Lessons Rereading Books from my Childhood

On a whim, I started re-reading some of the books I remembered from my childhood. I just finished Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli.

I honestly didn't remember much about the book. I remembered that Maniac was an orphan and homeless, and that he ran...a lot, and I remember the character Mars Bar, but only for his name. That's about it. I remembered almost nothing about the plot. After all these years, what I remember most, is not what happened in the book, but how the book made me feel. I remember sadness and triumph, and that feeling of magic and fulfillment at the last page, when you think, "Yes, this is how the story ends," and yet it doesn't really end, because those feelings stay with you.

It was a joy rereading it as an adult. I could see what fascinated me as a child and also better appreciate and grasp its many redeeming qualities, like the magical realism, the themes of separation and belonging, of race and family, and the subtle but perfect narration.

I was a slow reader as a kid. It wasn't till second grade that my parents and teachers realized I needed glasses because in elementary school they only tested for near-sightedness, and I'm far-sighted. I had trouble looking at a page right in front of me. I would have to close one eye, and use my finger to read the words, because I also had tracking problems (my eyes would skip to the next line before I was finished reading the first.) I remember being frustrated in school, and anxious whenever we had to read something to ourselves in class. I almost never could finish the paragraph or passage within the time the teacher gave us to read it. The pressure of having to read something within a time constraint made me anxious and also embarrassed. I learned how to fake it. I would read the comprehension questions first and then go back and skim through the paragraph just to find the answer. I had to do this, otherwise there was no way I would finish. When we had to read a paragraph in class and then answer questions out loud, I just prayed the teacher wouldn't call on me, as I continued to try and read without her noticing.

But I liked reading for myself. I liked curling up in my room and delving into a story at my own pace. Eventually, armed with my new glasses, I was able to like reading in school too, or at least be able to do it without the anxiety, because the more I read, the faster I got.

All of this is to say, that at seven years old as I squinted to see the chalkboard, I would have never imagined that I would get a degree in English and be working on writing my own books. It's good to look back and see how far we've come. We can't change the past, but we can appreciate it in a new way, just like rereading a childhood book as an adult. It gives me inspiration too,  knowing that even now when I feel stuck or frustrated, I just might not be able to see where I will be ten or twenty years down the road. One day at a time.

Little Reminders

There is something immediately inspiring and terrifying about getting good advice.

I recently participated in a webinar hosted by the fabulous Book Doctors, a course offered to NaNoWriMo participants. So much of what they said made me want to stop everything and pound the keys--get back to work on editing my novel. I felt inspired.

Alas, when I actually did sit down with it, the imperfections were now magnified into elephants and the enormity of the task in front of me unfurled in a moment of terror and disillusionment.

We are strange creatures, artists. There is always this battle of striving for perfection against the feelings of self-doubt.

At one point during the webinar, David Henry Sterry said, he sometimes does something like 70 edits for a book. What?! On the one hand, it's easy to feel dwarfed by that number...here I am on my first...

On the other, it reminds me that no matter how much of a professional, no matter how many books you've written, we all start with the same rough, gnarly, barely readable draft, that must be polished into something beautiful. It may not be easy, or fast, but there is a clear process, there are footpaths to follow through the darkness.

At a recent trip to Barnes and Noble, I browsed the journal section for a new companion:

Oh Hello, Universe, thanks for the reminder...

After I got home and opened it up, I found an extra little surprise on the inside cover.

"You are the Sunshine_____ Be Proud! You have helped us donate 240,000 workbooks and 44,000 pens to children around the world. Ecojot is paper with a cause, sustainable, B-certified and made in Canada. B the change."

Lovely! A Ralph Waldo Emerson quote has never steered me wrong.

Did a third edit of my entire first chapter this morning, and my new journal will accompany me to my SCBWI writer's conference this weekend!

My blog is SO last year!

My blog has been stuck in 2013! Sorry about that. The first month of the new year has felt a little like trying to pull myself out of bed at 8am after that New Years Eve Party.... or for a more appropriate metaphor: after my five year old has a nightmare and wets the bed at 1, and my two year old wakes up at 3 afraid of the dark and climbs into my bed. The rest of the night spent being kicked and trying not to fall off the bed without waking anyone else. Pick your poison.

Well it's almost the end of January and I'm just now gaining some momentum. It's the tortoise not the hare right?

The past few years I have not made a New Year's Resolution, or at least not in the typical sense. Last year, I decided to do a One Word Resolution, to encompass the general spirit I felt I wanted to carry into the year. Last year my word was CREATE. I had a lot of beginnings last year, beginnings of projects and ideas to work on, but also figuring out the blueprint for practical things like, where to live (buy a house)?

This year, my word is: COURAGE

I'm not a visual artist. Cut me some slack.
I do enjoy crayons and glitter, and symbolism, lots of symbolism.

I feel good about the things I created last year, but this year will be about taking the next step and seeing them through. I have said before that I am really good at starting projects but not so great at finishing them! So, for me, it will take courage to face the obstacles that get thrown in my path, especially my own fears of failure and stretching my comfort zone.

I already have one big ticket item I can check off, before 2013 ended I signed myself up for a writer's conference, and it's coming up at the end of February (ahh!! so scared, and excited, but scared...more on that later), and I'm taking everything else one step at a time.

I am not a planner in general, I don't like to make long detailed lists, but I do like to have a direction, and a motto or mantra to embody that helps me move where I want to go.

Do you have a word, motto, mantra, or resolution for the year? Are you still rubbing the sleep from your eyes?

Unroll the mat

The other morning I came out to find my yoga mat rolled out on the kitchen floor. No doubt my four year old had gotten it out for some game or experiment. As I waited for my coffee to brew, I stretched out into downward dog. It felt good, though my muscles were tight and my arms a bit wobbly. I've been neglecting my yoga practice. For several weeks now I've been feeling the effects on my body, knowing that I should start again, knowing how much a regular practice helps me not only physically but mentally and spiritually. So why did it take this long to get back there?

Sometimes the hardest part is unrolling the mat.

I've been having writer's block lately too, as evidenced by the length between now and my last post. There are lots of methods and tips out there, but again, the hardest part is opening the notebook or turning on the computer. The first word on a blank page is rarely as scary as the idea of it. I've come to accept that there is no cure, only choices. Even if I write one sentence, because I made the choice to begin, that choice gives me power, and it's one sentence more than when I started! It's not always chronological steps (1, 2, 3), but a series of firsts, over and over.

Unroll the mat, write the first word, take the first step.

Then, do it again tomorrow.

Art Therapy

Today I felt defeated before I even began.

I've been tired lately. Not just mom-with-two-kids tired. My MIND has been tired. I haven't had the motivation to do anything, and with my physical state of regular-mom-tired, it pushed me into a state only once removed from "walking zombie". 

I felt like I had been in a fog that I just couldn't see the end of. Everywhere I turned, all I could see were things that discouraged me; dirty dishes in the sink, a carpet that needed to be vacuumed, a to-do-list that never gets crossed off, my writing notebook waiting to be opened. I actually sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor for a few minutes, feeling like I couldn't take another step, couldn't look at anything else.

My toddler came over and gave me a hug. :::oh!:: That gave me just enough motivation to make some coffee, which lifted my spirits, and my energy level a bit.

As I sat at the table trying to suck up every last drop of caffeine, my older son dumped out the art box all over the floor. I just watched, and let it roll off, I didn't care. The place was already a mess. I had given up. He took out some little foam cut-out pieces, found some paper and asked me to find the glue. 

I threw back the last sip and sat down to do some crafts, helping my toddler who wanted to play too. It was so cute watching them stick little moons and stars onto the paper, while naming the colors and shapes out loud.  I thought about how great it would be to have a "craft room" in our new house. A room where it didn't matter if you colored on the walls or dripped paint on the floor; where all their masterpieces could be on permanent display. Somehow, it was just what I needed. It flipped a switch, and just like that the fog was gone.

I still haven't had breakfast yet...but I feel like I can tackle the day now. The dishes in the sink don't feel so daunting, and I feel inspired to tackle that to-do-list. Maybe we'll break out the paints later, or I might even take the kids to Barnes and Noble (something my 4 year old has been begging me to do for weeks!). 

Who would have thought that some glue and foam shapes could make all the difference. The cute boys helped too...

Here's to the little things. They are actually the big things. :)

Do you hear what I hear?

Sometimes you wonder if your kids even listen to you at all.

like my son Miles. He has a little bit of a perfectionist complex. He has to do things a certain way, and everything has to go exactly according to his plan or it's melt down city. I've been dealing with this for about two years now. This is a kid who directs everything down to what everyone is supposed to say ("say, 'oh, I wonder what's in there!' say that Mama, say that!") and tells me where I'm supposed to hide during a game of hide and seek. Sometimes I do okay, I give him a speech about how things don't always have to be perfect, that we can still have fun even if it doesn't go the way we planned. Other times, I have a mini-meltdown of my own and I wonder if it's ever really going to sink in. God forbid someone cut his sandwich the wrong way or open the door before he does!

Maybe he'll grow out of it, but I can name more than a few adults who have this same problem, and this is one thing I don't want him to carry with him all his life. It's one thing to want to do your best, but it can be debilitating if done to excess.

The other day we visited with some old friends who have a five year old daughter. The dad is one of my husband's best friends, they used to play in a band together. We met them at his parents' house where there is still a full drum set in the basement. Miles now wants to have a band and be a "drummer for life!". The two kids were playing happily in the basement, banging on drums and singing into the microphone, until the little girl came stomping up the stairs and sat down at the table, arms crossed and a frown on her face. Miles followed quickly after. He went up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and said,

"I know it's hard when you want things to be perfect, but things don't always have to be perfect."

She was not convinced, although eventually she was able to get over whatever it was and get back to playing again.

But right there my heart did a back flip and landed in a split, pom poms waving. He's listening! It's actually sinking in!

Even though I might have to give the same speech a hundred more times without any indication that he "gets it", he does hear me.

Keep on talking, even if you think it'll never sink in. Patience works both ways.

Sticks and Stones

That rhyme may comfort a five year old, but I think a truer adage is:

"the pen is mightier than the sword"

Words are important. Emotional wounds cut so much deeper and last long after the physical pain is gone. Sometimes we put it away, thinking it is gone for good, only to find that there is still a splinter left there, and the farther we dig, the deeper down it goes, an endless cavity of hurt and betrayal.

What we say to each other, and how we say it, especially in the age of the internet where everything is recorded, matters.

a friend of mine posted some advice to writers awhile back that went something like this:

before you publish anything:
1. pray
2. read what you have written more than once and ask if what you have said can be interpreted or misunderstood in any way
3. edit
4. ask a trusted person to read it and ask for honest feedback
5. edit
6. pray some more
7. edit, edit, edit!
8. publish at your own risk

(these were not the exact words, I sort of made up my own version of how I remember it, but it's the basic gist.)

Once we put something out there it is no longer just yours. Our words are at the mercy of how others hear them, through the filter of their own experiences, judgments, and uniqueness. Still, we are responsible for whatever we are putting out into the universe. Our words have the power to give great healing and comfort, but also to cause pain and destruction.

You can't please everyone all of the time, and you'd be doomed to make your writing depend on what others thought. But by checking our own motivations we can stand by our words knowing that we have acted with a heart of love and integrity. Then, when criticism comes, we are like a tree that does not break, but sways in the storm.

They Call it Stormy Monday

It sure is! We woke up to a thunderstorm this morning, and now the lovely cool air is blowing through my open windows.

Miles is at school, Skylar is napping, and I'm enjoying some coffee. These moments of solitude are precious and brief. I sometimes have a hard time deciding how to spend them. Like most people, especially moms, I have a list of things I could and should be doing, but not nearly enough time to do it in. Some days I have enough energy to do the load of laundry, work on some freelance, clean up the kitchen, and do some yoga.

But most days I can only do one, two if I'm lucky. Something always falls by the wayside. And many times, what I really need is a nap, in which case I don't get anything done (not that a nap is a waste of time...oh precious nap time, it's been too long...).

It may not seem like a big deal, but the little choices we make, like how to spend our free time, can add up and effect the whole day.

I know that I feel better when I do some yoga, take a nap, or work on something creative. Yet, sometimes all I want to do is veg out in front of the TV. Cleaning too, even though it's necessary, often becomes busy work for me, a way to avoid the other stuff. It's mindless and easy, just like TV. It doesn't require me to tune into myself and be present.

Why is it so hard to do the things we know are good for us? Why do we have to push ourselves to go to the gym, or work on a project that we're really passionate about?

Maybe it's partly the fear of failure, and partly the comfort of the normal routine. Most people don't live in a constant state of zen, where we are in tune with our bodies and spirit. In order to do the things we know are good for us, like exercise or meditate, it takes work to change our state of mind and being. We have to make a conscious effort to go inward and listen to what our body and our original mind is telling us.

The goal of course, is that if you do this long enough it becomes easier and eventually routine itself. But I have a suspicion that even then it's not the fantasy, magical state we might imagine. Because there is no such thing as arriving, there is no destination, only the journey. There will always be hills to climb and storms to weather, practice just helps us climb faster and reminds us to bring our umbrella.

The best laid plans...survival guide for a sick day

Miles is sick today. The worst kind of sick, not so sick that he is sleeping all day, just sick enough to not go to school, be cranky all day, but still run around.

::sigh::

So much for grocery shopping, or any of the other plans I made for today. But that's just the way life is, especially as a parent. You have to be ready to let go and embrace whatever is thrown at you. Suddenly the baby doesn't want to take a morning nap?! aye...It's going to be a long one.

So today I will share my tips for getting through those days when it all gets thrown out the window. (I'll be checking back often to remind myself!)

1. Do something you've been procrastinating on- It always feels good to check something off the to-do list, even if it's not what you had originally planned. Today I'm going to make a call about a medical bill that I keep forgetting about.

2. Make a game out of cleaning up- If nothing else gets done, at least you have a clean house, and it keeps the kids busy for awhile if you get them involved in organizing the toys.

3. Treat yourself- Nothing like an extra cup of coffee or a fresh batch of chocolate chip muffins to keep you going.

4. Slow down- It's okay if you don't get the dishes done or the laundry folded. Errands can wait, even if it means eating ramen noodles for dinner. Today I will try to enjoy just snuggling and watching a movie (even if it's the one we've seen 100+ times).

5. The stand-bys- Lots of juice, chicken soup (heavy on the garlic!), and Tylenol (which sometimes has the extra benefit of sleepiness).

6. Go to bed early- Start the bedtime routine an hour or half hour earlier than normal. If you're lucky, you might just have some extra time in the evening for yourself...or some extra time for sleep from the exhausting day!

Anyone else have some good tips for the dreaded sick day?

Can I get a sick day?

Yesterday started out with all the makings of a great day. Miles woke up and climbed into our bed more gingerly than usual. He smiled and excitedly told us that he had had a good dream about playing "bad guys" with his best friend, and then proceeded to act it out. Miles had a field trip with his daycare, on a day that he is usually home so it was like a bonus day for me.

Ready to write, rest, and get a little work done around the house.

But then I started feeling the effects of the ever lingering cold I've been fighting. I decided I should take a nap before starting to write. So of course, Skylar decided he would only take 20 minutes for a morning nap. Up again, no writing, no nap. After picking up Miles from the field trip the day only got more exhausting. By bedtime I was ready to snap. I left the place a mess and just went to bed with the boys.

It's actually too perfect. Before all of the circumstances of the day, I had planned to write about a PBS documentary I watched the night before called, "Civilization". It chronicled the history of the great powers of the world and how they shifted over time. It started with 12th century China and went up to 20th century America and modern day. I was struck by how certain empires came to power and then just when they got comfortable and established, the tides started to shift and some other nation would rise up, often from out of the bleakest and most unlikely circumstances. It made me think about how it's easy to look at things in retrospect and see the clear path that leads to either greatness or defeat, but all we can do day by day, is try and learn from whatever past we already have, trust our gut and make an educated guess.

In many ways our lives are like the rise and fall of empires. None of them stays on top forever, everyone gets their turn, but it's not like those that fall are wiped off the map. The people of Imperial China remained and soldiered on, and now things are turning back around again with China emerging as one of the great super-powers of the world. Maybe these are just the natural tides of history, and of life. Sometimes we are on top, and sometimes we are down in the undertow, while we watch our neighbors ride the wave. We spend a lot of time grappling, furiously trying to hold onto that peak, but maybe that's not even possible. Eventually the wave will come down, no matter how hard we fight, bargain, or pray. Perhaps our time would be better spent learning how to land gracefully and prepare ourselves so that we're ready when the next wave comes our way.

So yesterday it felt like I had washed up on shore. Today I'm paddling my way back against the current. We may not be able to control the wave, but we have the choice to get back in the water.

*Note: I don't actually surf except in metaphors

Everest

Anyone who is a parent knows that sleep is a precious commodity. I've been up for over three hours already and it's only 9am. Along with the fatigue of getting up before the sun, is the dread that comes with knowing that there will inevitably be a mid afternoon meltdown from the over-tired three year old who no longer takes naps. It's going to be a long day...

but this is parenthood, and as much as I might want to complain and throw the covers back over my head, I'll make some coffee and do my best to be the adult here...even when my son starts whining that he can't eat his cereal because it's "too brown", and the baby won't let me leave the room without screaming.

It's easy to be grateful when the sun is shinning, the house is clean, and the kids are well behaved.

The experts say it's important to take time out for yourself, do something you enjoy. Well, it's easy to say. But what do you do when the kids jump on your back while in plank pose (as if I need another reason to procrastinate my yoga practice). It's more like a sip of coffee here, an extra minute in the shower there (I cannot describe to you the amazingness of a hot shower when you are a stay at home mom...simple pleasures indeed), that keep me going through the day.

Why do people do it? Before you have kids you have this idilic picture of what life will be like, but once you get there you realize it's not at all a sunny day at the park, but a steep climb up a mountain. We are climbing Everest. It's miles and miles of suffering, for a few minutes at the top...and then you have to head back down again. It's cold, it's hard, you could die in the process, but you do it because you've been told that the view is worth it.

Those few brave souls that have conquered it, say that it's a high unlike anything. So much so that people do it over and over again, knowing full well the misery and agony that it takes to get to that pinnacle. I'm not sure there is a pinnacle to this metaphorical mountain. If there is one will you recognize it when you're there, or will you look back at the mountain and worry about how far you have to climb down? Maybe, if you stop for a minute and turn your head from the mountain, you might realize that there are some pretty great views during the climb too; A smile, a hug, an improvisational game of ghost chasing. Or maybe we are like those climbers who keep going back for more, endlessly ascending and descending for just a moment at the summit.

However you look at it, there is no doubt that a parent, a good parent, has an arduous journey, and deserves all of the accolades of those that manage to reach the highest point on earth, or even just attempt it.

Onward dear climbers, you're almost there...again.

to starting again

It's been three years since my last post. Three years! My first son was just a baby. Since then we've moved and had another baby boy, (Skylar Owen, 10 months). I've quit my singing gig, bought a mini van, and become entrenched in the full-time, stay-at-home-mom lifestyle.

It's easy to get discouraged after such a long absence. When you start, you're all inspired, consistency is easy. But just once you say, I'll get to it tomorrow. And then tomorrow turns into next week, next month, next year...and then after that long, what's the point? That's the thought that has kept me away for three years. Why is it so hard to start over?

I think I feel like I failed. I had an idea of what I wanted my writing and my blog to look like, and I am disappointed in myself that I couldn't keep up with it. It's easier to ignore it than to acknowledge my shortcomings, because that's what it takes to start over. You have to look back at what you did wrong, how you failed, swallow your pride, and move forward. You can't learn from your mistakes if you try to hide them away. No one is perfect, and it's never too late.

I remember a conversation with my mom awhile back where she was talking about someone who was thinking about going back to college. It went something like this:

-"but I'll be 30 and JUST finishing my bachelors degree"

mom: "and how old will you be if you don't go?"

-"30"

mom: "and you won't have a degree"

It's never too late. All it takes is the courage to start again. Hopefully when you take the first step, it's with more knowledge, humility, and determination.

Part of me wanted to create a completely different site and erase all of my previous posts from three years ago. But I think that's just my fear creeping in again. I know that I need to keep them there, if only to show how far I've come and to remind myself of what happens when I let the fear of failure run the agenda. I hope I can learn from the past and use it as fuel to move forward.