doubt other people when they told me those things. I believed it whole-heartedly and it was amazing.

Fast forward again, post college. I've had a rough time recently, especially the past year. I've dealt with a couple bouts of depression, a few particularly difficult relationships and the loss of a job. I've spent the last 8 months or so feeling like a complete failure. I've been doing what I have to do to get by and pretty much just blocking the rest of it out. For the first time in my life, I have had to deal with a complete loss of self confidence. But the fog is lifting. I am beginning to see what I can do to turn things back around. I realized that I stopped trying to make myself feel better and I stopped listening to the good things my friends and family would tell me. Instead I let myself wallow for far too long. Happily, after I started trying to make myself feel better again, the inspiration for this blog came to me...a way to make what I've gone through a positive experience.

I really hope that you all attempt what Miri has suggested. Try for one month (or even just a week or two!) to think positive thoughts about yourself. I'm looking forward to the challenge and the change I know it can bring. This isn't about being skinny or fat or smart or pretty or any particular thing, it is something every person can benefit from. Even if you look in the mirror and can only see something negative (like "I have a monstrous zit!"), try your best to find that silver lining ("at least I don't have two monstrous zits!") and embrace it!

Are You Strong Enough Challenge

Just so all of you out there know we are serious about this challenge, here's a little reiteration. And don't fret, we will be doing it too and writing about it (I will even be starting this challenge in the midst of an illness that makes me feel oh so very less than lovely).

I hope you're not shaking your head in disbelief right now. I know it's hard to believe that something as simple as your thoughts could actually have an effect on your physical appearance, but I promise you it's true, and you can prove it to yourself. Try, for one entire month, thinking nothing but positive thoughts about yourself. If you start to criticize yourself, stop. Literally stop yourself in the middle of the thought, and replace it with something good about yourself. Make lists of things that are fantastic about you and put them in your journal. Write positive notes on your mirror in dry erase marker. Stand in front of that mirror, look yourself in the eyes, and say "I love you. You're awesome. You have a fantastic personality, and people are lucky to know you." Keep up a constant chant in your head saying, "I love my life. I love myself, and everyone I meet loves me too. I deserve the best in everything I do. I am beautiful and wonderful and charming and lovely, and my life is great." Use whatever words you want, but really honestly do it, and I promise you will see a difference.

Are You Strong Enough to Be Yourself?

At some point in your life, you've probably all had someone tell you, "It's not what you wear; it's how you wear it." And if you're like me, you probably all rolled your eyes and thought, "Dear well-meaning but clueless friend/family member/motivational speaker: If that works for you, great; and if you weren't skinnier/taller/prettier than I am, I might believe that it could possibly apply to me. Nice try though."

Well, guess what: That old cliche is true. What you wear isn't important; you've all seen girls wearing jeans and t-shirts and still looking adorable, right? And you probably thought, "If I was skinnier, I could just wear jeans and a t-shirt and look that cute too." Or something like that. But here's the thing--it's not being a certain size that will make you look good, regardless of whether you're hoping to gain or lose weight. It's how you think of yourself.

Most of our society's problems stem from the fact that people have a skewed perception of themselves. Our culture places a ridiculous amount of significance on how you look, which is totally backward because your appearance is absolutely, positively the single least important thing about you. We use our looks to determine our self-worth, but if we were only able to appreciate ourselves for what we really are, we would become far more attractive. It really isn't what you're wearing that counts--it's how you feel about yourself, and that changes how you look.
I hope you're not shaking your head in disbelief right now. I know it's hard to believe that something as simple as your thoughts could actually have an effect on your physical appearance, but I promise you it's true, and you can prove it to yourself. Try, for one entire month, thinking nothing but positive thoughts about yourself. If you start to criticize yourself, stop. Literally stop yourself in the middle of the thought, and replace it with something good about yourself. Make lists of things that are fantastic about you and put them in your journal. Write positive notes on your mirror in dry erase marker. Stand in front of that mirror, look yourself in the eyes, and say "I love you. You're awesome. You have a fantastic personality, and people are lucky to know you." Keep up a constant chant in your head saying, "I love my life. I love myself, and everyone I meet loves me too. I deserve the best in everything I do. I am beautiful and wonderful and charming and lovely, and my life is great." Use whatever words you want, but really honestly do it, and I promise you will see a difference.

You shouldn't want to be a Barbie just because that's what society decided you should be. Who cares what society thinks anyway? Pardon my reversion to third grade, but "society" is retarded. You should care what you think. You should want to be healthy, which is not the same as being skinny (in case you weren't aware). If you focus on being healthy instead of being a certain size, if you can just be happy with being YOU, then you'll be drop-dead gorgeous no matter what that darn scale says. It takes strength to stop caring what other people think, but I know you can do it. Throw the scale out the window, I say--just try not to brain any innocent bystanders in your enthusiasm.

It's Easier to Criticize Somebody Else Than to See Yourself

George Harrison, kids. Check it out.
I think it's pretty safe to say that all women hate something about themselves, and that it's usually something irrational. For example: I hate the right side of my face. I don't know what it is, but my nose looks different on that side, and I hate all pictures taken from that angle. My mom gets furious with me when I complain about my nose, because she thinks I have an adorable nose, and that hers is ugly. I, of course, think that she is crazy (on both accounts).
So we all have a thing, or possibly several. But are we seeing ourselves honestly? Have we ever actually seen ourselves, the way other people see us? My guess is, probably not.
I've gained about thirty-five pounds in the six years since high school. There are a lot of things that I hate about my body the way it is now--my stomach in particular, and not being able to fit into the jeans I want. But you know what? There are things I like better about myself now, too: like my face. It's rounder than it was back then, and I think it looks better that way. I think I'm much prettier now than I was in high school, and who knows--maybe that's why I have a hard time losing weight. I don't want my face to go back to the way it was. When I see pictures, I look too skinny to myself.
(For the record, I thought I was fat all through high school. I was technically underweight for my height, but I was squishy and had love handles and a sister who was a size two, and I hated my body like crazy. Being thinner doesn't solve self image problems. You know why? Because your self image shouldn't be based on your physical appearance. But that's a topic for a different post. :) ).

So do something different for a change, and try to see yourself objectively. Look at yourself in the mirror and try to see what others see. Find little things that you like about your appearance, and they'll start to add up--even if it takes a while. Learn to see yourself as you really are, without all the criticism, and what you will find is that you're beautiful. Guaranteed.