sunshine in my pocket

i just finished a 20 hour training weekend for work. and besides time consuming, intense, and full of lukewarm hotel coffee and awkward connections with strangers you're spending three full days with, it was also (and mostly) AWESOME.

here's the thing: i am a nerd at heart. like, total dork. like, come home and make my own manual and short cuts for the manual i just got, dork. geeking out over color coded post-it tabs and making handouts, dork. talking non-stop to strangers and loved ones alike about every single thing i learned, dork. i am a nerd at heart for sure. especially for something i think is awesome and useful and cutting edge and makes me more competent and all that jazz.

and this was all that, plus a bag of chips! but this post is not really about that....

in the training, we learned about installing what they call 'a calm/safe place' with your client. not an original therapy concept, at all, but we spent some time talking about how to do it and then actually doing it in practicum hours. the gist of it (if you couldn't guess by the title), is to create a calm and safe place in your mind- somewhere you have been or can visualize, and bring it alive with all your senses and make it real.

and because i got to be clinician and client this weekend, i had to create my own calm and safe place. for the sake of the exercise, i just went with my gut idea- the beach in hawaii- and used that. but because i am such a cognitive realist (ie cynic at heart),  the exercise made me think all weekend long of what my REAL calm, safe places, in my everyday life would and could be. places or instances where i can just be me, no strings attached, no pressure, no shame or vulnerability, nothing. just me.

yesterday as i was driving to my office on the highway, after dropping the boys off, i was listening to the radio and a FANTASTIC song came on. you know, the kind where you feel like it just dials straight into your soul and hits every mood your feeling and it's so catchy you can't help but car dance the s#!t out of it and you're singing at the top of your lungs even when you don't know the words and you just don't care who is watching? yeah, that song.

so it came on- and the traffic was light- and i was on time- and i was going to work after being all jazzed and excited about my job over the weekend- and the sun was shining- and my boys were safe- and my husband was at work- and all was just right with the world, for that moment.

and it dawned on me: THIS is a real happy, calm, safe place.

yes, the hawaiian beach is AHHHHH-mazing, and i would go there every day all day if life allowed- who wouldn't? but in real life, i want a place or an experience that i can re-create and LIVE, not just in my head but with my heart and soul and body. this is a place i can recreate almost any day of the week with little effort, money or notice. it doesn't always have to be upbeat- sometimes crying my heart out is just what i need, or being sad and morose is what my soul feels- but i can get in my car by myself, drive a little down the road to the open highway, and blast that song as high as my speakers can go and just lose myself there.

can you feel it? can you hear it? can you do it?

while i believe creating a visualized safe, calm place is amazing and useful, especially in therapy, i think it's so important we have something we can create in vivo, in real life, that we can actually experience here and there. the beach is great, really, but it's just not close to my home. like, at all. i can't just go there and get that actual feeling. and while my memory of it is good, and i even have pictures, i sometimes need to have an actual experience of being refreshed, rejuvenated, and set FREE.

do you have a safe, happy place in your real life? i dare you to find one. you'll love it.

(and maybe your loved ones will too, because i came home and played my happy song for husband and did an AMAZING, all-out super dance for him while i sang out loud. i mean, he basically was treated to a live, justin timberlake music video, that lucky guy. i am sure that was his happy place.)

(or maybe not).

*for those of you that think a fun song would be up your alley, my suggestions are as follows, in my favorite order: 

(PS: NO NO NO judging my musical taste here, people. these are upbeat, feel good songs, not necessarily mature and artistic. give me a break, i'm a mom now. i don't have time to branch out).

Justin Timberlake, Can't Stop the Feeling

Taylor Swift, Shake it Off

Jason Derulo, Want to Want Me and Get Ugly

New Politics, Harlem 

free fallin'

my car is my solace. i don't get a lot of time to sit still and be quiet, and i don't really make time in my normal life to "feel my feelings" as they say, but for whatever reason, when i'm in my car, it all catches up with me. i'm notorious (to myself) for crying almost exclusively on my way too and from work. yesterday as i was driving, (actually trying to brainstorm blog posts ideas), i heard a song on the radio- one i'd heard a hundred times, at least (christian stations are so repetitive), but this time the lyrics sort of stuck in my head.

"your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place."

i sang it a few times and felt a familiar tug at my heartstrings, but tucked it away for later i wasn't ready to cry or let myself feel right then.

on the way home, of course, i heard the same song (i told you, REPETITIVE), and the lyrics went through my head. and i thought a little more about what's going on in the my landscape of my life:

my mom's cancer hasn't magically been healed (although her counts are so freakin' LOW it is a miracle- praise jesus!), my husband's condition hasn't gone away and still affects us every single day (but also, so much less! praise jesus on the double!) and my kids are struggling to find a day without any neon green fluids dripping out of their noses or pink eyes or itchy eczema patches taking over their poor little bodies. and me? i am still tired. and trying to just put the pieces together each day to make it to the next.

sometimes, it feels like things are falling apart.

the assumption i had of my life at this point was that i'd feel a little more polished, a little more routine, a little more... predictable and comfortable. and i've had moments- seasons, even- of feeling this way: that i was almost there, if just this one thing would happen or that thing would just resolve itself. i was a working mom, falling into a pattern and routine, getting the hang of this life of mothering and wife-ing. and then, as always, life happened. people get sick. nanny's suck. work changes. the world turns. you know the drill...

and now i actually spend the majority of my days now making breakfast (every meal is almost an hour of making, eating, cleaning), getting everyone dressed, finding snacks, finding and putting my toddlers pants back on, making/packing/feeding/cleaning lunch (my biggest struggle is coming up with some 'creative' idea that isn't corn dogs), finding more pants,  finding more snacks, telling my toddler to put pants on RIGHT NOW BECAUSE WE DO NOT LIVE IN THE STREETS AND THE NEIGHBORS DO NOT NEED TO SEE YOUR NAKED BUM EVERY DAY, kicking my legs free of starving children before dinner, then making dinner, then feeding aforementioned dinner to children that don't want to eat. because they are, of course, full.

basically, i think my life is now consumed with starving children and their pants. it's not glamorous. 

and sometimes, it's not even fun. i can't  always seem to find the joy in my baby pinching my skin between his tiny, lobster-like fingers, or the silliness in my toddler kneeing me in the face as he is climbing up and over my head with his gollum-like little limbs.

sometimes, all the little things that are mundane and repetitive (i haven't even mentioned the laundry mountains), plus all the big things, like sickness and parenting decisions and health all just feel like... SO MUCH.

and then i begin to wonder... what is the point to all of this?

"your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place"....

this is the place.
this is my world, and i'm falling into it.
and that's the actual point.  i'm learning how to appreciate and love these new little things. the day to days, the big things and the little things. the little things like kids being silly and naked and yelly, and the big things like helping clients heal their pain. my little things actually are big things: i'm raising men, people! i'm shaping and loving them into people that will grow up and create the world we live in. and my big things are actually all sort of small things: cancer, family sickness, bills, etc, can all be broken down into small, every day tasks. i can't heal my mom or my husband, but i can love them and serve them and make them meals and hold their hands one day at a time.

so when things fall apart, i want to lean into it and remember that this is life actually falling into place. falling apart gives me the chance to love with grace and mercy despite my circumstances, and that's what God has called us to do- be like him by loving graciously and fiercely.

this is what it looks like to fall apart, right into place:

kansas and beyond.

i so desperately want to write something. 

something poignant and meaningful and something that will just make both me and you stop and think and say, "ohhhhh, that's what it's all about!" or something equally weighty and life changing. i mean, that's not too much to ask for a simple blog post, right? 

reality is, i got nothing. 

i'm so tired today. and every day right now, really, if we're honest. not that you aren't- i think we are all chronically tired and over-committed but that's a post for the other day. 

i am tired but i want to write. writing is my way of figuring out my brain, of taking a step back and digesting it all and making sense of how i feel. a self-check that allows me to step outside of my current situation and reflect and put the pieces together. it's usually so refreshing and healing for me to write. i haven't done that in a long time and i so want to! but right now, i've got nothing in the ways of meaning and insight. i'm just plodding along, each day, trying to get through the hard stuff and enjoy the small stuff. 

have you ever felt like this? like, you take a step back and realize that you're in the middle of a bunch of groundhog days, doing the same thing over and over? it's sort of discouraging or demotivating to realize that. but do you know what? 

i think it's totally normal. 

i see people in my job, each day, that sit on my couch and tell me how bored they are with day to day stuff. i work with people that want to add pizzazz, sparkle, life into their lives. and sometimes, they could really afford to jazz it up a little (if we're honest), but most of the time, (if we're still being honest), they are just experiencing life. and i always tell them the same, discouraging but (i believe) realistic thing: life is sort of like kansas- it's mostly the same thing but with small pops of joy here and there. that instead of waiting and longing for the pops of joy, you must settle in and embrace the flatland that is life, and enjoy the pops when they come.

and while that may sound depressing on one hand, i feel like it's sort of comforting in the other. to know that this monotony is part of life; to know that things, no matter how wildly they may swing from one extreme to the other, will most likely find homeostasis in the neutral, boring, flat land of kansas. to know that life's crazy will eventually flatten out to something comforting, familiar, predictable allows me to enjoy the crazy moments a little more. it allows me to have patience in the extreme times. it allows me to be more present in the silly, fun, precious moments that pop up anytime because i know that they won't always be there. and it allows me to know that, this too shall pass..

today, our sweet little 7 year old neighbor boy brought us over some cookies that his family made us just because. just because they know we are in tough times. they can't make the times easier, they can't fix or take away. but they can love us in the midst of the crazy swings and pray alongside us and love on us until we flatten back out to kansas-territory. and that's pretty cool.  

so, while we continue to encounter unpredictable peaks and valleys that, some days, feel like just too much, i am going to continue to find the joy in the sweet things that get us through to the boring, flat places. 

which basically means i'm eating cookies and wine for dinner. 

in case you were wondering.  

8 ways to win at (my) life!

So there's this sweet little blog I read that is full of inspiration, wisdom, great hair, and just the cutest little dang kids I can't stand it. 

Go there. 

Read it. 

Be inspired. 

Realize that life is beautiful! And that you also want an adorably squishy baby named Avery of your own. 
Then come back here- don't worry, I'll wait! 

Back? Great (thanks for coming back!). Hopefully you read one of her last entries that was full of tips on how to keep a hectic life from running amok (which, in case you're wondering, I stared to do all of them, so my life is super peaceful and manageable).

[insert laugh track here] 

Reading her post made me wonder what my own tips on running a life would be. As I started to pay attention to my days, I realized that I do actually have some things I've worked on in my own life to keep me happy and balanced. Naturally I thought I'd take a risk and share them here- but with the fair warning: I'm not an expert human, so take all of these with a grain of salt. I know what works for me may very well just be a fluke and not work for you at all. Here we go...

Kaci's Very Own Tips For Being A Functioning Human!

 (in no particular order) 

1. Get up early. Yep I said it (and copied Meg's tip). It's true though! So many people say they can't, but really I think it's mostly we won't. My early mornings took a while to get used to but they are normal now. I can get ready for work without chasing children, or read my Bible or even work out (not really)! If you're going to start one good habit his year, I believe this one is worth the most while. 

how can you not want to wake up to this lazy face?!

2. Compost: we started composting a few months ago. Granted we do it through the city system, so we don't get the fruits of our labor (I don't garden anyway, ol' black thumb here), but it really makes me feel good to know I'm doing some good part in this carbon footprint mess. Also, though, compost your own emotional stuff. Composting is taking organic material and turning it back into usable, earthy stuff right? So compost your emotional and physical "stuff": acknowledge it, process it, and turn it back around to use it for good. Turn it over a few times. Journal (or blog!), exercise, give the leftover love people give to you, to other people. All this feel good, pay it forward stuff pays off, I promise! (and you can trust me, I'm a therapist). 

 'composting' his own sock

3. Find a routine, but be flexible. Let's face it: we humans are creatures of habits. So, much like tip #1, make a new habit! Get a routine down that has room for wiggles. I think that finding a loose routine allows for some predictably, structure and comfort in what is already a busy and chaotic life. We all have to-do lists 543 miles long, and if you set out each day to check all that off and fit everything in, you're just going to be disappointed. For me, I set up a routine where I know what time I have to focus on my to-do's, like laundry, children, meals, working out. When that time is up, I move on and know tomorrow will hold more space for that. Mine looks like this: each day at home I get up, do coffee and baby bottle, breakfast, then head down to work out. After that is baby nap, pack up for the day, get dressed and head out somewhere fun! Then lunch, naps, and open afternoon. It seems maybe a little predictable but it's so nice to know what's coming and where I can fit things in. 

3b. Flexibility is key though! Some days the kids don't nap or I'd rather die than see Suzanne Bowen do BarreAmped Fire yet again, so we just adjust and do something else. Go with the flow, as they say. But knowing I have a loose routine each helps me feel like all is not lost on flexible days, and I can be so much more relaxed as the flow changes shape. 

this day was born out of flexibility. the joy we got here would have been missed if i didn't go with the flow

4. Feed yourself, both spiritually and physically. Plainly put, eating food makes you less grumpy. I try to get around eating sometimes by being so busy or forgetting or trying to lose weight or being tired of food, but if I'm honest, I'm just such a jerkface when I do that. Also, I'm so TIRED! Like, drag yourself around, lay on the floor and let-your-kids-color-on-you-tired. Food is fuel. Fuel up, people! 

And while we are at it, fuel up your spirit too- doing day in and out hectic stuff will leave you lonely, bored and ready to jump ship for the next exciting place (like I heard there may be cake by ocean someplace, can I go there?!). Find a way to feed your spirit with truth and meaning or purpose. For me, it's Jesus and the Bible. Spending time ingesting this brand of fuel leaves me emotionally recharged, energized, and resets my perspective on life. Ahhhh. But whatever it is for you, find your spirit animal and get your groove on! 

5. Workout! I know what you're thinking, "I don't have time to work out! I am fine with my body! It's too hard! I'd rather eat my own toenails than get my heart rate up! Please, anything else?" But really guys, our bodies are meant to MOVE. Moving our bodies helps do the stuff everyone says like re-energize, boost metabolism, create a better mental mood, etc. But moving your body also greases up those ol' joints and allows you to practice flexibility, both physically and emotionally. If you switch the focus of your workout to life improvement vs real crazy, unrealistic outcomes, you learn how to enjoy yourself and be flexible. Trust me, I know this. My workouts used to be 1-2 hours in a gym, every day, lifting and cardio, no break. Now I feel lucky for the 25-30 minutes I get in my basement each day, just to be concentrating on a cheap dvd and 10 pound weights. Times have changed, and so has my body (bu-bye flat abs!) but man, I sure am learning how to embrace flexibility and enjoy the time rather than the outcomes.

typical mom workout. far cry from 24hr fitness...

6. Adopt an authentic heart of servanthood and grace. Life isn't fair. Especially if you're a mom and/or wife. Your workload will always, always seem bigger and better than your spouses or your kids or your friends. So get over it (the sooner the better) and the less resentment you will have. Start serving others for the joy of serving. Learn that everyone is fighting their own battles and you can choose to show up graciously or like an old ogre. You may not be able to control your workload or your lot in life, but you can control how you show up. YOU are the only thing you can control. 

7. Relax. Don't do it. Learn to say no. It's just not that big of a deal. This applies to cleaning, stretching yourself too thin, being everything to everyone else and losing your sanity. Even folding laundry when you want to watch a show- all those times! No is a complete sentence. Commit it to memory. 

8. Live in the moment, and notice the small things. This, my friend, includes messiness. Life is messy. It's fun. It's more fun the messier it is, I'm learning. If you can't learn how to be present to your moments, I promise you, you will miss the joy of life. If you spend your time waiting for it to be good all the time, you'll be always waiting. My favorite example of this is kids: they make a mess. They move on. They enjoy. They don't stop to clean up the spilled cheerios or the tipped over milk bottle- they are too busy pushing monster trucks around or turning dishtowels and blankets into forts. That, my friend, is living in the moment. 

what is easy to see is the big mess on the floor and counter. what is harder to see is the joy:  v eating cheerios from the floor with his mouth, and k baking in his inside out undies. these are my kind of favorite small moments. 

Ok there you have it. I've blogged your ears off (your eyes off? I mean, how do you say that?)

I can only hope that one of this ideas hit close to home for you or was something you just needed to hear today. But even if not, it was still a  good compost session for me. ;)

                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Behind Closed Doors

i know it's like, totally spring-fever time, but for whatever reason we are going to talk about fall and scary movies today. so just go with it. 

each time halloween rolls around, it puts husband and I in a super festive, fall mood. i get very lovey and nostalgic about yellow school buses, falling leaves and carving orange pumpkins (note the absence of pumpkin spice latte excitement- i do not like those drinks). i love the memories i have around back to school, Halloween parties, the weather turning crisp and cool. husband, on the other hand, (oblivious to all this nostalgic fall crap), gets super stoked about Halloween, scary things and... scary movies. specifically because this is the ONE time a year i, (the super scaredy weenie cat that I am), will maybe watch a scary movie with him.

and let's be honest here: my level of fear about scary movies and, basically nothing, is ridiculous. REE. DICK. U. LOUS. But SO REAL! every single time (even in the free zone of october) husband asked to watch a scary movie, I threaten him with endless loads of laundry. like this:

me: "what do you want to watch tonight honey? i'm in the mood for something light and funny or complicated and artistic!" [i never say that actually but let's pretend i do].

husband: "how about a scary movie?" 

me: (entering into irrational freak out/high pitched voice mode just considering what he is suggesting): "what is wrong with you? no scary movies! i hate scary movies! you know this! no way! you're ridiculous."  (pause) "fine. fine. fine! i'll watch a scary movie with you. but you'll have to laundry for at least the rest of the month because the laundry room is in the basement and i'm never going down there again after a scary movie. you'll actually have to do everything in the basement for the rest of our lives. so what movie do you want to watch?"

anyway. that whole tangent to tell you that i, by nature, am a super scaredy cat and i hate scary things- and scary things to me are the unknown. anything i don't know, like monsters in the dark or sharks in the murky water or a pregnancy actually being twins... those are all unknown, uncharted territories that scare the bejesus out of me 

so imagine my utter excitement and pleasure when my husband discovered he's developed this basically medically-unknown, long-lasting, chronic-pain diagnosis with his skin. a diagnosis ("topical steroid addiction/withdrawal, or red skin syndrome for those who care) that the medical community basically poo-poos and treats with the medication that perpetuates it. a condition so debilitating that most days, given his choice, husband will sit in our bed, wrapped tightly in a few sheets and slathered in burn gel and every known numbing medication/lotion/potion/cream known to man, hyped on vicodin and whiskey to dull the pain, for hours, just to make the day bearable. 

yeah, you guessed it. i'm stoked for this! YAY! unknown! 

the reality is, we are both scared to death. scared of how he will physically endure this trial of constant pain and misery (prognosis is 6-24 months!). scared of how it will affect our children, and our day to day lives. scared of how to keep a household of four people going with one pivotal person missing. scared of how he shows up to work each day when e'd rather curl up in a ball and cry. and mostly, scared- so, so, scared- of what happens to our intimate, loving marriage when the bulk of our life's business falls on one person and the other is basically trying to survive. 

when it's bad (at least once a day), husband is in bed, behind our closed bedroom door. i'm in the living room, kitchen, baby room or bathroom (aside: potty training sucks!), fending off the kids need for daddy time. each time the kids ask for him or i go to the bathroom or baby room, i see our closed door and am flooded with the feelings of sympathy, loneliness, sorrow, fear, and overwhelm.

and if we are honest, (and i always strive to be), intimacy and vulnerability is not borne out of loneliness, sorrow, and fear. it's not fostered and nurtured in resentment, rejection, distant communication and constant balancing of fairness. and that is precisely what grows between us in seasons like this.

and while i am no brene brown, i do know that every successful marriage is built on some form of vulnerability, intimacy, and communication. 

which then, of course, leads me to wonder: HOW ARE WE GOING TO DO THIS?! we need to survive this! we need, nay WANT!, to stay married! and happy, and in love, and joyous.... what are we to do?! 

enter jesus (thank GOD. like, literally). 

i read this verse the other day, that while simple, spoke like a lightning bolt to my soul: 

"i am counting on the Lord, yes I am counting on him. I have put my hope in his word. I long for the Lord more than sentries long for the dawn, yes more than sentries long for the dawn. O Israel, hope in the Lord; for with the Lord there is unfailing love. His redemption overflows." (psalm 130:5-8)

so how do i/we get through this season? hope. how do we hold on to what we don't see? hope. how do we overcome resentment, feelings of unfairness, and loneliness? hope. 

we... i... we hope. i count on the Lord that my husband will be healed. i count on the Lord that He loves us so much- unfailingly so!- that we will be redeemed of this illness but also this yucky, unfortunate time in our marriage. 

i hold hope in the Lord to heal us, and i also hold hope in the Lord to give us what we desperately need: unfailing love and overflowing redemption. it's not perfect- hope is not my love language by anyone's stretch of imagination!- but it's something i can work on. it's a project i can work on. i can't heal my husband. i can't change our circumstances. but i can hope. and revile in God's unfailing love and overflowing redemption. 

and i hope that for you, when you look at your own closed door, you can pour your hope into the Lord and find the unfailing flow of love and redemption He has for you. 

but don't think this means i'm ready to watch a scary movie.... 

a mama kind of morning.

As you seasoned mamas out there know, life with kids can easily start to fall into a relatively predictable pattern; after a few months in this big world, babies start to "get their poop in a group" [i.e. get their s*** together] and life starts to structure around their natural rhythms. Praise Jesus, amiright?! (New parents, take heart! It WILL HAPPEN!)

In my house, I see (and cherish!) this specifically in the mornings: my kiddos have a very predictable waking time, which means I get to choose how productive I want to get up and be before they greet the day with their melodic shouts of waking joy (or, more accurately, their whimpering, nasal-y cries of neediness). 

Side note: just because I have the predictable choice every morning, doesn't mean I make good choices. Most mornings, I choose none. None mornings of productivity before the small dictators of the house awake. I lay in bed, hanging onto the wee moments of peace and sleepiness where I can pretend my life is not run by cute but utterly demanding minuscule people).  

Once, though, this one time (yesterday), I did choose to get up (aka move my body to a slightly inclined position), grab some coffee and READ MY BIBLE in bed while waiting for awakening babes. Miracles of all miracles! And that one time, I stumbled upon this verse, which struck a chord: 

"...I don't concern myself with matters too great or too awesome to grasp. Instead I have calmed and quieted myself, like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother's milk. Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within..." Psalm 131:1-2

Weaned child? Mother's milk? Ew. For whatever reason this imagery just grossed me out. So naturally, I re-read the verse a few more times and asked God to help me understand WITW was going on here. 

What I immediately thought, of course, was of my own little world and connection to babies and milk. This is actually super relevant right now: my youngest is one year old (sob!!) in two weeks and with that comes the ability to wean him off the bottle/formula he drinks every day. It's a daunting task on the surface, but I've started to notice he's actually sort of doing it himself. Each morning over the last few weeks he has woken me up with babbles ("Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi! Ya ya ya! Hi!" .... Sooooo cute) instead of wailing hunger pains. He's tossed his morning bottle to the side before he's finished it, instead turning to play with me or look for his brother. 

Not only is it adorable to wake up to, but it's relieving. It reminds me to trust his process, and to see that he trusts me. A newborn wakes up with urgency, hunger, immediacy: he needs milk and needs it NOW. His belly has digested his last feeding and needs more, there's no time to wait! (middle of the night feelings, anyone?!) 

A weaned, growing baby is a relief to a mama; there is less urgency. His belly is big enough to hold his night feeding til morning (yay sleep!) and he is contented with enough knowledge and security to know that I will come to him and he will be satiated. Dare I say a weaned baby is on the verge of a small, baby-sized does of maturity?! 

Reading this verse, while thinking of my baby still in bed and waiting for his wakening cries made me think: this is exactly how I want to be with the Lord: Contented. Trusting. Knowing my meal will be provided for. Being mature and developed enough to hold trust between each encounter I have with the Lord. 

"I don't concern myself with matters to great or too awesome to grasp..." It says. I am not sure about you, but right now I'm for sure in a life season that is too "great" to grasp right now. I don't know why people around me are sick and struggling; I don't know why I am being called to serve beyond what feels like my capacity; I don't know why we can't catch a simple rhythm in our daily lives. It's too great for me to grasp, in all honesty. And if I try to figure it out, spend my time making sense of it all and trying to understand it, I drive myself crazy. 

Instead, this moment and verse reminded me I need to trust: to turn to my God and settle into the calm and quiet His way provides. He has shown up time and time again in my life- in so many ways that I could not even fathom or make sense of at the time- but he has shown up. 

And he will again. And again. And again! Just like I show up, every morning, again, with loving arms and a full bottle for my own baby. 

 

O.O.M.C.

life is hard sometimes, you know?

well, if you're reading this, my guess is that you're a human, so i know you know that. being a human is super tough. this is one of our universal truths that connects us all in human-ness.

i think right now what is really the most challenging for my little brain to understand is the idea of  controlling the tough human stuff: what is actually within my sphere of influence, and what is out of my control (OOMC). and then, once i make that distinction, riddle me this: how do i saddle up for the ride of the un-controllable things that are inevitably going to come?

for instance: my current out-of-my-control things involve big ticket items like: my mom in the middle of intense cancer treatment; my husband going through a very difficult and debilitating skin condition that doctors dismiss; trying to decide how to transition from working mom to stay at home mom and back again each week; having two small children that do NOTHING i want them to when i want them to (naps, anyone?! please? pretty please with a cherry on top?).

i also have a myriad of small, inane things i can't control: the worry over my baby boy's incessant crying- is it because we decided to wean him off hypoallergenic formula too early? or maybe the fever he woke up with today? or the four teeth he has coming in? then there's this baby pink nail polish dribbled in a long, splotchy line over the one and only (expensive) rug we have in the whole stupid house (my toddler needed to paint his toenails in the two point five seconds i stepped away to throw something in the trash). i also have these two swollen eyelids that are apparently suddenly allergic to my life, and i look like a really awesome stoner mom all day. i am still waiting for license plates that just won't come in the mail, even after i paid an arm and a leg for them, and the temp tag on my car is expired by, like, 452 months past the grace period, and i just *fingers crossed* reeeeeally hope i don't get pulled over every day i drive.... etc. etc.

so. many. things!

all the things!

i can't control a single one! lord help me.

lately, it's been difficult to not dwell on the list of OOMC things and come to a sort of justified conclusion that i need to drink a bottle of wine tonight - and every night- til kingdom come and things finally get back into my control. however, let's be honest: i've put in some research in the last few months and learned that drinking a whole bottle of anything doesn't put anything back into my control and lately (because i'm old as dirt), it just gives me a raging headache the next day as i work through that day's out-of-my-control problems.

so let's just go drink wine anyway and call it a day. who's with me??

bueller?

i guess this is where i'd love to insert some amazingly sage wisdom that makes everyone feel like they just figured out the secret to life and can now control all their out-of-my-control problems. wouldn't that be great? sorry (notsorry) but i actually don't have that wisdom.

i could tell you some things that i feel like give me some semblance of control or relief from no control (praying, running, laughing, wine in moderation (most times), Jesus, calling friends, blogging, praying,  knitting, staring at walls, sitting in a locked bathroom alone for like three minutes, praying, etc), but those are sort of distractions and really just serve to release some tension. they don't solve much.

i think i found two things that allow me to actually sit with the discomfort of being out of control (and therefore are the answers to my world right now, and i should probably make sure to re-read this later to take my own advice).

one: remembering the stuff that makes life awesome. because most of that is out of my control too, and i couldn't make it better if i tried. for me, a lot of that is the stuff surrounding my kids do during the day (insert vomit/"she's talking about her kids again" emoji here please). like today, i said to my husband, " i didn't mean that in a condescending way" and my two year old ran around naked, yelling, "condescending way! condescending way! condescending way!". or when my one year old intentionally walks up to me with a poker face and then points at me with his chubby little hand and smiles so big, from the bottom of this toes to the top of his head. or the light of the sun setting as we walk back from the library and ice cream store, pulling my little dudes in our red wagon and holding my husband's hand. i can't control any of that stuff but man, it melts my heart.

and, take heart, you with no children! not all of it is kid stuff, either- some of this happens at work, too. like when my clients make big break throughs or changes that i can see radically improve their lives. or when i hold the newborn baby of a client that came in initially because she thought she'd never be loved by anyone, let alone get married and have a baby. i don't get to control what my clients do in their time away from our sessions, but when i see it working and them finding joy, i can't help but relish in the mysterious nature of life that i cannot control nor predict.

the second solution for me is: perspective. reminding myself and  surrounding myself with other people. because they also have out of their control problems. and some of them are so much smaller, and some of them are so much bigger, and all of us together can connect over the same feeling of being out of control. for instance: there's this blogger/writer/beautiful woman i recently started following (ie stalking, like a total creeper) on instagram and her blog. on the surface, she has the most beautiful life, in photos and in writing. but if you look closely, you learn that that beauty is made up of mothering three adorable kiddos, two of which are medically fragile, and one of which she was told would probably not even been born alive. as i read through the chronicles of her life and admire her simple, bright pictures, i am in awe that someone that has had so many seemingly discouraging and life-changing out of control problems has such a beautiful, hopeful perspective on life. she has taken her out-of-my-control prob;ems and embraced them, lived them, loved through them.

and i don't have to find people that only have bigger problems than mine to gain perspective. every single person i do life with has their own story they are trying to write, fraught with plot twists and antagonists, pit falls and broken story lines. we are all just these humans, with broken things happening to and around us. rather than trying to compare, rather than trying to isolate myself and tell myself that my stuff is 'so bad' and i 'just can't handle it', i have to immerse myself in others to see that i'm not alone in my out-of-my-control feelings. it's a healing that's hard to beat, learning that you're not alone (even if you're the only one with a pink nail polished rug).