Your Best Foot Forward

I just ran across this article and found it fascinating. (Go ahead and take a look at it.) It is a useful glimpse of what people with some mental illnesses go through, and as such it is a help in understanding them and perhaps empathizing a bit more with their struggles.

I don't want to minimize the very real struggles of mental illness. Mental illness is hard, and perhaps doubly hard when you are able to put a brave face on and make people think you're okay. Your already invisible illness becomes more invisible and you probably feel even more alone with your struggles.

But on another level I think we could all take side-by-side photos of who we really are versus who we want the world to see. We post a picture of our darling little child in the pumpkin patch, but only moments before we were yelling at him in frustration. We tell about our promotion at work but not about the way we just snapped at our husband. We take a picture of the homemade bread, applesauce, and soup we cooked for our family tonight but not the chicken nuggets from the freezer bag we served them the night before.

One of the complaints against social media is that you are comparing someone else's "best foot forward" with your own secret worst moments. You can feel like the world's worst mom when you compare your kids' Halloween costumes with the hand-stitched ones someone else made. To make yourself feel better you put your own best moments on display, but then you feel like a bit of a hypocrite because you know there were some not-so-good moments immediately before and after whatever you posted.

Last spring women posted no-makeup selfies, I think related to breast cancer awareness or something. Maybe that's a start. But more than that, I want my public persona to be completely genuine. I want to be the same person at home that I am at church and driving the kids to school and standing behind the slow person at the grocery store and stuck in traffic.

If I'm having a bad day, I want to be the kind of person who answers honestly when someone asks me how my day is but doesn't take out my grumpy mood on whichever child is not cooperating with my plans . . . or whichever one is closest. I want to be the same amount of patient and kind with my husband and children that I am with the people I work with. I want to be totally willing to open my home to my children's friends because I know that who we are behind closed doors is the same as who we are when we're outside.

So I guess my challenge to myself is to make my home-alone portrait match my best-foot-forward portrait, and vice versa. No surprises, no gimmicks, just unapologetically me. Sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes friendly, often shy, always thankful for the life I have and living it the best I know how.

And so this week I'm going to be more mindful of being the same person at home and when I'm away. I'm going to not overthink what I say to people who ask me about my day or what I post on facebook, but just be genuine. And I'm going to post about real life, not just the smiles and successes.

How about you? Do you feel like you have a secret dual life?

Mondays with Martha: Favorite Spaces

When your kitchen looks like this...

It's important to focus on the positives about your home. So for this week's homemakery post I'd like to focus on favorite spaces. What is your favorite place in your home? Maybe you have to think for a minute to determine what it is. Or maybe you know what your favorite place is but you have neglected it for a bit and it is currently too cluttered or dirty to rank as your favorite place. Or maybe you're in your favorite space this very minute.

Here is mine.


I love it because we haven't had a fireplace in many years, and we're fire-in-the-fireplace people. I also love it because I envision many happy moments of family togetherness here. It is absolutely the perfect place to read Little House in the Big Woods to my little people. And also apparently the ideal spot for an animal hospital. This is the third or fourth iteration of the mantel, and the best so far, but I'd welcome decorating suggestions if you're so inclined.

What about you? I'd love to hear about--or better yet get a picture of--your favorite place in your home. Leave a comment or send me a picture and I'll share it here tomorrow!

I'm Back!

I guess I have a love-hate relationship with this blog, or maybe with blogs in general. Sometimes I get fatigued by the idea of more words going out into cyberspace. Sometimes it feels like too much introspection, too many word selfies. Blogs are quickly written, quickly forgotten. Every now and then a post well-deservedly goes viral and when I read it I am partly grateful for its wisdom or cleverness and partly jealous of its writer's talent. In so many ways I feel inadequate to reenter the blogosphere.

But lately I've been feeling the urge to write, even if no one reads it. Maybe it's that I haven't had much editing work this fall (bummer), or maybe it's that our kitchen project is making house cleaning feel futile, or maybe it's that I should be writing more to prepare myself for whatever is next in life. At any rate, here I am again, for better or for worse. Did you miss me?

In the past year we have somewhat unexpectedly moved, sold a house, changed schools for all the kids, started high school, and begun a massive kitchen renovation wherein the walls were taken down to the studs. Life has been busy. There is probably a lot to write about. Stay tuned!

In the meantime, because every good blog post has a picture, here is one of us saying goodbye to our beloved house. Many happy memories were made there, and many happy memories have already been made in our new home. We are thankful.

(I don't know why we didn't compose the picture better, but it is what we were able to get before the camera ran out of batteries . . . which is on so many levels a fair representation of our hectic life this summer.)

A Poem for My Publishing Friends

Editor Emma and Publisher Paige        

By Alison Taylor, 2013

Editor Emma and Publisher Paige

Worked very hard for a very small wage.

Day after day, hour after hour,

They worked on the books, gave the sentences power.

Editor Emma told Publisher Paige

“We can’t work this hard for this small a wage.”

But Publisher Paige just told Editor Emma,

“I really don’t care, it’s a tiny dilemma.”

Then Editor Emma got really upset.

“You can work this hard, but this you’ll regret!”

But Publisher Paige just shrugged and said, “Fine.

I need this job, it’s my place to shine.”

Editor Emma just stormed out the door,

Leaving footprints all over Paige’s office floor.

But Publisher Paige didn’t stay for a minute,

She kept doing her work for a time infinite.

So in the end, Miss Paige had a job.

But Picky old Emma could only sob.

Homeless and moneyless (she didn’t get paid),

She was regretful instead of Paige.

Enough with the Mommy Guilt

I've been reminded lately that I need to chill out a little bit. It's easy for me to jump to conclusions (somehow they are always bad ones) and assume the worst about a situation. The problem is that in parenting this leads to unnecessary mommy guilt. I walk around with a huge burden, feeling like I'm failing my children. But they didn't put that burden there, I did. I offer you two exhibits as evidence:

Exhibit A:

These notes

greeted me on my dresser one night when I came home from an activity. The kids were already in bed at this point, and my husband told me that around this child's bed were increasingly adamant notes about the tooth fairy needing to make an appearance. "TOOTH HERE!" "TOOTH UNDER PILLOW!" "Tooth fairy, PLEASE COME!" Somehow the tooth fairy has a very hard time making it to our house. Actually, the pizza man does too, because GPS's misdirect them, so maybe the tooth fairy has the same GPS. Whatever the reason, it often takes several weeks for the tooth fairy to pay up. Yes, I feel guilty about this, and I vow to do better, but somehow it's hard for me to remember.

So of course when I saw this note I jumped to the conclusion that this child had lost a tooth weeks previously and had been waiting for us to notice, all the while becoming emotionally scarred because we failed to see the gap in her smile. I was imagining that every night at dinner she'd sit silently hoping that maybe someone would take note of this significant event in her life, and no one ever did. I was absolutely riddled with guilt. I was ready to give this child $20 for her tooth (our usual rate is $1, or $2 if we are really slow at paying, or $3 for a pulled tooth). My husband urged me not to try to buy her off, so we gave her $2, but I still felt terrible. We typed up a very lengthy note from the tooth fairy explaining that she had noticed the lost tooth, and I think we said she had been short of cash.

Now three weeks before this event, this same child had lost a tooth, and not having any dollar bills I had paid in quarters with a little note of explanation. Apparently I had disguised my handwriting well, because I heard the girls discussing the note and agreeing that it wasn't from me.
 
So on this night, just before I put the $2 and the typed note under the child's pillow, I wondered aloud, "you don't think this is the same tooth that I already paid for in quarters, do you? This child isn't trying to get paid twice for the same tooth, is she? Surely not."

Well, as you can probably guess, it was in fact the same tooth. The child in question had thought that the quarters were put under her pillow by an older sister, and were in fact her own quarters from her piggy bank, so she had tried again. My extreme mommy guilt was uncalled for.


Exhibit B:

Do you see this picture of our family, drawn by my first-grade son? All of us are lined up in age order, and then Dad is above us in a hot air balloon. The psychologists among you are probably thinking what I thought: Why is Dad in a hot air balloon? Does this child think he is absent? Above the rest of us? (probably that one is true). And why does the hot air balloon look like a prison? Does the child think he is imprisoned by work? Surely this picture means something profound.

I had learned my lesson from the tooth fairy extortion of 2013. I would not jump to conclusions, I would ask the child. So I asked him why Dad was in a hot air balloon. My son smiled and said, "I ran out of room." Ah, crisis averted. And putting him in a hot air balloon was actually a pretty clever way for it to make sense that he wasn't standing with the rest of us.


I laughed about both of these events, but they made me think. I wish I could stop over-analyzing every situation and assuming the worst. I wonder how many times I have imposed thoughts and feelings on my children that were not even there. I wonder how many times my mommy guilt has been a good thing that leads me to be a better mom, and how many times it has led to unnecessary worry, stress, and anxiety. My guess is that it has only been justified and useful about twenty percent of the time.

I wonder why I always blame myself for every struggle my children have. If they react badly to something or are overwhelmed, it's my fault for not preparing them for it. If they are struggling with a friend, I wasn't the first person they came to for help because I'm a bad mom. If they are struggling in school, it's my DNA that makes that skill hard for them. If they seem down or discouraged, it's my fault for not helping them be happy.

I've had enough. I am ready to own the twenty percent of the mommy guilt that is mine and do something about it, and ignore the other eighty percent. I don't know exactly how to do that, but I hope remembering these two incidents will help. Maybe a good first step is asking my kids what they think of me, like the kids in this video. My guess is that they think I'm doing a better job of this whole mom thing than I think I'm doing. And probably they don't blame me for most of their struggles because they are too busy blaming themselves. Hmmm. Maybe getting rid of unnecessary guilt would help all of us!

A Good Enough Runner

I've been a little absent here for the past six months or so. The reasons for that abound but I can't quite put it all into words, at least not on paper. Something about finding my focus, or perhaps losing it. Anyway, here we are with a fresh page.

One thing I did this summer was run. I started with a just-over-30 minute 5K in June, ran a just-under-30 minute 5K in July, and finished with a half marathon in November. I still don't feel like a runner, but with three races in just a few months and a mapmyrun statistic of over 400 miles run, maybe I am a runner after all. Here's what I learned this year (for what I learned last year, see here).

1) Training takes time. I was underprepared for the half marathon, and after this experience I am quite sure I do not have time to train for a marathon.

2) But then, I don't think I ever want to run a marathon. Maybe I could do it...maybe...but 13.1 miles is farther than it sounds. I have a new respect for marathoners, especially those with young children.

3) That said, anyone with a reasonable degree of health can run a half marathon. If I can do it, anyone can. It can even be done with less than the recommended training. I got an injury during the last six weeks of training and really fell off the schedule (plus, it was cold and dark in October!). And during the race my knee quit at mile 12 and I absolutely could not run after that point. An ignominious ending, but at least I hobbled my way to the finish line and got my medal. And I finished before 700 other people who ran the same race!

4) Race day really is fun. The excitement, the camaraderie with other runners, the cheering crowds even for those who limp across the finish line like I did are all very inspiring. You should try it!

5) The other great thing about races is that you are motivated to do your best. I was averaging under 10-minute miles for the first five miles, which is faster than I usually can do for five miles in a row. When everyone else is running, you don't stop to walk. If I ever run a half marathon again, I hope that I can complete the full training (no silly injuries) and run it closer or even under 2:15.

6) Two days after my race the soreness has worn off, the disappointment over limping the last mile when everyone else was running to the finish has faded, and I think to myself, I ran a half marathon. That was something. Yes, almost anyone can do it, but not everyone does. 

  

Here I am at the finish line, grimacing in pain. By the time we got home I almost could not walk.

Hiking Trips and Letting Go

When you tell people that your husband is leaving you alone with five kids to go on a hiking trip...or biking...or what have you, you get a variety of responses. Some people (men mostly) enviously ask, "How long is he gone?" or "Where did he go? That sounds great!" Some people (mothers of young children mostly) ask, "How long is he gone? Do you need anything? When is your turn?" Some people simply ask "Why?" They wonder how he can justify it, how you can support it, or maybe secretly IF you support it. They wonder if it's Biblically defensible to do such a thing, or a little selfish.

I've written about my husband's first camping trip, and how it led to an identity crisis for me. I'm not there anymore. Now I totally "get it" that he needs time away. Maybe it's because now I take yearly jewelry-making trips myself. Maybe it's because he comes back so refreshed. Maybe it's because the kids are a little older now, and the whole thing is a lot less daunting. Maybe it's because his several international trips of two weeks have made these 5-7 day trips seem like nothing. (Well, almost nothing...the night I was trying to finish up teacher gifts and teacher cards on the heels of celebrating a child's birthday was a little stressful.) Maybe it's understanding more of God's grace to me and being able to extend it to him in response.

All the same, for those who wonder, here is why I think these camping trips are a good idea, even Biblically defensible:

1) God made us to need rest. That's what the Sabbath is all about--a gift from Him for our tired bodies and tired souls. And in this day and age it isn't always easy to rest. So sometimes you need to get away so far that you can't be reached by cellphone or email or nervous-nelly wives.

2) The change of routine is good for all of us, even those who are left behind. It's good for the kids to have a few days of realizing mom can handle things on her own, and to learn to pitch in a little more than usual. It's nice to be reunited after a time apart--it makes us all appreciate each other a little more. I've even found I can be more productive on some of these long weekends of single parenting when there is no compelling reason to make a fancy dinner or clean the house.

3) It's good to enjoy God's creation, and though you can kind of do that in Illinois, I think you can do it better in the mountains, or by a lake, or somewhere equally beautiful. Seeing new parts of the world lends a certain perspective on our faith. It helps us remember that God is bigger than our little family, or our little corner. It's impossible to see a beautiful vista and not be driven to worship if you're a believer.

4) It stretches us. I don't know if my husband was stretched on this trip, but I know I was stretched by him going. Hiking snow-covered mountains in June that are supposed to be attempted in August when the snow has melted, well, I didn't like that part. I wasn't real thrilled to hear they needed helmets and ice axes. Add to that three very optimistic men, and it could have ended badly. I let my husband go knowing that there was a chance he wouldn't return, but knowing that if he didn't, it was okay. God was still in control. My husband wasn't taking an unreasonable risk, and I knew he could just as easily die on the ride to work tomorrow morning as on top of a mountain. I'm happy to report that he is returning safe and sound. And I'm also happy to report that I let him go and I didn't fall apart. My faith grew a little this week.

What do you think? Are there other good reasons for a week away from wife and children that I haven't thought of?