Stressing or Not, the Pink and Purple Will Make it into Boxes

We're moving. The family with three little girls and a home full of things pink and purple is packing up and moving out of state. And we're moving soon. Very soon, as in this very month soon. And in this house of ours is not one box packed full of all of our pink and purple things. That's right. We haven't begun to pack. At all. And does this freak me out? Does this send me into fits of desperation as I look around me and see all the dolls and pictures and tea cups that need to be packed and moved to another state in a matter of days? Absolutely not. I'm cool as a cucumber. Huh. Never thought I'd use that phrase, but there it is.

And while I could just say I'm a procrastinator, and I'll get to packing and freaking out at the very last minute, I somehow believe there won't be any freaking out about packing. At least not from this mommy, because you know what...I think I've reached my limit on things to freak out about. It's just stuff. It's just boxes and moving trucks and packing paper and dotted lines to sign on. It'll get done, and if it doesn't, then we'll just have to leave some pink and purple stuff behind and get ourselves to our new home in the mountains without it.

Here's the thing. As many mommies out there would probably agree, there just aren't enough hours in the day and room in the brain for obsessing over everything and for making everything a priority. Oh, don't get me wrong. I obsess, and I certainly prioritize, but not everything in my life has room on the top of my list anymore. Things like last play dates with friends, story time, and afternoon baking with the kids time....those are on my list these days. And, of course, managing the clutter in my living room is and always will be near the top of my list. I try not to care about it as much, but it drives me crazy sometimes. Anyway, when the items are checked off the top of my list, then I log on to the online classes I teach. And then I hope against hope to get some kind of writing down, writing and revising my novels and query letters being the first priority, and then on a rare night like tonight I hop on over to saltthesugar.blogspot.com and pound out some thoughts. And then, hopefully I'll get some sleep before I start again at the top of my list.

So, what in the world is my point here? I guess I'm just sitting here, exhausted but also ready to move on to the place our family is going to call home as our kids grow, and I'm thinking that there's a lot to do, but it's not going to get done tonight. And I'm thinking it's a strange feeling to sit here typing and not be moving around my house like a crazy person as I try to get it all done tonight. So you see, all I'm really saying is that I've finally found something that I seem to be completely lackadaisical about, and it's a pretty great feeling, especially for a multi-tasking mom of busy little ones.

And it makes me wonder....Surely I'm not alone in this. I wonder if there are any other go-getter busy busies out there who one day found themselves feeling like sipping on some sweet tea and leaving the packing...or the mopping or the bill paying or the stack of papers to grade or whatever it is...for another day...even if "another day" turns out to be the last day possible.

Jesus Socks

I am really enjoying myself this Christmas season. I have the extraordinary pleasure of having a three year old to celebrate with. Of course, it is so wonderful to celebrate Christmas with everyone from a new baby to a great-grandmother; however three year olds are just set apart from the crowd this time of year. Last year they had a ball opening gifts and eating sweets, and of course, they learned a lot and retained a little about traditions and the origin of Christmas. But at three, they are asking "why" all the time, and it catches me off guard when I see how many of my responses are remembered and taken seriously. Very seriously.

"What is Christmas? Why's it called Christmas? Why do we get presents? Why we eat together? Why we decorate a tree? Why did we get a BIG tree?" And on and on and on. As a mama who not only believes in Christ and wants her children to understand what we are celebrating, I am just tickled pink to hear comments like, "Oh, I'm gonna make Jesus a card for his birthday" and when pointing at the Christmas stockings hanging in our house, my little one said, "Those are Jesus socks." She came up with that one on her own, by the way. While shopping for groceries, we made a detour to the bakery for some cake watching, which always keeps the kiddies happy. Usually at the bakery I hear something along the lines of, "Look at that princess cake! I want that one for my birthday." But this time I heard, "Oh, Mama, I wanna get that cake for Jesus for His birthday!" Love, love it. I mean, of course there have been some moments of "I want this for Christmas," but when I take a few deep breaths and calm down after hearing the "I want, I want" chant, I realize that I really did much to create that problem myself by strolling through the shiny toy section at the store with the kids in the cart. What was I thinking? But for the most part, it has been not only a joy, but a lesson, to listen to my kid this December.

When my kids have a birthday coming around, I ask them how they want to celebrate. I try to shape the celebration around their likes, interests, and wishes. It's not my birthday, it's theirs. So after listening to my three year old talk about throwing a huge party for Jesus, that's just what we're gonna do. Red velvet birthday cake and all. Okay, so that's MY favorite cake, but I don't think Jesus would mind. I mean, it does look pretty Christmasy, you know. And we will put His name on it. But I don't just want it to be about the party. December is always full of charity bashes, food drives, and really great things like that. These things seem like something Jesus might want us to do, right? I want my family to be as involved in all those wonderful giving opportunities as possible. I don't feel like I've been commanded to celebrate Christmas, but I also don't feel commanded to celebrate any one's birthday. But I do it because it's a really cool way to show someone that he or she matters to me. And I'm gonna try my darnedest...(yes, that's a word...don't question it...I was raised on it...) to not get stressed about decorating and cooking and wrapping and shopping. Because that's just silly. This is a time set aside to celebrate. And I know that if someone threw me a birthday party, and it was a really nice party, but I watched that hostess stress herself out and go into debt buying things that weren't really that important, then I would be heartbroken. What's fun about watching someone you love make herself miserable for you? Seriously.

Now I'm sure I encounter people everyday this December who don't put or maybe don't even want to put much focus on Christ during this time of year. Me, I'm just gonna celebrate what I'm gonna celebrate. I don't want any judgment coming in my door or out of my mouth, especially this time of year. Anyone who wants to have a happy holiday season is welcome to do so with me....no matter if we see eye to eye. I mean, it's Jesus' birthday being celebrated, so I'm gonna try to go by His guest list...not mine.

Call Me Crazy: A Rant on the Absurdity of Calling a Mother Over-Qualified

So there's a phrase I've heard many times now from good-intentioned women, whom I believe were trying to prevent me from accumulating a fortune in student loans or to lower my stress level or to simply encourage me to devote time to my family. While the intentions of these women may have been good...I gotta say...the phrase just bothers me. Really bothers me. The phrase?..."Don't over-qualify yourself to raise your children." Okay...what?

Now that I have children, I don't believe this is possible. How could I OVER-qualify myself for such an important job? Mothering is a time demanding, highly rewarding job. It calls for a vast set of skills, and it is a charge with eternal significance.

The point behind the "don't over-qualify yourself..." statement would often be something along the lines of "Why spend 200,000 dollars on a law degree and fill your head with all sorts of legal knowledge, if you are going to stay at home with your kids and not practice law?" I'll tell you why, or at least why according to this mom: We all have interests, passions, and strengths which can create in us a desire to master certain subjects and areas, and to pursue these interests, passions, and strengths can be a wonderful thing. Some women may want to learn to play Bach Inventions flawlessly on the piano. Some may want to become a licensed therapist. Some may want to attend night school to earn their high school diploma. Others might want to work hours in the kitchen to develop the best sweet potato pie recipe in town. And whether or not these women choose to use these accomplishments in the work force now, never, or later...guess what?...the skills and experiences gained through the process of achieving these goals can certainly help qualify one in a unique way for motherhood.

Many times I have heard people comment on the waste of money a Masters Degree is for a stay-at-home mom. This just gets under my skin. Waste? Really? Even if I never teach, instruct, or facilitate another class in my life, I can say with confidence that I will use my MFA as a mother. Maybe my kids will be encouraged by my experience to dedicate themselves to their education. I'll be better prepared to help with their literary education and hopefully help them to develop a love of books. Or maybe the life lessons I learned while working late hours on my school work will help me to better manage my time and follow through with other commitments. The process of borrowing and repaying student loans will help me to responsibly manage my family's finances. And I cannot tell you how many times the random knowledge I have from college courses like "The History of Fashion" come up in conversations and provide answers to questions from family members like "When is this movie set?"...ha...like I said, random. I could go on and on and on and on about the benefits I see in my life and the lives of mothers around me, who use what they know or what they have done to fulfill the role of mother in one way or another. And I'm sure most mothers could go on and on and on with their own examples, too. Whether a mom has a high school diploma or a doctorate, and whether she completed an apprenticeship with a woodworker or has a certificate for yoga instruction, I'll bet you she is not "over" qualified as a mother.

And maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm just speaking for myself here, but it seems to me that children can benefit from highly educated, well-disciplined, or uniquely talented moms. Call me crazy. Just don't call me over-qualified.

It Matters More Now

It's funny how before my kids were born I had all this time to write, think, keep my house in order, play the piano, and all the other things that keep me grounded and full of purpose, but now that my kids are born, well, making time to work at these things is pretty darn hard, but doing them matters so much more to me. It's like, when I write something now, it seems more lasting, more precious to me somehow. Maybe my kids will want to read through my journals someday, and maybe they won't, or maybe they will just like to know that they have something their mother wrote in their possession. Whatever the situation may someday be...I'd like to leave words behind for my girls that mean something to them. And when my kids hear me playing the piano every now and again, I want them to hear something sweet or comforting in the music, rather than hearing "old classical music and hymns that mom played instead of spending time with us". And I certainly don't want washing dishing to trump getting down on the floor and playing memory with my kids, but I do want them to have a comfortable, clean home in which to thrive. So, how in the heck do I not cross over this fine line from working at things that matter in special ways to the dark side of a mom too into "me time" and her own pursuits to remember to notice and really see her children? For all you mommies with passions and hobbies and dreams out there, this is not a rhetorical question. Seriously...how do y'all suggest keeping on the right side of the line? At this point...I'm thinking it shouldn't be that big of a problem, because I am thinking of my daughters and my role as a mother in some way as I perform every little task I do. But I realize that as kids grow up and become more independent, then this may be more difficult to do...maybe?...I don't know.

Inspired.

So here I am...blogging again. I completely slacked off on this pursuit during the month of July, but let me tell you...this was an intentional slacking off. There were times during the last month when I started to log on to blogspot and get a-goin' again, but then I thought to myself, "Brittany, Brittany, Brittany...you are exhausted. You are uncomfortable due to the blessings of the third trimester of a third pregnancy. You are behind on work, and you have not scraped away much creative writing time for yourself this last month." All of these things in conjunction with all sorts of other randomness meant that anything I sat down to write on here would be a little too melancholy, and possibly, a little too whiny for my posting taste and definitely too pessimistic for your reading pleasure, whoever "you" are, if "you" even exist. And if "you" do exist, then I apologize for neglecting you for the last month, but you have my word that it was for your own good.

So, I am back from a wonderful trip to Kentucky. I am finishing up one of my final online teaching assignments before taking a little time off. And I am writing again. Of course, I am still a bit uncomfortable, but this really is nothing to complain about considering that the above mentioned things have put me in a much better state of mind than I have been in. I really do think the number one change in my mood has been my trip to Kentucky. There is something about the shade of the mountains and the people and the taste of homegrown tomatoes from my family's garden (yum.) that restores me to my previously inspired self. Everytime I visit my hometown, I get so many new ideas for writing projects and so excited about sitting down with a pen and writing things down. I'm not really sure if this has more to do with the fact that I get a sense of home from being in the place where I was born and grew up, or if it has more to do with the beauty and laid back atmosphere of the specific place I am from. I tend to think that the inspiration I draw from the Appalachian Mountains has more to do with the history of a place which was able to hold on to its unique stories and food and ways of living much longer than most other places. There's something magical about a place where a writer or a painter or any other kind of artist can walk into her grandmother's kitchen and hear the same tales and songs that have been told and sung in that grandmother's family for hundreds of years. Call me old-fashioned, but that's pretty darn cool to me. Makes me want to write.

And I will write. This is me telling myself that I will make time to write, even if it means I will not sleep so much or if I need to find some other clever way of carving out time to be creative and live in the world of my characters. There really does have to be a way to make this time, because I am the kind of girl who, when inspired, will likely explode in some unattractive manner if I do not get out my inspiration by putting words down on paper.

Oh and while on the topic of writing, I'll also note that I have a goal to write down all the silly little smart things my daughters are saying on a regular basis now. I have to write down their funny statements or else I will be so sad one day if I cannot remember to tell my oldest that she called my dad an "ol' stick in the mud" or that my younger daughter finally decided to use complete phrases just so she could tell her daddy to "wait a second" when he told her to do something.

If a trip to Kentucky and clever little girls fail to inspire me, then I don't know what would. This is going to be a much better month.

Bored.

I am bored, very, very bored with lots and lots of things to do. But the things I have to do are not things that are fun. They aren't things I am looking forward to. So I am looking at my two toddlers. I am wondering if they are bored, too. I sure hope not, but sometimes when one or both of them get frustrated and start asking to do something but can't tell me what it is they want to do, then I start to think they are bored. Bored, even though they have a ridiculous amount of toys. Blocks and dress-up clothes, puzzles and My Little Ponies. There are dolls and stuffed animals all over their room. Princess toys, musical toys, and a bunch of random toys fill up bins in our living room. We have tons of craft supplies. We go on outings regularly, but I am still considering the possibility that my two little sweethearts are bored. Doesn't seem to make much sense, but oh well.



So here's what I'm thinking. I'm bored because I'm tired of doing the same things over and over and over again. When they start to act frustrated and ignore the things they have to do at home, maybe they are just tired of doing the same things over and over and over again. Sure, it seems silly. I mean, how could you get tired of relaxing in a kiddy pool when you have no responsibilities? Yet, everyone, no matter the age could benefit from a little change now and then. So, I've decided that tomorrow we'll just trade. My kids can dress up in mommy sweatpants and do the dishes and fold laundry, while I build a castle out of alphabet blocks then take a nap. Problem solved.



Or, maybe we'll just do something different tomorrow. Together. I'm thinking we might make bird feeders out of cardboard, peanut butter, and birdseed. It's a cheap, fun, craft we can make together, and they'll like it because it is messy and edible, at least partially.

Who is this Girl?

I am the kind of girl who visits the mailbox multiple times a day when waiting for a package or some news. I am the kind of girl who cannot focus on anything else when there is a pressing or exciting matter unresolved. I am the kind of girl who sets a goal, and always reaches it, though usually at the expense of every other little thing in my life. Or at least that used to be this girl.

But here I am with a completed novel and no agent. Two agents have requested the full manuscript and have it, but I am somehow staying calm while waiting on word from them. I have final essays to grade this week, not to mention other teaching obligations. There is more laundry to do, a dishwasher and dish rack to unload, and there are so, so many other chores that need to be done. Cheerios are everywhere in my house they should not be. Yet, I took my kids to the zoo and then out for a treat at a coffee shop today. Somehow I am not stressed at all about my unpublished novel or my ever growing to-do list. Who is this girl?

Really, I don't know. I don't know if I have stressed myself out for so long that I am now numb to anticipation, disappointment, excitement, anxiety, and all those other feelings I have always known so well. Or maybe God has granted me a day off from my usually crazy self. Or it's possible that motherhood is mellowing me out. Who knows? Not me, and you know, I don't even need to know. See what I mean? This is Mellow Brittany.