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My husband owned a small lawn business for 13 years. While it definitely had it perks, he has since returned to working for a large corporation. Boy do I wish someone had told me all the things THEN that I know NOW about owning a small business- especially one in which services are sold versus products. Labor services at that. There was a steep learning curve for this NP, but it definitely added to my life experience and business savvy.
This post does not align with most of my content, BUT with mowers buzzing outside my window as spring marches on, it prompted me to reflect on those years in the lawn industry. I do not regret those years at all. They afforded me the opportunity to work part-time for 2 years when my boys were little. I was very proud of the services we provided, and I was extremely proud of my husband's efforts as a business owner and entrepreneur.
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Photo Credit: Annie Spratt I was eager and he was young I was ready but he was numb I was happy and he was still I was hopeful but he was nil We had some laughs We had some smiles I read to him at night Does he remember those times? Then I had his brothers and he backed away or did I hedge him out? who could truly say? Come to me sweet boy not you, I mean him I mean all 3 of you silly I mean all of 3 of them It's different they all say he's not your blood Is it different? Aren't they all different? It's clouded. It's mud. I'm stuck and he's stuck. He looks and I look. We smile and they smile. I ache and he aches. We give and we take and sometimes it all breaks. His daddy can't get it. How could he? It's pointless. But I have to get it. And do it. And "go on, sis" Keep going. Keep numbing. I didn't know it. He didn't know it. We didn't know it but we did it and here we are and we are in it. So I look at him, a product as much of me as his dad. And I don't know what to do with it. I have these other 2 on my tab. The deductions, subtractions, additions?, conditions? It's all hard and whoever says that it isn't just ISN'T telling the truth dear. See I try to be real. He's "not mine" but I'm his and we're each other's and how does that feel? Would I change it? Some days I would. In a heartbeat. Not a second thought. But does he need me and do I need him and are we better because we came together when we were both broken and wounded and bleeding and cold Now we're mending and warmer and dare I say, a little old. Was it easy? It's been the hardest thing I've ever done. It can push 2 lovers apart quicker than any weapon, any gun, any bullet to the heart that's how some moments felt I have wept, I have wailed, I have screamed, I have knelt But one day his daddy may find out what it took to hold it ALL together and to remain unshook in the quake of dysfunction and abandonment and grief of a sweet little boy looking helplessly at me. She didn't stay, sweet baby, and I'm so sorry. I can't explain it. But I'm here and I'm not leaving, and I promise - I wouldn't change it. To every little boy or every little girl who had a mama or a daddy step up outside of the DNA lines. This is to you dear ones and to the strong adults who have rearranged their hearts and lives for you. We wouldn't change it. My story is different than most step-moms. Almost seven when I met him he already had a mom. So I did what thought a step-mom would do. I had no child of my own. Lord knows I did not have a clue how to parent this sweet boy who slept down the hall every other week for a week. Thus we stumbled; there were falls. Those early years of homework and karate class. Parent-teacher conferences where I was often asked if I was his mom, since I was the only one who seemed tuned in who emailed and would come to all his events, I was all in. Meanwhile I had my babies 20 months apart, back to back. Boys upon boys, our schedules were packed. Those years of one on the hip and one in the belly and one hitting puberty. I wish THIS wiser me could tell THAT younger me that it would all work out one way or another; but his daddy and I we fought over and over. I saw coddling. He saw support. I saw side-taking. He saw retort. Step-son soon lived with us full-time and that was that. I was really his mom. She stopped putting on the act. So I again tried to treat all 3 the same "we have rules in this house" "If you did it, take the blame." But Daddy (to me) just couldn't allow his oldest who had been hurt to be kept in tow. Maybe by him, but never by me. Maybe on a Tuesday, but never consistently. So the marital battle of blended families began. It wasn't "yours, mine, and ours" it was "Me & The Little Two versus Them." And it divided us, collided us, excised us from the family that I had prayed for and dreamed of and waited for... But I didn't know how to fix it, The divide between the 5 of us. I was "always too hard on him," I needed to "chill out and stop caring so much." This passionate mama doesn't know how to do that. I see my children and I want them to try and to do their best. Thus the battle continued. There were wounds. There were scars. Being a full-time step-parent has left its mark. On our marriage. On my spirit. On my step-son, I'm sure. The war still continues as we are almost 2 years in to him being an adult and out of the house. I have certain expectations. I require a text or call now and then. I wish I could tell you it's easy or fun. Maybe for some folks it is, but not for us. Trying to glue us back together has been the hardest thing I have EVER done. But we keep on trying Keep on fighting Is it Fighting or is it Trying? The world keeps spinning The time keeps ticking The years seem shorter The road can seem colder... but sometimes on a Saturday when I watch my children smile and play, I remember that it's worth it and HE is worth it and WE are worth it. I sigh and sleep the hurt away. So if you love someone you didn't make You see their soul, and you feel their ache, Remember that they know the truth And love is really all they need from you. Keep loving. Love heals. If you love someone you didn't make, I see you. You are seen. And you matter. 2 year anniversary of covid- what isn't in the news or really discussed publicly:
What is working?
What is not working?
What's next? What do I want more of?
Okay, so what does my list of "stuff" have to do with you? It's meant to be a guide or a tool for you to do your own quarterly review. What is working? What is not working? What do you want more of? Or less of? What have you learned in the last 3 months? I encourage you to take a few moments to yourself in one of those cracks of time we all barely get these days. Write it down. Type it in your phone notes. Say it out loud if you want to do that. But give it some THOUGHT. Consistent quarterly reviews or seasonal reflections can be life-giving and increase your productivity, contentment, and enthusiasm for what lies before you! Godspeed. ❤️ I distinctly remember a conversation I had with an acquaintance when I was a brand new NP in my late 20s. I did not have children yet, but I had made some poor money decisions (traveling and shopping outside of my means mostly). The woman chatting with me (who was 10-15 years my senior) said "Oooooooh, I can only imagine how much money you make. You're a nurse practitioner!" She added "If I were you, I would go get a Starbucks every day! I would pay someone to clean my house! I would buy whatever I wanted." What she didn't know:
What I didn't know:
So - what does any of that have to do with me taking my lunch to work every day as an adult? The truth is, everything. Every. Single. Thing. My plans for this post were to include healthy lunch tips. I was going to post pictures of a variety of healthy lunches I have made and taken (those don't happen during baseball season). I was going to calculate the money I have saved over the past 12-15 years I have been brown-bagging my lunch. But here's the truth. This is why I take my lunch every day. Are you ready?
And I guess me laying all that out to you, friends, is the point. I like the truth. I like the real WHY. I see through the frivolities in life and I shudder at the brand-chasing and label-seeking that drives so many. There is no dollar amount one could pay me to give up my kindergarten-style lunches. It's what I need at this moment right now, and it keeps me sane. Time is my Starbucks - freedom is my housekeeper. To write, to think, to create, to build something from nothing. That's what I chase. Until then, there's homework and practice and rehearsal and charts. Laundry and dishes and puberty and a tired Mom pouring her heart out on the internet. Find your "lunch" --- figure out what keeps you off the edge and what you really want to chase. Godspeed. ❤️
Does any of this sound familiar? It can be so VERY painful! How do we handle it? How do we move forward? I am currently working on being more vulnerable with my SAFE trusted people. I do not encourage jumping into vulnerability with strangers or acquaintances - you will almost always get burned. Instead, I encourage you to try it - tiptoe into it- with a very few people that you trust. Share your true feelings. Your fears. Your struggles. Your feelings of inadequacy. Your shame. But beware- even your SAFE people may not know what to do when you share these things. You may be the one who is always strong. You may be the one who always helps others but never needs help. This may be due to your Enneagram or personality type, or it may be a learned skill from your family of origin. And by skill, I also mean defense or coping mechanism, but I digress... So... what if you finally open up with said trusted people and they don't know how to respond? What next? My suggestion is to allow THEM time to process it. After all, they aren't used to you coming to them for advice or support. After adequate time has passed, ask them if you two can talk about it. Remind them that you shared this with them because you trust them and you value their feedback. If they are unable to support you for whatever reason, you will know that they might not be someone you can turn to in a time of need or that right now they just do not have the bandwidth to support you. And that's okay. If you receive pushback from your person or one of the rejections I listed above, then perhaps this says more about them and their own feelings of self-worth or lack thereof. Perhaps empathy is not their strong suit. Perhaps not being the center of attention does not fit within their needs. Perhaps supporting you takes too much of their energy that they would rather spend elsewhere. And if so, then you have your answer. Take that however you choose. So that covers the topic of vulnerability with SAFE loved ones. What about rejection? Rejection can occur in friendships, romantic relationships, at work, at your child's activities (mom hate, anybody? or mom cliques?). Rejection can be aggressive and in-your-face or it can be silent and manipulative. Rejection can be someone you love simply not supporting you or asking about your newfound passion or project (or marriage or kids or job or anything for that matter). That feels like rejection, right? Rejection can be passive-aggressive or outright pointed and forceful. Anything that makes us feel like our efforts are either unnoticed or unappreciated or unsupported FEELS LIKE rejection. Perhaps your corporation just doesn't know what to do with you. So they just kinda ignore you and your talents and even though EVERYONE ELSE you encounter praises you, they just watch you from afar. Perhaps your love interest is jealous of your success, so instead of celebrating and bragging to others about you, they just sit quietly while complete strangers are the ones to congratulate you. Maybe your family members have always wanted to do what it is that you are actually brave enough to do now and so they can't find the words to talk with you about it. Their feelings of inadequacy outweigh their actual love for you and desire to support you. All this stuff is DEEP, ya'll - and it's real. I have witnessed it on both ends - both the recipient of rejection and the one crippled with (insert emotion here) so much that I couldn't tell my loved one I was proud of them. How many social media posts have you AVOIDED (scrolled right by) because you weren't sure what to comment or if you were truly happy for that person OR it made you feel some type of way? STOP RIGHT THERE. I know for 100% FACTS that I just told the truth. Every single person reading this right now has done that. DM me if I'm wrong. It's okay that you have done it (I've done it too!!!!), but I would encourage you to stop. Take some deep breaths. Walk outside if that's what grounds you. And ask yourself what emotion you are feeling and maybe why you are feeling it. That person who posted whatever it is that triggered you was NOT thinking about you when they posted it. (Everyone is always only thinking about themselves, 99% of the time, or so Dear Therapist reminds me regularly). Perhaps YOU need to work on whatever it is that was triggered inside you to the point that you couldn't congratulate or console someone you actually care about. I REPEAT. Perhaps YOU need to work on whatever it is that was triggered inside you to the point that you couldn't congratulate or console someone you actually care about. Again, I am not a licensed therapist, but I have worked with patients for over 20 years. I'm in my second marriage. I am a regular mom and a full-time step-mom. I have been in and lived in functional families and dysfunctional families. I have been betrayed. I have been lied to and belittled. I am a trauma survivor and I am honestly only trying to help anybody, not everybody. If I can help one person know and feel that they are not alone, then me sitting here typing on my back patio on my glorious day off is worth every second of my time and ounce of my energy. The birds are chirping, ya'll. The sun is shining. And I want to live. I want to both be alive and enjoy my life. It's almost spring and I feel a shift on the horizon. I'm tired of all the surface conversations and BS. I'm ready to speak my truth. Vulnerability is hard and rejection stinks. Bottom line. But we can do better. We just have to pause, think, consider who it is we may be hurting (because of our own garbage we are also working on), and then do better. Godspeed. I have a beefy cardiology post that was supposed to drop today, but I don't wanna. I've started it, and it's important, but it's way too serious after coming off a glorious restful vacation. Instead, I thought I would share all the random thoughts that have been filling up and overflowing from my overworked brain. Maybe you can relate. Maybe not. Either way, you might find these entertaining.
Anywho, it's Saturday- the sun in shining - and if you're exhausted parenting toddlers right now, just enjoy the Duplos and Play-Doh. Starbucks and Xbox await! Entitlement and minimal communication are just chillin' - they'll come soon enough! Godspeed moms and dads. How did our parents survive us? 🥰 photo credit: Josh Hild Have you ever been in a crowded room Conversations buzzing Bass guitar, drums kaboom Fun is in the air Laughter all around Does anyone notice I haven't been found? Sure, I am talking pushing out a nod yes Does anyone notice my brand new dress? I have so many ideas, fresh perspectives, big dreams Does anyone notice my ship is moving downstream? Hey, Listen! Watch this! Help me decide what to do! Does anyone notice I have dilemmas and crises too? Take, take, take Always dolling out the goods But I want to receive Dear Therapist told me I could! How do I ask for it? I thought I told them what I need. They can't handle me needing them. For I am the Savior indeed. Not the Savior like Jesus but the Solver, the Lover The Healer, The Lifter The Fixer, The Mother I want to be picked up. I want to be tucked in. I want to be protected. I want to be the less friend. Did I say less? Oh wow. I did. I'm too tired to be the best. I'm too broken to always mend. And pick up and clean up and listen and console. I want to be picked up. I'm no longer willing to be told that something else is more important and you can't handle anymore. I need a net, a pillow, a soft spot. I need a knock on my door. So if you're sitting at that table feeling overlooked and used. I see you, my fellow Fixer, Let's blow up this one-sided ruse. To all the Takers in this world. From all the tired, used Givers.
It can start any day, any time, anywhere. It can begin without warning. The overwhelm. It's like a net that covers me and I struggle to break free. Whenever I feel my heart start to race and my mind going in a million different directions, I know it’s time to do a brain dump. This often happens when I’m driving or in the shower or - even less convenient- when I put my head on the pillow at night. It is very tempting to let those thoughts go, but I have learned to capture them when I can. If I am in bed and the lights are off, I will grab my phone and voice text whatever is in my mind into the notes section of my phone. If there is a reminder I need to set, then I do that in the reminder app that comes standard on an iPhone. For those of you who are not tech savvy but you have an iPhone, you can use Siri to set a reminder or to create an event in your calendar. If lights are still on, I often jot it down on the notepad I keep next to my bed. I have the kind of brain that remembers better if my hand physically writes it down. This is why I still use a paper planner in 2022. If I am driving, I use Apple CarPlay and Siri to do what I mentioned above. I talk into the notes section of my phone or set reminders or create events... all hands-free with my steering wheel and my iPhone. I do not hate technology at all in this capacity. If I am in the shower, I could still use Siri, but she usually doesn’t understand me over the shower. In that situation, I just write down as much as I can remember as soon as I step out of the shower. Yes, I keep a notepad and pens in my top bathroom drawer. I am THAT person. Speaking of the shower, I try not to think of things. I try to use the shower for mindfulness. Mindfulness sounds fancy and woo-woo, but it’s really just being aware of your body in the moment. One example is thinking “I feel the hot water touch the back of my head. It is running down my back and onto the shower floor. I see the water pooling at my feet. I hear the water as it hits the tile. I taste the toothpaste minty and clean in my mouth. I smell the shampoo I am rubbing into my hair. I am thankful to be alive. Today is a blessing.” If I am practicing mindfulness, it is hard for my thoughts to race elsewhere. photo credit: www.atrapamente.com Another way I center myself is the butterfly tapping technique (linked below), deep breathing exercises (inhale through nose 4 seconds, hold 4 seconds, exhale through mouth 5 seconds). I have used both of these with my entire family when my kids have been off the rails and I needed to get us back on track mentally and emotionally. It takes practice, but it works! Once the kids realized they HAD to do it, they actually got into it. Now, let’s talk about how to actually do a brain dump effectively. I just did one since I was feeling overwhelmed with a busy week ahead, so feel free to reference the picture below. The most effective way I have brain dumped over the years is to separate my random thoughts into categories. I base the categories on grouping similar tasks:
The below picture is just a quick 2-3 minute brain dump. When I use the aforementioned categories, that type of brain dump is a 20-30 minute all-inclusive, major brain dump. Those are the BEST ways to brain dump and my body leans toward doing them on Sundays as I am planning for the week ahead. If I miss a Sunday, my brain and body know it. David Allen is famous for his Getting Things Done book and method. He touts that our brains are not meant to carry information and task lists, they are meant to THINK. That feels very true for me. If my brain is full of a to-do list, I am usually unable to write or create. Once I unload all those tasks I've been juggling on trays in my brain like an overworked restaurant server, I can actually let my brain "breathe" and creativity ensues. I also included a recent monthly meal plan for December 2021. Planning meals one month at a time has GREATLY reduced my overwhelm. I linked the way I actually meal plan down below. Once we have emptied our minds via the brain dump, now we can face the actual overwhelm. Sometimes the overwhelm was just that, carrying too many tasks and to-dos around in our minds. The mental overload of life in 2022. Sometimes it's emotional overwhelm. Grief. Sadness. Loneliness. Disappointment. Regret. Shame. Longing. Anger (which someone somewhere said that Anger is Fear Dressed Up and that resonates with me). Envy. Comparison. Greed. Sometimes it's physical overwhelm. Exhaustion. Physical pain. Illness. Injury. Anxiety or depression manifesting as physical symptoms (headaches, abdominal pain, joint or muscle aches). No matter what TYPE of overwhelm we are feeling, the spiral is the same. Sometimes sleep or a healthy meal can provide relief. Often silence and solitude are the answer for me. Just know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I am fighting the fight with you. Godspeed. 🎼 Cherish: My Love Letter to Music 🎼 I cherish the depth of a bass guitar It tickles my rib cage; it teases my heart My toes start tapping; my hips, they sway Whether I am sad or mad or lonely, it’s okay While the melody speaks to me, The harmony sees through me The drums set up space in my body and soul, Add brass and winds and keys, Now I am whole But the lyrics, the WORDS are what I cherish the most They pierce me, tattoo me, renew me, and expose Those tiny little pieces that we all try to hide The lyrics, the WORDS... they seep gently inside I cherish the music that built this life The staccato of pleasure, the minor chords of strife In my darkest hour or my coldest night I cherish my medicine of music; it shines the light The lights are on and the volume is up I cherish the music that yields me unstuck I am rhythm, I am blues, I am a crescendo of hues Oh music, sweet music, our wayward spirits be fused When I received the "CHERISH" writing prompt from my writer's group, I had a small chuckle. My small bloggers' writing group consists primarily of Christian writers, all of whom are women, and whose work I enjoy and admire. That said, I considered all the ways we can cherish God and our faith that these women would probably cover in their posts. My mind, however, went STRAIGHT to Kool & the Gang's song Cherish which was released in 1985 when I was 9 years old and full of hope. What can I say? Music is in my BONES. I wake up with it. I end my day with it. It is a constant soundtrack for any emotion I have ever had, and it seems to pour out of me without effort. I cannot imagine my life without music, and well... I just love it. Please support my fellow hope*writers by reading their work:
Something has happened. You are hurting or your loved one is hurting and the ickiness or awkwardness or forced normalcy is not going to go anywhere anytime soon. Feelings are hurt. Perhaps a misunderstanding or perhaps a true "injury" to the relationship has occurred. Words or actions that cannot be unsaid or undone. And a difficult conversation needs to be had. You dread it. You hate confrontation. But you can't sleep either. And you can't make polite small talk anymore. There's an elephant in the room and she's on fire. (I love elephants so forgive that visual- just trying to portray a feeling). So what next? The truth is that I don't have the answer here. I recently had two difficult conversations and neither one was fun. The advice I will give is from my therapist (I really should buy her a nice dinner for all the content I glean from her- thank you Unnamed Therapist 🥰):
Keep all of these tips in mind while you have the difficult conversation. My prayer for you is that your difficult conversations are productive, meaningful, and end in resolution. Life is hard enough on its own. Let us choose our words wisely and remember that those who love us are rarely trying to hurt us. Godspeed. My quick money story. Everybody has one, right? Some people are born into money, some are not. Some people make a fantastic income and still struggle to pay their bills. Others make an average income and live comfortably within their means. Not many people talk about money. It's a secret. It now comes and goes in several icons on our devilish palm-sized devices (see my love hate relationship with my phone here). Anyway, my money story goes something like this: - average childhood, that's my parents' story to tell, but I never really felt STRESSED about money as a child and I was taught some good sound financial principles (thanks Mom & Dad) -got into > 40k in debt in my 20's by living above my means, keeping up with the Joneses and making poor financial decisions -spent 4 years of my 30's GETTING OUT OF DEBT which looked like paying $1000 /month towards old credit card debt FOR FOUR YEARS STRAIGHT (ouch!) -now I am in my 40's and focused on saving for retirement, paying our house off, and avoiding unnecessary debts I say all of that to say: I am not certified in anything financial. I have read some books and followed some financial influencers over the years, and I am very entrenched in our family's finances. I am also learning from my retired parents about what it will actually look like to live on a retirement income. I am familiar with Medicare, pensions, social security benefits, Roth IRAs, and 401k/403b plans. I am not a day trader or financial wizard. I'm somewhere in the middle, and I think that is probably where most of my readers are too. I have had to have very frank discussions about money with patients over the years (financial stress can GREATLY affect one's health and cause caregiver strain with children of elderly patients). So I decided to write about it. Part of my passion for writing is speaking the truth and shedding light on everything that is making us all stressed and uncomfortable. Now that you know my purpose for this piece, are you ready??? Let's do this! My 10 smart money tips for anyone, anywhere:
Let's go through each Money Tip in more detail so that we have a better understanding of them.
PRO TIP: The pictures below are just an example of using my banking app to monitor my spending. You can see the pie chart is for ALL of my 2021 spending. Since I don't have a car payment, I divided my auto expenses by 12. That came to around $392. Since I know car insurance makes up around $200 of the $392, I calculated that I am spending around $172 / month on gas. This is just an easy example of using your banking app to see what you are ACTUALLY spending on categories in your budget. What you think you spend and what you actually spend are often 2 very different amounts. So do your research! It costs you nothing to look at your spending and it will give you so much insight to your financial health! I did not write this post to provoke guilt or shame about your spending or finances. I have had 40k+ in debt and I have felt that overwhelming burden. It's just part of my story, and I am no longer ashamed of it.
When I sat down to do my YEARLY REVIEW at the end of 2021, I was literally drained. I was exhausted: mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I could barely even form a sentence in my head. As I started PLANNING MY YEAR AHEAD as I usually do each holiday season, I started to see just how many things were already on my calendar. I am not sure if I felt disbelief, disgust, or disenchantment. "That will be cancelled. That won't happen. I doubt we actually do that." After two years of cancelled, postponed, and rescheduled plans, I almost reached for a pencil instead of a pen. I am eternally optimistic, but I am TIRED. You know those days where you sit down in the evening and you feel like you've been to DisneyWorld with 2 toddlers and 2 strollers and a newborn? Those days where you are driving home from a busy day in family practice and you aren't even exactly sure what your own name is (much less a disease or dosage of medication)? I feel like we've all had TWO YEARS of those days. So I decided to just boycott goals altogether for 2022. I wasn't going to make goal(s) for Health, Finance, Education, Personal Growth, Career, Family, Marriage, Spirituality, Home, etc like I usually do every year. The thought of doing that after I wrote my GOAL SETTING post was just as insurmountable as climbing Mount Everest (for this girl who already battles a chronic lung disease). Choosing a word for the year? Meh. And usually I am ALL OVER THAT!. But the only words that have come to mind lately (that don't include mild profanity) are flexibility, change, resiliency, and stamina. And I realize all of those words are entrenched in what I have LEARNED FROM THIS PANDEMIC as a frontline family NP. So I haven't chosen a word just yet. And I'm not sure that I will choose one for 2022.
And what I'm finding is that wearing ACTUAL CLOTHES (no scrubs, no standard mom "leggings and a tee" uniform) makes me feel better. It makes me feel better about myself, my life, my marriage, my work, and my day. I never thought I would be typing this, but it's TRUE. I choose healthier foods and move more when my pants have a zipper and a button. 👖 I try to have healthier emotional reactions when I don't look like I just rolled out of bed. 🧘♀️ I am reminded of my passion for medicine when I am dressed the professional part. 👩⚕️ I am even nicer to my husband when I like my reflection in the mirror. 👩❤️👨 I feel better about spending all the money I have spent on clothes now that I am actually wearing them. 😜 So there you have it. I set one goal for 2022. It is simple and it used to be automatic. What happened to the girl who loved shoes and purses and dressing up? Where did she go? Who and what took her from me? I feel her trying to emerge again. She is ready for this new year. She has no idea what's going to happen and no control over any of it. But she is showing up. And she looks and feels AMAZING. 👗 *** most of the time
*** except on Mondays *** or on days when her kids are off the chain *** but she is trying ☀️ I recently had a situation in my life as a mother which brought connection and shared experience to the forefront of my mind. One of my children has not felt connected to one of his teachers and has expressed concern that this teacher may not like him. As a mom, I knew I needed to explore this since this child in particular craves connection. Words of affirmation are definitely his love language. We are working through this issue, and I have hope that only good things will come from our conversations with the teacher, the principal, and other teachers who are on his team. These conversations were definitely a lightbulb moment for me. All of us, young and old, rich or poor, of any faith or no faith at all, no matter where we live… We all want to feel connected to other people. Loneliness is an epidemic and I am on a crusade to at least put a small dent in its wrath. During our brainstorming sessions, we realized that students in general are receiving positive and negative feedback mostly in a digital format. When I learned that my child received praise through an app that was cast on a screen in his classroom for all to see (and negative feedback in the same way), I was speechless. Do you not verbally praise or reinforce my child? What about in writing on his assignments? I was met with a blank stare. I cringed. And then I thought about my own life and the life of all adults in 2022. All the likes, the comments, the shares, the tags, the texts instead of a phone call, the email instead of a conversation, the gift card instead of a thoughtful handmade or store-bought item, and I cringed again. How do I give my boys positive and negative feedback? Will they only remember the text I sent? Will they remember evenings of me responding to lab values and MRI results on an inanimate object instead of cuddling with them on the couch? Will they think that when I am texting a friend in crisis that my friend is more important? I only have one child with a cell phone- thank you Jesus, but that will change. Will my communication with these precious boys change? Will I sit idly by and watch it happen? I was not going to watch my child’s love for learning unravel due to one disconnected teacher. I was on that like white on rice. Even the school administration agreed that children need verbal feedback today more than ever since most instruction includes a screen unfortunately. That said, am I walking the walk and talking the talk that I am demanding for my own child? How do I let the people I love know that I love them? Is it a text, an email? When is the last time we spoke on the phone - or better yet - saw each other in person? Yes a pandemic shut a lot of things down, but there are safe ways to connect. FaceTime is actually a beautiful thing. The Marco Polo app has improved my marriage tremendously since my husband and I work opposite shifts. And my family members that live under my roof? I have no excuse if I do not connect with them daily. About a year ago, I placed time limits on my social media apps. I allow myself 30 minutes total between Facebook, Instagram, and TikTok per day. Gasp. When my timer is up, those apps go dark. Some days I override the limit if there are particular things I am interested in or if I am looking for something to make me feel better (did I just type that? Yes. Sadly, I did). But on those days that I stick to that limit, I am a better parent, a better wife, a better daughter, a better nurse practitioner, and a better friend. This may not be true for you, but it is for me. So, if I’m not on my phone, what in the world am I doing? Have you ever considered how much time you would have if you plugged your phone in another room the minute you arrived home in the evening? What would you do? How would your spouse feel if you gave them an hour of your undivided attention each day? How would your child feel? And if you live alone, are not in a relationship, or do not have children, this still applies. I’m sure you have friends, other family members, and hobbies. What about your faith or your mental health? What if you dedicated 10 minutes per day to either one of those? In 2022, nobody knows what to do with themselves. It is a real problem I see every day in my practice. Rarely do I enter an exam room when a patient is not on their phone. I cannot remember the last time I went into a restaurant and didn’t see a couple who were both on their phone during the meal. Children do not know how to sit in a waiting room or in a car or at a dining table without a screen, and that literally breaks my heart. And what breaks my heart even more, is most of the faces on those screens are of strangers. They are not the child’s parent, grandparent, cousin, mentor, coach. They are someone being paid by a marketing group to make our children feel good. And adults are just as guilty. When did mothers and fathers stop making their children feel good? When did teachers stop making their students feel loved? When did friends stop talking with actual words that come out of their mouths? When did spouses start sending each other videos and memes instead of talking about hopes and dreams and struggles? I do not have all the answers. I only have my house, my family, my thoughts and behaviors that I can somewhat control. And I am ready to take back the reigns, ditch the digital input, and turn on the lights in my own life. I will no longer be an avatar of a human. I will be live and in person. My boys and my husband will hear my voice and feel my touch if I have any say so at all. We need a revolution my friends. Our children will never survive a marriage if they cannot talk to each other. They need us, and quite frankly we need them too. We are the solution. We just have to put our devices down and show up. Godspeed. Please support my fellow hope*writers by checking out their posts about LIFE: A Radiant Life By MelAnn of Grace and Rapture https://graceandrapture.com/publish/post/44999942 Pursuing Life By Jessica Weaver www.rootedunrooted.com/blog/pursuing-life Parenting Advice for a Better Life By Ashley Olivine https://louvaria.com/parenting-advice/ Embrace Eternal Life in Jesus Christ By Lisa Granger https://lisamarcelina.net/embrace-eternal-life-in-jesus-christ Living a Life Well Worth Living By Lori Shoaf https://www.lorishoaf.com/stories-to-encourage/living-a-life-well-worth-living. 1% Living Every Single Day By Dianne Vielhuber https://simplewordsoffaith.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=10546&action=edit What does it take to run a household or a life? Why are there so many memes and jokes about "adulting?" Aren't there things we all do every week or are we just wandering through life constantly trying to remember what it is we were supposed to do? It's taken me years and tears, but I finally developed a few systems to decrease my overwhelm. Here is my own personal list of weekly tasks. I don't do these every week, BUT having a list gives me somewhere to start.
I love a good checklist. Give me a task and I will try to complete it. That said, the list above has some nuances and caveats that are worth mentioning to a novice attempting to "get my life together." I did not make that list overnight, AND some of the steps may or may not apply to you. So let's dig deeper!
I know that was a lot of words to describe what sounds like it would be a simple process. It's not simple though, is it? If it were simple, we would all be doing it and no bill would ever be late, no appointment would ever be missed, and no child would ever go to school without their $5 field trip money that was due yesterday. And so I wrote it all down. I still miss things. I don't do this every week, because LIFE. Perfect is a cruel joke and not that fun anyway. So just do what you can and maybe at least one of these tips will bring you a little peace and a little more free time in the end to do what you were called to do. ☀️ I posted this on Instagram in December 2018, so this shows I have been using a weekly review process for years. I like to follow authentic people and my readers might feel the same way. ☀️ Also, in my experience, I can't write or talk about what I don't know about. My 9-year-old though? He can tell the tallest tale you've ever heard! 😜 After I complete my yearly review, I try to set goals for the next year. I also look at my list of what added and what subtracted to my life and I keep all of those in mind as I set goals and plan events. To do this, I have several supplies at my fingertips AND several hours (sometimes spread over a few days) to complete this process. I recommend the following supplies:
Goal Setting 101:
I have 8 areas in which I set goals each year:
Here's an example of a SMART goal: Read 10 books in one year. It is Specific. Measurable. Achievable (I allow 2 months without a book at all). Relevant and realistic (education or entertainment is always good!). Time bound. I have a start and an end date. I can also easily track the goal throughout the year (I keep a "books read" in the back of my planner). Selecting your word of the year. This is optional, but I enjoy the process each year and it does help me try to maintain a central theme or focus each year. Some of my previous years' words have been:
Now the hard part. Actually planning out your year and setting goals for the year. These two steps are intertwined and can truly be life-changing if you take the time to do BOTH. If perhaps you are reading this in March or August or on a random Tuesday in November, that's OKAY. Your "year" can start at any time. You may be home with a new baby or off work for a health flare-up or surgery and you're just now having time to even remember your name. Sometimes these unexpected pockets in time are goldmines. Use this downtime to evaluate and future-plan. As I've hit this midlife bubble of feeling young and old all at the same time, my goals have changed. My expectations are lower for myself and others (thank you, therapy). My drive is more internally-based but is now redeemed by others just as much as it is myself. In short, my years of people-pleasing are behind me, BUT following my true self has led to a more community-focused and family-focused mindset. The cool part is that me, myself, and I benefit from that mindset shift as much or more than my loved ones and my community. Kinda hard to explain, but the moral of the story is to follow your heart. Everyone wins when we do that. Godspeed. In order to plan for 2022, I first had to complete my 2021 yearly review. Be sure to block off at least 30 minutes to complete that task. It is a worthy investment of your time. I have detailed each step for the yearly review process here: 2022 planning- what I KNOW for sure is on the books: January
***I did not include my own health appts***. that list is too long 🤪 Once you have crafted your year-at-a-glance, start plugging dates into your Google calendar and/or paper planner. Consider the goals you set during your goal-setting session (my post on goal-setting linked below). Try to plug in some of your goals into your year-at-a-glance during the month in which you think it might occur. Examples include: - Health: run a 5k - go ahead and find a 5k in your area and list it in the month ahead; remind yourself to register in the previous month - Fun: game night with the girls- go ahead and find a Saturday you can host and plug it in your calendar and create the Facebook event so you'll remember to invite people or they can go ahead and save the date - Personal development: book that conference you want to attend, start saving for it, plug it into your calendar, and set a few reminders before the actual conference date, go ahead and ask a friend if you want someone to attend with you -Home: your fence needs to be painted so go ahead and slate the month you plan to do it; plug it into your calendar; get estimates if you're hiring it out or price your own materials if you plan to do it yourself You can see by my rather extensive list that some months are simply TOO BUSY to tackle a home project or Girls Weekend. Looking at your year-at-a-glance in a list format like this is THE BEST way to future-plan in my experience. Calendars are great, but this really shows how crowded some months can be. I can do an entire post on the month of May and its insanity. May and December have become nothing short of a circus for most parents in America, and I happen to have national nurse's day and a child with a birthday that month to boot. Hopefully, this overview of my year-at-a-glance planning technique will give you some clarity for your year ahead. You may skim through my list and think, No Way Jose, I am NOT going to even think about any of that stuff until I need to think about it. As someone who struggles with anxiety, however, I like to know what's ahead of me. Yes, I still have my minutes, hours, days of complete and total overwhelm which end in a long Netflix binge with a bowl of microwave popcorn or some random unnecessary online shopping stint. We each numb in our own ways. 🤪
I encourage you to give this yearly overview planning process a try. 2020 and 2021 were a ball of fear, disappointment, grief, cancelled plans, confused children, learning gaps, and strained marriages and friendships (for many different reasons). We were all cooped up with people we may or may not like doing things we may not have ever done before. We weren't sure who to believe or what to do. I see a light at the end of that horrible tunnel, so maybe a little navigation and forethought will help us all. Godspeed. Part of the reason I keep a planner is because my memory is terrible. Just ask my best friend since third grade. I blame it on nursing and NP school and having to memorize so many drugs and diseases. I also blame it on having lived in four states and meeting several "sets of people" in my lifetime. Anyway, when I sit down to start my year end review, I grab my planner. I repress memories which I am working on in therapy, but I really can’t remember what happened the past year without flipping through each month and glancing at big moments. I am not exactly sure why my brain is like that, but it is and yours may be too? Sometimes my mind is blown when I look at everything that happened in my personal or professional or emotional life in one calendar year. How do we survive with the pace and the demands of the world today? When is enough enough? Everyone I know feels like they’re drowning with all the work deadlines, projects, meetings, kids' activities, sports, and that's not even accounting for the emotional toll the past 2 years have taken on every single one of us. When I look back over 2021 in my own life, the following events come to light:
As I look back over the events of 2021, it often sparks me to plan and reserve trips or experiences for 2022. My manager also loves that I give her my days off for the entire year in December or January. I realize you might not be able to do this, but it actually reduces my anxiety knowing in January when I will be off throughout the year. If I am having an extremely stressful season / week / month, I already know the upcoming days of rest that are scheduled. My patients appreciate it too... less moving and rearranging (sorry for those reading this- 2021 was rough on my schedule!). 🤪 Sitting down and performing a yearly review also gives me reassurance or reminders of certain events I do NOT want to attend or participate in again. It helps me to identify what was life-giving and what was life-draining. That clarity is HUGE. You'll notice I did not list the following (but they all also happened): hurt feelings, miscommunication, personal growth, continued grief, strained conversations, burnout, apathy, frustration, disdain, regret, fear, hopelessness, anger, and anxiety. While I am not listing those publicly, they are named on my heart and mind. Thanks to counseling, I am trying not to wear them inside my body (The Body Keeps The Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD). I am intentionally working to process and let go as I go instead of swallowing or shoving it down, or worse- spewing it out. This is hard work. This is a big deal. So I encourage you as we wrap up 2021 and enter 2022, to sit down and block off a good 30 minutes to yourself. Scroll through your planner or your Google Calendar or your Facebook pictures and think about the past 12 months. What felt good? What felt icky? Who gave you energy when you were around them? Who made you feel bad about yourself? What habits added to your life? What subtracted? Look at your screen time averages on your phone. Maybe set a goal to lower those. A fellow blogger in my writer's group wrote a piece about our children remembering us looking at our phones instead of looking at their faces. LET THAT SINK IN FOR A MINUTE. I may write a piece about goal-setting and planning for the year ahead, but I would be a sham if I told you I set any goals for 2021. I didn't even know I would start writing this year. This nudge just got so big in July that I just started (oh yeah, I forgot our trip to Birmingham this summer). I was in a hotel room in Birmingham with keyed-up pre-teens, a snoring husband (love you babe), and a laptop staring at me. I had to process all this STUFF and it just started. So just start. Even if you only take the next 2-5 minutes to reflect on 2021. I beg of you to do it. So many of us are just sleepwalking through life. Work. Supper. Kids. TV. Bed. Repeat. Weekend. And repeat again. Let us all try some self-evaluation, life-evaluation, emotional-evaluation. What is life-giving and what is life-draining? What brings you joy? The only person keeping me from writing was ME. What will YOU allow yourself to do in 2022? Godspeed. I have been waking up before 5 AM consistently for 11 years. It started with necessity, nursing my child before work, but it continued for several reasons. When my firstborn was an infant, my stepson was eight. This meant I had to be stealthfully quiet as I woke the baby, fed him, spent some time with him, and then passed him to his daddy while I showered and dressed for work. It was a time before AirPods, and before I had discovered podcasts or Audible. Facebook was barely a thing. And phones in general were just not attached to everyone’s hands like they are today. It was in these near silent moments without technology, with only a cuddly warm baby in my lap, that I discovered the true meaning of quiet contentment. Just me, rocking my baby boy guided only by the white noise sound machine and gentle soft lighting. I wasn’t scrolling. I wasn’t comparing. I wasn’t wishing, nor was I regretting. There was no self-loathing. My job had not even adopted an electronic medical record yet, so working from home was not possible. I wasn’t paying bills from a little icon on my phone. I didn’t have 400 emails in my inbox, or at least I didn’t know that I had them. Just quiet. Just peaceful. Just two humans bound by DNA and love and touch and time. Fast forward to 2021 and that baby is in sixth grade. My stepson has left the nest and is thriving, and my youngest son is in fourth grade. My alarm still goes off at 4:30 AM, but I am alone. Yes, the house is still quiet like it was back then. The lights are still low. But things have changed. There is a technological miracle that fits in the palm of my hand now. It is full of red dots that quicken my pulse. There is a slick, silver, almost paper-thin computer that is full of lab results and refill requests and exam notes to finish. Now I know that I have 400 emails in my inbox. There are all these little icons in my hand that tell me I’m not good enough when I open them. There are ads everywhere that seem to call my digital wallet’s name. What happened to those early morning quiet moments? My eyes fill with tears as I type this. Yes, most mornings I participate in healthy self care such as prayer, Journaling, or mindfulness... but let’s be honest. If I choose to pick up this Fair-weather friend that follows me everywhere, I disappear. Those quiet peaceful moments disappear. I am not touching anyone. I am not gazing at someone I love and enjoying that feeling of togetherness and connection. This quiet house? Well it’s telling me it needs to be dusted and decorated. Those sleeping children? They need agendas signed and class party treats sent in and uniforms washed and clarinet reeds ordered. My husband may or may not be at work, but if he is did I reach out to him? And if he’s home, did I reach out to him? Oh wait- there goes my timer. Time to hop in the shower, put the bacon in the oven, get those boys up and moving. There goes my heart rate rising with each deadline and inbox item that crosses my mind. Oh, yes, I’m productive. I’m organized. Just ask all my friends and family. But is that the legacy I want to leave? ‘ She is so efficient. She can get it all done. Tears in my eyes again, geez. I would rather be known as Amy that helped me. Amy that loved me. Amy that made me feel important. Amy that I could count on. But most of all, Amy that I knew inside and out- between the lines and in the trenches. You see, getting it all done can be quite lonely. Have I been so busy getting it all done that I forgot to connect? Constantly looking at this lit up master that fits in my hand honestly makes me feel like crap. Yes- there are laughs and good reads hopefully like this one. There’s my longtime friend’s child or grandchild. The books and music and podcasts usually add instead of subtract. But all those red dots? I hate them. They steal little tiny pieces of me and I can’t really explain it. My children won’t know a world without the red dots, and that makes me sad. So here I am, on a rainy Wednesday morning, now voice-texting into this devilish device to create this message. I think it is a message for myself more than anything. Gosh these stupid tears. What is going on? I need to rewind. I need to go back. Back to the quiet simple peaceful mornings. I need to let go. I need to reach out even more than I need to let go. Who is with me? A fantastic human I call my friend gifted me with this poem this week. She didn't write it, but she knew I needed it. And now, I gift it to you. ☀️ safire-rose.com/books-and-media/poetry/she-let-go Motherhood. It sounds official, important, and majestic. And IT IS. BUT - motherhood - being a MOTHER - is a constant, daily, exhausting, never-ending, rollercoaster of a job that has zero degrees or certifications as preparation and the measuring stick seems to move daily. Who is measuring? My boys? The world? My husband? Social media? The boys' future therapists? ME? Let all that soak in for a few moments and then we will dig into this crazy ride called motherhood. Being a mother is definitely my greatest JOY in life. I have wanted to be a mom since I was a very young girl setting up mock classrooms in my garage for neighborhood children (#truestory) and naming my children in big bubble letters in my third-grade spiral notebook. I babysat my entire neighborhood it seemed, and I was going to be a mom as soon as I got married and worked 2 years as a nurse. I would be 24 and my life would be perfect. Then life happened. For lots of reasons, and over many years, I thought motherhood was not in the cards for me. I was devastated. I wasn't sure what life would be without ME being a mom. I was destined to be a mother, right? That was the PLAN. I live by and stick to the PLAN. Fast-forward to age 34 and my first baby boy was born screaming, dreaming, and wild, and he hasn't stopped any of those yet! His 8 year old brother was waiting on him in the waiting room bursting with excitement. 2 years later, God gave me the sweetest, big-hearted, most mellow fellow in the universe and God's plans for me and my motherhood journey were complete. All those nights I looked to the starlit heavens with tears in my eyes wondering when it would be my turn ended. All those Happy Mother's Day cards and texts I sent out with awkward responses like "um, thank you- hope you have a good day too" were over. Some women may say motherhood doesn't define them or isn't their purpose. I do love other things. I enjoy hobbies and my career and a good live band or a breeze on a boat. I will sit on any cabin deck in the mountains and drink any cup of coffee if it's made right. But being a mother is and will always be my MOST IMPORTANT JOB. And every time I look at my green-eyed boy with the world's longest eyelashes acting on stage, or admire the kind, responsible young man my step-son has become, or listen to my big-blue-eyed baby boy tell me how he wants to help someone in need, the world drifts away. Nothing else matters. If I had never made a proper diagnosis, helped someone who was in pain, or received any trophy, plaque, or ribbon for my efforts, I would be just fine. My real work is being done every single day and will continue until I leave this Earth. Those 3 boys are my purpose in life. Thank you, Jesus, for answering my prayers in Your way on Your time. HERE ARE 14 LESSONS I LEARNED IN MY FIRST DECADE OF MOTHERHOOD. I'M NOW IN MY SECOND DECADE, BUT I'VE HAD MOST OF THESE DOWN FOR A LITTLE WHILE NOW.
I think each of these lessons deserves a little more detail. I really had no trouble thinking of these, since they have honestly been LESSONS LEARNED. These are all things I literally did not know until I knew. And what you don't know, well... it's just better that you know these. 🤷♀️
My own mother told me many years ago that motherhood would be both the hardest and the MOST IMPORTANT job I would ever have. She has never been a step-mother. She has never been through a divorce and tried to navigate a second marriage with a man who was also navigating a second marriage. She has what some might call a wonderful, life-long, high-school-sweetheart partnership that is still going strong over 50 years later. She had 2 smart kids who were active in sports and music and for the most part well-behaved. She wasn't working as a nurse practitioner bringing work home every night, and she wasn't commuting over 8 hours every week. And she still said it was the hardest. And the most important. Odds are that I don't know you. I don't know how many people live in your house or what kind of childhood you had. I don't know how many times you've been hurt or who exactly caused your pain. I don't know how demanding your job is or if you even work outside the home. I don't know if you struggled to get pregnant or if you have more children than you ever intended. Your family may be blended or straight out of Southern Living. It doesn't matter. If you're reading this, you are most likely a parent, probably a female, and if I were a betting woman, I would bet you are exhausted. You are overwhelmed. You are lonely. You are bored if we are being 100% honest. You are under-appreciated and overworked. And you wanted to know you're not alone. I declare from my Georgia basement with my ice-pack on my already-arthritic knee, you are NOT alone. I am with you. My own mama with her cookie cutter textbook family was with you and is still with you. This is hard work. And it's WORTH IT. I hope this article brought you some comfort, whimsy, new ideas, or peace. Just remember wherever you are, I am with you. I'm only halfway to 18 on my youngest, so we can hang out for quite a while yet. 🤪 Godspeed. Please help support my fellow hope*writers' work by reading their posts using the prompt word "fourteen"... :
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: 14 Things I Love About the Holidays by Jessica Weaver www.rootedunrooted.com/blog/the-most-wonderful-time-of-the-year 14 Truths about Love by Sharla Hallett www.sharlahallett.com/14-truths-about-love/ Fourteen Adjectives to Cultivate in Kids by Jessica Haberman https://storytellerfarm.com/fourteen-adjectives-to-cultivate-in-kids/ 14 Parenting Tips to Raise Strong, Independent Kids by Ashley Olivine https://louvaria.com/14-parenting-tips/ I see it every year. It starts around the first week of November and it lasts through the middle of January. The holiday blues. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve actually slowed down enough to think about trends in my practice. Sure there is an actual diagnosis of seasonal affective disorder, but this is different. This is deeper. This is hard. And here’s how I see it every day for two months straight in my exam rooms: Me: Hey Mrs. Jones - it is so good to see you. I know we had to zoom for our last visit. What’s new in your life? Are you ready for Christmas? Do you have to cook for Thanksgiving? Are y’all going anywhere? Mrs Jones: oh you know, I will be cooking for the family for Thanksgiving. And the children and the grandchildren may stop by for Christmas. No... I don’t go anywhere. I’m ready as I’ll ever be. Blank stare. Obvious reflection. Anyway how are your boys? Are they ready for Christmas? Do you have to cook for Thanksgiving? Me: oh yes I will be making my Mammaw’s dressing, sweet potato casserole from an old Birmingham recipe from one of my mother’s friend’s mothers, my layered salad that a nurse I used to work with taught me how to make. Gosh that was over 25 years ago now. Blank stare. Obvious reflection. Daddy will fry the turkey and my husband will fix the ham and a peanut butter pie. Mama will make the deviled eggs and the Waldorf salad. I will make my mother-in-law‘s corn bean casserole and some homemade mashed potatoes. Of course we will have rolls and cranberry sauce. Another blank stare. I haven’t seen my mother-in-law in over five years. The boys? Oh yes, they are more than ready for Christmas. We got them a matchbox Advent calendar they can’t wait to get started on. They’re growing up so fast. Blank stare. Obvious reflection. The oldest will be home from the Air Force. He and his girlfriend will be together the whole time I’m sure. I smile. But I’m nearly in tears. What is going on? And we sit for a moment. Two women born of different decades and sometimes different skin colors who have lived two very different lives at the outsider’s glance, but are so alike on the inside that it’s haunting. Her daughter is sitting beside her. They look and act so much alike it makes me smile from the inside out. I’m sure that’s what people say when they see me with my mother. I don’t have a daughter. Will my boys take care of me? Alright, get it together Amy. We finish out our actual medical visit and say our go-to goodbyes: Happy Holidays. Y’all be safe. Call me if you need me. And now, after ALL these years, I often hear “you know I love you.” And I believe it’s true. It’s not forced. It’s been earned. Is it against the rules? No, not my rules it’s not. Truth be told, I love her too. Maybe because I see myself in her and I’m cheering for myself in my old age. I’m giving myself a head start and saving myself a seat. I’ve practiced in Kentucky and in Georgia. I worked in a nursing home for six years and then made rounds as a nurse practitioner in that very same nursing home. I’m an old soul myself so I think I draw my elderly patients in and they stick. I stick to them too, and I think they know it. I’ve had so many Mrs. Jones over my 17 years. I’ve had Mr. Jones and Little Johnny Jones or Little Sally Jones as well, but I am so connected to Mrs. Jones that I can almost finish her sentence. Now I’m driving home and this 2 Lane Highway surrounded by trees and cows and horses makes me feel like I could be in any of the four states I’ve lived. It’s familiar and so are these thoughts. I’m a little girl in my childhood home with my brother and my parents and we just came home from candlelight Christmas Eve service and mama made lasagna. I haven’t really been hurt yet. I don’t know what it feels like to love somebody besides my family. I feel safe and secure and like I can do anything in this world. How did Mrs. Jones feel at this age? How did you feel at 10 years old? Now I’m driving home from Tuscaloosa with Delta Zeta on my back windshield. My finals are over. I get to see my boyfriend. I’m taking pre-med classes as well as a full nursing load, but I’ve been hurt by now. I’ve been disappointed and lied to by some people I trusted. But it’s the holidays you see, and I still feel like I’ve got a handle on things. I wonder what Mrs. Jones was doing at 20 years old? Had you been hurt by then? Oh wow. I didn’t really see this coming. Or did I? I’m sitting alone in my first marital home. Half my furniture is gone. Someone I love deeply told me I don't really need a Christmas tree this year because "it's just you." Am I not enough for a tree? Who am I by myself anyway? I’m driving to Georgia for Christmas. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sad in my life. I wonder what Mrs. Jones was doing when she was 30 years old? Was her heart broken like mine? Was yours? Gather around now. It’s time to eat. My baby boy is four years old and can’t seem to stop smiling. God gave him to me for sure. The first one I carried is six and almost as smart as I am. The one I didn’t carry but I’ve fed and loved now for seven years is sitting right next to me. Is he thinking about his mama? Will he ever see her again? Tiny pieces of my heart crumble for him. I just started taking prednisone for an incurable autoimmune disease I had to look up on the Internet. Lord have mercy and I really do mean "please Lord have some mercy." I’m only about 3 1/2 weeks into a lifelong diagnosis and I don’t know what the future holds. I’m scared. I’m sad. Merry Christmas y’all. It’s the holidays, right? I wonder how old Mrs. Jones was when she first questioned her mortality? How old were you? Were you 40 years old like me with a child in pre-K, one in first grade, and one silently falling apart right in front of you? You see that’s what the holiday blues are. They are every heartbreak and broken promise. They are all the fears and all the lost relationships. They are that empty seat at the table. The phone that barely rings. They are the one that got away and the one that stayed too long. They are your mother, your father, and your children. They are every husband you’ve ever had. How can they not be? We can’t erase our memories. I don’t have a cure for the holiday blues. I think they’re part of life. Mrs. Jones might tell me they get better with each decade or she might tell me they grow and take up more space than we should allow. I’m scared to ask her. None of us even talk about it really. We just say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, y’all be safe. So this is my letter to you at age 45. Some heartaches of mine have healed and some are still there. I don’t think we should only remember the good times because that’s not what made us. It’s certainly not what made me today sitting right here baring my soul and giving you the permission to bare yours. Acknowledge the things that built you. Godspeed. This goes out to every Mrs. Jones that has ever allowed me to know her. She is me and I am her. And I thank God for that. We all have basic human needs as individuals. Most of us would agree that we need food, sleep, and water and some agree we need love and friendship. I would venture to guess that beyond those basic needs, many people are sleep-walking through life without ever giving pause to what THEY or WE actually need from each other. Lots of therapy has helped me realize that other people in my life don't automatically KNOW what I need or expect from them. I must let them know what I need. I have also come to realize that no ONE person in my life could possibly fill or meet all of my needs. It is humanly impossible to meet all the needs of another human by oneself. It truly does take a village. Once we have identified our needs, we can start to look at the players on our team and realize who is filling which need in our life. Some fill multiple needs. Others fill one need or don't fill a need at all, but instead may be causing stress or toxicity. Perhaps "trimming the fat" is in order when it comes to our circle of loved ones. I have also learned that not all of us are CAPABLE or WILLING to meet certain needs of others, and that too can be a painful process of acceptance and growth. So, let's roll up our sleeves and look closely at the basic human needs of each person roaming around this earth. Let us make a list of the members of our circle and try to identify who fills which need(s). There are several reasons this is important:
This is real adulting. Grown up stuff. Hard stuff. Deep stuff. So get ready. photo credit: childhoodtraumarecovery.com Let us look at Maslow's hierarchy of needs from a current-day real-life perspective and add the context of relationships and connection to those needs:
I don't have many patients that walk into my office and tell me they have needs. Instead, they tell me they are sad. They are withdrawing from friends or family. They can't sleep. They don't feel good. The have mood swings or anger outbursts. They are no longer excited about life. Medication cannot "fix" some of these painful circumstances we are all facing in our lives. An SSRI (most commonly used class of anti-depressants) cannot make your spouse SEE you or try to meet your needs. It cannot heal decade-old wounds from your narcissistic mother. It cannot jump into your best friend's mind and tell her that she is hurting you with her words or actions. Nor can it walk into your adult child's house and announce that YOU are a person, too, and that you need love and respect. So many of these issues have been around so long in your life that you don't know where to begin to address them. I encourage you to seek counseling if and when you can. A good therapist really can change your life. In the meantime, write down YOUR needs. List what needs are being met and which are not being met. Jot down WHO is helping to meet those needs and make a mental note of who you really can count on in which needs department. Use your resources - your people - when you are in crisis. Learn to NOT go to the ones who have not or cannot meet certain needs so that you avoid further hurt and disappointment. And consider having a conversation with your loved one if the opportunity ever arises and the setting and timing are conducive to growth. We cannot read minds, and we are all flawed. This relationship and self-evaluation work isn't easy, but it is worth it. Godspeed. A popular book in the field of marriage and relationships is Gary Chapman's The Five Love Languages. In his book, Dr. Chapman discusses the five core languages used to give and receive love. Knowing your love language and that of your partner is quite beneficial as you navigate various scenarios and frustrations throughout your relationship. I will link the quiz below. The 5 Love Languages according to Dr. Chapman are:
Originally written in 2004, the book has now sold over 6 million copies. I read it when it was originally released, and I read it again when I remarried. I knew the importance of speaking the same love language (or at least being aware of my partner's love language) . I think it is helpful to know your close friends' love language and the language of your children or other close family members. If you are not familiar with the concept, I will use this brief example: Amy (acts of service, physical touch): " I am so tired. Ugghh I have so much to do. I don't know how I'm going to get it all done." Husband thinking to himself (words of affirmation, quality time): Amy is so tired. She should go to bed. Maybe if I keep encouraging her to go to bed, she will. Amy thinking to herself: If he would fold this laundry, then maybe I could go to bed. But instead he's just telling me I should go to bed. Husband thinking to himself: Why is she folding that laundry when she is so tired? If I offer to fold the laundry, she may lash out at me since she's so tired, and (needing words of affirmation) that would ruin the night, so I will just stay with her (quality time) and gently encourage her to go to bed. Amy fuming at this point (acts of service, physical touch): If he's not going to fold the laundry, he could at least rub my back. Then maybe I could relax enough to go to bed. But husband doesn't rub my back because he wants the words of affirmation and reassurance to do so and the spiral continues. Neither spouse did anything WRONG, but remembering each other's love language might have made for a much more pleasant evening. Pleasant evenings bleed into smooth mornings and so forth. This example is just one of many. It can apply to family, friends, coworkers. You may be trying to show appreciation with a gift or money but they WANT / NEED to hear you say why you appreciate them. They may be doing all the little chores and acts of service to get your attention, but you WANT / NEED them to stop running around and spend the afternoon with you without any distractions. It really is fascinating once you know the love language of your partner or best friends. You can spend an entire afternoon dissecting why one situation went south based on love language miscommunication alone. But back to PHYSICAL TOUCH, I think this love language is often overlooked and misunderstood. For obvious reasons, it's viewed with caution, and while that is good... it is also robbing us of a basic human need. With the surge of technology and virtual everything, many of us go days or weeks without touching another human, particularly these last 2 years. Throughout my career, I have used touch as a means to reassure and connect with my patients. Since I received touch as a child and infant in a safe, healthy environment, I have been able to give touch easily. I know that is not true for everyone I encounter, and I acknowledge that. Here are some ways I have used touch in my practice:
Here are some ways I have used touch in my home with my children:
My challenge to you, wherever you are, however old you are, whatever childhood you had, whatever love language you prefer, however many times you've been hurt, is to THINK about physical touch in the setting of a newborn baby. I have linked an article below touting the science behind touch and neurological growth and development. If you're old enough to find this article, then you have been a child yourself. You may have children or be involved in a child's life. We all know that a crying baby or toddler is often soothed by the touch of a loved one or caregiver. Animals are the same way. I dare say, adults are ALSO the same way. If you love someone (your child, your partner, your mother, your close friend), touch them. HUG them. Incorporate safe and healthy touch into your daily routine. We have grown generations of adults now who are not used to being touched. Those untouched adults are now having more untouched children. Those untouched children are looking for affection in ways that a simple "cuddle session" (what we call it at our house) may have averted. It saddens me when I shake a teenager's limp and nervous hand or attempt an appropriate side-hug with someone and am greeted with surfboard-stiff awkwardness. I see the physical and emotional effects of the untouched in my office each week, and it breaks my heart. Pat Harris was my first grade teacher. She had a Hug-Me-Spot right by the door to her classroom. No student could enter her room in the morning or leave her room in the afternoon without hugging Miss Harris on the Hug-Me-Spot. This world needs a Hug-Me-Spot. This world needs an army of Miss Harrises. The rules and restrictions have created a generation of kids that don't know what touch is actually appropriate, and adults that are too glued to their phones to use their hands to rub their child's back or snuggle on the couch. These touch-starved kids marry each other and are LONELY and starving for affection that was never modeled for them. And here we are. I challenge you to touch someone today. And tomorrow. And the next day. Hug. Cuddle. Kiss your partner. Squeeze your child. Hold hands. Make touch a part of your day every day. We may really change the world. 🌎 Let's try it. ☀️ Godspeed. Hey, I know you. I share a bed, a remote, and a living room with you. I ride in the front seat with you. I talk to you numerous times a day about kids and groceries and logistics. I know how you take your coffee and what you like on your pizza. But, do I know you right now, at this very moment, 12 years in, more or less than I did say 10 years ago? BEFORE our conversations revolved around schedules and pickups and homework. I know I have changed in the last 12 years. Surely you have as well? Have I asked? Have I noticed? Have you seen the changes in me? Have you noticed? Are we giving each other what we need? (my therapist is ALWAYS in my ear- "tell them what you NEED Amy! tell that person what you NEED.") Every year we try to take a trip sans kiddos to regroup, reconnect, unplug, and just have fun together. It is a WORTHY investment (time and money) in a marriage or relationship. Parenting is hard! Adulting is hard! Marriage is hard! Sure, some people make it look easy, but let's leave them out of it and talk about the real work that staying married involves. We usually try some "games" or conversation starters to break our habit of only talking about our kids, our jobs, or our day-to-day frustrations. Sometimes we play "would you rather?". Here are some of the ones we asked this last date night:
Wait, what just happened? We soon realized that the frivolous conversations led to deeper ones and that was the eventual goal anyway, BUT had we ever really talked about any of these things? We have not crossed into some of those territories personally, but we have witnessed other loved ones facing different challenges. Those various challenges have seemed more frequent as we age, or perhaps our reservoirs of empathy grow deeper with maturity and life experience. To be quite frank, husband and I had not attended many funerals together prior to the last 2-3 years. We were busy attending weddings or baby showers. That dress with heels and coat and tie now have a different destination it seems. And so it goes. This weekend we've discussed our future grandparent names, how we picture retirement for each of us individually as well as together, and trips we plan to take. We have discussed aging parents and various family caregiving scenarios. Our first few "just us" getaways involved naps and recovery from pure exhaustion and planning out toddler birthday parties, Halloween costume ideas, or Santa ideas. Now we are brainstorming passive income ideas, retirement goals, and our own personal dreams and desires. We are transforming, both together and separately, from Mom & Dad, to 2 people with our own passions, fears, and personal insecurities. I am by no means a marriage expert.
I have seen a beautiful example of marriage in my parents and some of my other family members. Husband and I have each had a failed marriage prior to this one, so we know how painful divorce is and we are each way too stubborn to go down without a fight. I'm not writing this as a beacon of marital bliss, but rather as a tired working mom in the thick of motherhood, menopause, and midlife (try having kids in your mid-30's) 😜. I am writing this as an imperfect, hard-to-please, bleeding-heart woman married to an imperfect, hard-headed, scared-of-abandonment man that didn't see the example of marriage that I saw growing up. We are actually two scared-of-being-vulnerable humans bound together by beautiful boys and God, fate, the universe - but we, too, are still trying to figure it all out. If you find yourself still figuring it all out, it's OKAY. Stay the course. My Uncle Don told me one time many years ago, "Amy, you know how to stay married, right? long pause. You just never leave. Neither of you. You stay and you don't leave." Time and space apart can sometimes be good for a marriage. They can allow room to think and heal. But time TOGETHER has been our best strategy. Make your marriage a priority. Make your spouse a priority. He or she is a worthy investment. You can read all the books and try all the counseling, but sometimes you just need TIME together and conversations that bring you closer than you thought you might ever be. Godspeed. What's in a name? I have been married twice. I dated my first husband six years before we got married, and we were married 7 years. We didn't have any children. I've been married to my current husband for 12 years now and we have raised 3 children together. My step-son was 7 when we got married (19 now and out of the house), and our boys are 9 and 11. What is bizarre is that neither of my husbands have a very close relationship with their fathers. In fact, I have never met either of their fathers. To take that even further, I have never met a SINGLE person on either of their father's side of the family. So... to put that into practical terms, I have had a last name for 19 of my 45 years that really had no "meaning" to me. My first husband was the only "Smith" (not his name, but just using as an example) I knew but then I carried that name. My second husband is the only Cobb I know other than our 3 children. Let that sink in for a moment. This has made for some very awkward life moments:
Since I'm really into family in general, and I love old family names and family history, I bought my parents an Ancestry.com kit for Mother's or Father's Day one year. I also bought one for myself and my husband. I love looking back at all of our relatives and heritage, but building my husband's family tree has been difficult. This has led me into some deep thought (doesn't take much for me to go deep 😜).
In my opinion, a name carries weight. Identity matters. Having always worked in the medical field, my name is something I sign every single day. I prescribe medicine so it appears on prescription bottles and insurance claims and lab and imaging orders. Nurses answer the phone "Amy Cobb's office, how may I help you?" I am listed as a primary care provider for about 2000 people. I don't mention this as if I am anything special. I most certainly am not. But do I feel odd having a last name plastered all over HealthGrades and pill bottles when I have no physical, emotional, or spiritual connection to the name? Yes, I am married to a Cobb. But what makes him a "Cobb?" I can't grin at my husband and say "you laugh just like your daddy." I can't look at my boys and tell them they have the Cobb nose or the Cobb stubborn streak. I can't say "boys, your grandfather would have loved to see you hit that ball, march that field, fix that jet." I don't know any Cobb recipes or Cobb traditions. I don't know if or where they went to church, what music they loved, or how they earned a living. And so again, is this how fatherless children feel? What about the motherless child? Is it the name that carries the weight or the connection itself with a parent, a heritage, a history? For my adopted friends and patients, what does their adopted name mean to them? Is it a name filled with love, hope, and acceptance or is it a daily reminder of what could have been and what may never be? Not knowing anyone else with my name is a first-world problem. I realize that. But it is a thing. I'm learning to acknowledge my "things." I'm learning to feel those feelings, name what's missing or hurting, and process what thoughts can do to my body. Is this shame I am feeling? Regret? Did I even do anything wrong? Who is to blame - or is blame even required? Another ebb and flow in the circle of life, the jagged bonds of connectedness that barely keep us together - sometimes by one single strand of a lineage. I reached out to my writing group to see if any adopted writers had a perspective about the meaning of a name. Ann C. Averill wrote a beautiful piece about her experience with her name, and I am happy to feature it as a guest post on 10/12/21. Thank you, Ann, for your bravery and vulnerability to share with my readers. ❤️
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