Is your check engine light on? Mine sure was. A few months ago mine clicked on, and stayed on.Thankfully I paid attention to it.

I recognized that something was not right. I was crying. A lot. At work, while driving in the car, when I got home from work, and even in the middle of the night. I would wake up, begin tossing and turning, and the silent tears would start.

"What the heck is wrong with me?" I wondered.  Was I for the first time in my life depressed? Was I going through some kind of mid-life crisis? Was I sick? Or was the new job I had taken on, too much for me?

Why were tears so close to the surface all the time?

I was most concerned about the tears I shed at work. To me they were awkward and a deeper sign of a problem --- they felt like tears of frustration and dissatisfaction, but they came across to others as complaining. It bothered me that I couldn't seem to control them whenever I got passionate about an idea or a situation where I needed help with a  solution. What I thought needed to be done, and what I saw that needed fixing, wasn't as important to others. So not only did it feel like no one was listening, it felt like they thought I was trying to fix things for all the wrong reasons. Like I was being selfish.

I am pretty sure the stomach ache I had constantly was an early form of an ulcer. The ache grew from a sense of misalignment that even I didn't clearly see -- until many months later, after I had time to reflect. All I knew was that I couldn't seem to get away from the stress. And the stress seemed to be felt only by me.

At the time I had no idea that emotion in the workplace is not only normal, but helpful. Generally workplace tears represent anger or frustration at something that isn't right, more than they represent negativity and overall sadness. Check out this video from Anne Kreamer, Author of It's Always Personal: Emotion in the New Workplace.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9Lb3w_vjIE]

Some interesting things I have since come to learn about emotion in the workplace:

•The person crying is almost always embarrassed and wishes they weren’t crying. •The most professional response is to hand the person crying a box of tissue and continue the conversation. The worst thing you can do is to make a big deal of the tears, or to withdraw from the conversation and stop talking to the person, making them feel worse. •The person crying is often a person who has a lot invested in their work, or who is experiencing something in the workplace that goes against their personal values. It’s very important to listen and to ask a lot of questions to determine the source of the frustration. •Dig a little. The first explanation for the emotion may not be the real one. It might only be the most recent one. •Don’t see tears as weakness or negativity. They are very simply someone's reaction to strong emotions.

It is important for the person doing the crying and the manager (or whomever is observing the tears), to move through the emotion and get to heart of the matter. Too many managers, especially men, feel really uncomfortable and guilty when tears are present. They hurry the tears and attempt to alleviate the distress. What is really needed is to connect deeply with the person crying, and to  listen to what they are truly saying. That will build both trust and respect, and give you a good insight into the things that might be out of balance.

It was only after I made the decision to quit my job that I found this video. And with time and distance, things began to make sense to me.

I was crying for all the right reasons. I was in the wrong job (for me) and no amount of effort was going to fix that. And until I removed myself from the internal stress I was feeling, my tears were going to continue; at work, at home, in the car, in the middle of the night --- everywhere.

If you find yourself crying a lot ( especially at work), it might be time to give your check engine light a look.

Today is our 28th wedding anniversary.

It is super hard to believe that it was 1985 when we got married. It sounds like forever ago and yet it feels like only yesterday.

As college sweethearts we were all fresh-faced, in love and completely naïve to what life had in store for us. Two kids, two houses and a cottage later, we are still together. Solidly together. But it has not always been a piece of cake; we've had our challenges, the inevitable ups and down, and yet somehow we worked through them all and have come out the other side -- stronger together.

I recognize that we are among the lucky ones.

I suppose as a kid I always assumed that life got easier as we grew up. Not sure how I came to that conclusion, I guess grown ups just seemed to have things together and made it look easy. I always aspired to be like them. Little did I know that with grown up lives come grown up responsibilities. It isn't easier -- it is just more complicated. The stakes are higher. And there is no one to fix things for you.

Raising our boys, with all their busy hands and minds,  and later endless activities --- seemed like that was going to be the most stressful time in life. Working, being a mom of two little ones, staying involved, keeping the house clean, food stocked, clothes washed, remembering to be a wife, a friend, a daughter a sister --- it all can seem overwhelming when you are in the middle of it. Especially when you are always striving to cross the next thing off your to-do-list---like I always was.

I spent many years trying to get control of things I should have just let go of. Who cares if my house is messy or dusty, or the baseboards have never been washed....are you really supposed to clean them? Who looks anyway.

I've learned the importance of slowing life down, of being present, of throwing aside the to do list when someone needs you, and in not living for tomorrow or next week. I'm learning to linger in the present and make each day count.

I am learning to appreciate the little things. Like...

Walks in the sun. Holding hands. Cuddles. A cat call (or two) when I wear something nice. Generous hugs. Smiles. Belly laughs. A kiss just because. A compliment I wasn't expecting. A "how is your day" text. Comfortable silences. The warmth of falling asleep beside the one you love on a cold dark night.

And the relief I feel from the certainty that when I am at my wit's end, my husband will take over for me--no questions asked.

I love that about him.

His little gestures of thoughtfulness and respect mean so much more to me than expensive presents ever could---finding the coffee made for the next morning, laundry folded and put away, the windows washed, the milk replaced in the refrigerator, my computer fixed, whatever I needed help with done when I get home exhausted after a late meeting. Every small thing means so much.

6 months ago when he said: "Just quit your job. I'm not worried you will find another. You will figure it out." I darn near melted.

When someone believes in you that much all things are possible.

28 years ago today I married my best friend. It continues to surprise me how much more I love him every day. Every once in a while I realize that we are not the spring chickens we once were and I try even harder not to take anything for granted. I want a lot more years with my husband, and I certainly do not want it to whir by as fast as the first 28 did.

My house might never be truly clean again. I don't cook homemade meals like I once did, at least not very often. I'm learning not to care. But I am so lucky that even on the darkest days (and there have been some lately) I have great strength by my side. Together I know we can get through whatever challenges life throws at us.

Happy Anniversary to the man I love. It is truly a joy to be your wife.

Courage like no other.

It's true, I lied this week.

And, I never lie. But this time I did…I lied about my biggest fear(s).

I said that my biggest fears were: not moving forward, being helpless, or being insignificant (not mattering).

And I left one out, the biggest one. I lied by omission.

What I couldn't say is that my biggest fear is losing one of my children. I couldn’t say it because it  just happened to my best friend from high school. She lost her 18 year old daughter in a tragic and unexplainable car accident.

In the blink of an eye, Addie is gone, and she's never coming back.

It is the scariest thing ever to think about. It’s been two weeks and I still cannot wrap my head around it. I cannot imagine how my friend felt/ feels. I just can't. It hurts too much to try, and it makes it all so incredibly real. I cannot fathom the depths of her pain.

When I heard the news that Addie was gone, it rocked me so hard I could barely breathe. Who can imagine anything more awful than losing your child? I know I can’t.

And it scares me so much I couldn't admit the truth to you before.

But I went with my friend to Iowa to attend the memorial service and I have seen her strength. My friend is a survivor. She will face this as she has so many challenges in her life, and she will survive. Her strength inspires me to tell the truth about my lie.

My biggest fear is losing a child. 

My prayers are with my friend, her son and the many who loved princess Addie.  She will never be forgotten.

It isn't often that events in life paralyze me. I'm usually a really good "doer". When life gets crazy I am one to grab control and take action. And yet when the phone rang last weekend with awful news, I froze. I'd purposefully left last Sunday wide open to organize, accomplish and get my newly formed LLC company a little further off go. Instead, it came to a grinding halt.

The phone call brought the news that my best friend from high school's daughter had died the night before in a car crash while away at college.

It was news no one ever wants to hear. She's just a baby...

So many thoughts and feelings hit me at once. I was silent as I processed. Instant sadness. Instant dread. Instant panic. Addie gone? No, it can't be. Then thoughts jumped immediately to Jan (her mom) and Jack (her little brother), oh my gosh how must they be feeling? What now? This can't be real---there must be some mistake---Addie's too young, she has too much life yet to live, she only just figured out what she was going to do with her life...she can't really be gone.

Then my thoughts switch to my own kids, I wonder is Mitch safe? Sadie? Jeffrey? Alec is home with me, so I know he is okay.  I flashback to a picture from years ago of Addie and Jack and my kids on the living room couch. I remember how happy they all looked, their squiggly little bodies tanned and sweaty from the summer sun, and it makes me want to hug them all again, especially Addie.

On her birthday, last New Year's Day, Addie turned 18 and her facebook status was: And thus adulthood begins...Happy New Year! It takes my breath away that less than three months later, her adulthood has ended.

If ever there was a clear sign that our time here on Earth is limited, this is it. The death of a child brings that immediately into focus.

Addie's death will never make sense to me. Or to  those who love her. She was so full of life. She had such big plans. She had yet to achieve so many things.

My earliest memories of her are as a sweet little princess with a huge smile and a ready hug. As she grew up her heart stayed just as big and led her on many wild adventures. Addie didn't really do anything halfway. If she loved, she loved fully. With her whole heart. If she wanted something, she went after it. With her whole heart. Although her time here with us was short, she lived and loved with everything in her.

I will always admire her for that. I'd say in her 18 years she lived more fully than I have in my 50+ years. Thinking of her mega watt smile will always remind me that I need to live that way as well. To stop being worried about the future and to enjoy each and every day. Because we never really know when our last day will be, do we?

I will forever miss Addie's random texts, facebook chats, phone conversations and summer vacation face to face visits. They always popped up at just the right time to teach me a lesson, and to make me think.  Regardless of the drama that followed her at times, there was never a doubt that she cared hugely about those she loved. And she wasn't afraid to follow her heart. I cannot yet make any sense of this accident. Maybe I never will. I hope that someday I will know how I am to use this life lesson, this experience and these memories of her, to help others. Addie would want that.

I hope she is dancing, singing, smiling and hugging her way through heaven right now. Miss Addie you will never be forgotten.

Have you thought about whether you are an introvert or an extrovert? If you have taken the Myers-Briggs test the first letter tells you what you are. Mine says E for extrovert, and few of you who know me would argue with that, but lately I am not convinced this is correct.I'm listening to Susan Cain's book Quiet: The Power of Introverts In A World That Can't Stop Talking and I'm feeling like I identify with as many introverted characteristics as I do extroverted ones. Maybe more. Tonight I will be attending her lecture at Fountain Street Church and I am curious if she will shed any light on this for me.

It has always confused me when my children (or even some of my adult friends) claim that they are bored. I cannot remember the last time I was bored. It might go back to when my first baby, who is now 21, had me up in the middle of the night. Cold and dark, with my "hands" occupied feeding baby, I found myself bored and maybe a little frustrated that I was awake and not accomplishing anything. Used to being a "doer" and a "mover" through life, I resented the quiet, dark, unproductive time.

Looking back on it now, how I wish I would have embraced it. As the noise of life grows ever louder around me, I crave that silence. And yet by all accounts, I am an extrovert. Energized by conversations and collaboration, I came home from a vision board workshop I led a few weeks ago so exhilarated my son was actually concerned I had indulged in too much caffeine.

I hadn't. I was high on connection. I felt on fire.

So why then is an extrovert like me also deliberately searching out quiet blocks of solitude?

While I am energized with action and ideas after a deep conversation with a person or a group of people, I also find that I get easily distracted if there is too much energy around me. I almost cannot stop thinking, therefore nothing gets done. But put me in an office all by myself and I get distracted as well. I get sluggish and search for unproductive ways to get energized; I check a little facebook or read a blogpost or two.  The last place I worked I was given a private office for the first time ever and I rarely felt productive in it. I missed the interaction and the collaboration of others. I could concentrate, but I wasn't very energized.

Confused about me? I am, too. So moving forward, my plan is to keep observing things like when I get my best ideas and when I am most productive. It may be that I truly need a mix of both "people time" for energy, and solitude for focus, in order to accomplish.

Perhaps that is why I am having such a hard time determining my next step. Maybe my ideal job is one I need to create for myself. A mix of collaboration and connection time combined with quieter blocks of solitude. Can you be half introvert and half extrovert?

Hmmm food for thought on an inspired Wednesday.

A sure sign of a season change is when the lower deck looks like this.

I love Michigan for several reasons. One is that I can’t imagine living anywhere that doesn’t have a distinct change of seasons. While I, like most people, think our summer here is too short, I still love me a good season change.

Why?

It keeps things fresh. It signals change. You just get into the routine of summer and before you can even begin to get bored, the nights get a little cooler, the sun sets a little earlier, and the acorns start pinging off the back deck. Sure signs that summer is coming to an end. It is always bittersweet for me, because summer is hands down my favorite season.

But, there is a back to school excitement about fall, even though it has been eons since I was even in school. For me, it’s kind of like starting over. The fun and laziness of summer gets put away with every beach toy and pair of flip flops, making way for lined notebooks filled with a bucket list of possibilities.

I also totally enjoy the wardrobe switch that comes with the season change. Because one thing I get bored (quickly) with, is clothes. A season change usually means new clothes, or if that is not in the budget, at least, different clothes. Clothes that I had put away until they were weather appropriate, and which feel new when I pull them back out of the closet.

As fall arrives I always take stock of my life; my goals, my to do list; my New year’s Resolutions. It’s my wake up call that the year is soon headed for completion, and I’d better re-evaluate how far I’ve gotten on my list of goals. No longer is the sun and warm weather my “golden ticket” to relax, but now fall’s “golden ticket” becomes making some forward progress. And, it usually wakes up my exercise routine, too.

I’ve always been a summer weight gainer. And this year is no exception. The slowness I love about summer quickly morphs into the need to accomplish in the fall. I go back to teaching yoga, attending evening activities, and pursuing new passions.

I go back to reality.

Pretty sure I’d be a little sad if we didn’t have seasons. And leaves turning their beautiful colors. And pumpkin seeds, apples, soups and sweatshirts.

Yep, no doubt about it, summer rules! But deep down, I’m a Michigander. I’m a seasonal girl.

Funny how a year changes everything. At this time last year I was just getting used to the idea of taking on another child. Yesterday, I let him go...

My time with him will forever be etched in my heart. Even if it was all turned around to sound ugly and wrong in court yesterday. I know it wasn't his idea to pretend the experience with us was not a good one. It was his mother's. It was clear by her reaction when the guardianship was terminated that she wasn't doing it for the right reasons. Surprisingly enough, she was actually mad. Mad that the "judge" asked Jeffrey point blank if he was asking to go back and live with his mom, in order to take care of her. Obviously the question hit way too close to home and explains why immediately afterward, she stormed out of the courtroom.

Her reaction made it all the worse for me. Because it gave confirmation to me, that her intentions were not honorable. For Jeff's sake I had hoped they would be. I wanted her to want Jeff back because she wanted time with him, I wanted him to be the reason. I fear it was more about something else entirely.

For two months I had quietly been grieving;  knowing inevitably I would have no say, and no control in this matter of such importance. If he wanted to, he was going to go back to her, no matter what I said or who stood behind me in support. Earlier this summer his mother filed paperwork saying we had been unfit guardians. (Although she eventually ended  up dropping her accusations). After court, a mixture of helplessness and anger fueled me through the rest of the day. I asked myself over and over, could I have fought the decision? Yes. Would it have done any good? No. Jeff is 16.5 and the court has no real option but to consider his wishes. Just like when his wish was to join our family to get away from his mother; they listened. In the end, it didn't matter, no one even asked me what I thought. I guess the "judge" could see what was written all over my face. I had no choice but to let him go back to his mom, and back to the life I thought I had saved him from.

How dare she be mad! She got what she wanted, she got Jeff. He sat in court and said he wanted to be returned to her. To cover for her perjury on that original paperwork, he lied in court yesterday and insinuated we took him to Pine Rest because of several attempts at self harm. (We took him to get tested for ADHD and a learning disability.) He told the judge he had gone to therapy while living with us, and had gotten better; in reality I dragged him there three times and he barely said anything.

I'm sorry she put him in a position to have to lie. He knows very clearly how I feel about lying, it can't make him feel good about himself, or his decision to leave us to live with her, knowing that we all know the truth. My heart breaks for that kind of pressure on a kid, no wonder the testing at Pine Rest came back and said he had PTSD---more than likely caused by his own mother.

I remember writing my post about how happy I was last spring because it felt like he had settled in and found a comfortable place here. I look at pictures and see what I thought was a happier kid. One who seemed calmer, and one who smiled and laughed more. In retrospect maybe I was just projecting my happiness onto him, and reading more into things every time he opened up, even if it was only just a little.

Thinking of him now brings tears to my eyes. And an ache to my heart. We will be spending this Labor Day weekend without him, and it will remind me of the promise of last year, and the hope we all had for a better life for him, and with him.

Good luck Jeffrey, I hope someday you realize that everything we did, we did completely for you. Because we believe in you. Our door is always open.

P.S. Didn't I once say that sometimes the hardest part of parenting is letting go? I was right.

“Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for; it is a thing to be achieved.” ---William Jennings Bryan

 Photo Credit: Mollie Kwiek Photography

My 18 year old son spent the night in jail this week. He was arrested for possession of marijuana.

Not what you’d call a mom’s proudest moment, not by a long shot. It also isn’t the kind of news a person wants to share, and yet it feels like I am not being truthful if I leave it out of the conversation.

Being a realist, I sometimes get accused of being pessimistic; I’m not. But I am cautious and I do worry. I feel the need to prepare myself for the worst, anticipating what could happen, so that I can deal with what actually does. The control freak in me hates surprises. Many times my “preparing” just ends up as wasted worry.

Not this time.

When I got the news that my son had been taken to jail from a friend of his, I was calmer than I had anticipated I could ever be. Maybe the relief in knowing that at least he was alive had something to do with that. When he didn’t come home the night before, nor answer his phone all day long, my mom”dar” imagination was going all kinds of crazy places.

There have been signs for a while that something wasn’t quite right with him. But no amount of talking seemed to break through his angry shell. About a week before this incident I broached what I thought was a frank discussion about where his life was headed, or wasn’t headed. I actually said the words: “I want to know the truth, are you doing drugs? I do not want to be blindsided, I want to know what we are dealing with.”

Deep down did I really think he was smoking pot?  No. He’s a good liar. I believed him when he said he wasn’t. That he wouldn’t. That he knew it was stupid, and he knew the risks. I rationalized the lingering doubt in me by assuming that he had tried it, and had stopped. What he really meant is…I know the risks and I don’t care.

I have never tried an illegal substance, neither has my husband, so it is hard to understand this situation my son finds himself in. I have explained, no doubt ad nausea, why I personally considered the risks of smoking marijuana not worth taking. I had hoped both my kids would use this sage advice to come to the same conclusion we did. Clearly, it didn’t work that way.

How should a parent feel in this situation? Guilty? Disappointed? Angry? Or like a failure for not having made sure the message was clear? Well, in truth, feeling any of that would just be a waste of energy. He’d have done the same thing regardless.

Honestly I feel a little relieved, at least now I know the truth. I hope this was his rock bottom and that from here things will start looking up. I hope I can stop being the kind of mom who looks at every weird object I find laying around the house and wondering what it was used for. I want to lose the urge I sometimes feel to search through his wastebasket to see if anything looks suspect.

I want to stop feeling guilty for not trusting my own child.

He put himself in this situation not only knowing how we felt about marijuana use, but knowing exactly what the consequences of getting caught with it might be. Funny how a strong willed child grows into an 18 year old who believes that by his sheer will no bad things are going to happen to him.

I feel embarrassed, but not for my sake, I am embarrassed for him. I am disappointed in him, but not more than he is in himself. I do worry about his future but I also realize how fiercely I love that kid. I wished his life to be all neat and tidy, all the unpleasant setbacks happily absent. But, that is what I wanted for him and this isn’t my story. It’s his. And his story is made up of his choices.

I have learned that people have to make their own mistakes, no matter how hard you try to show them the easier way. So that means this is not a reflection on my parenting skills, it is about a kid making his own mistakes and in turn having to accept responsibility for his actions.

The big question now is what will he do with his second chance? I have faith that he will grow from this experience, and that he will use it to become the person I believe he was always meant to be.

Back in May I wrote a post for The Mode Life called In a Perfect World. After events that happened this week, I was actually comforted by words from my own post.Excerpt...

"But in the end, it isn’t about us. It’s about letting our kids make their own choices and their own mistakes. The consequences are theirs to own. It isn’t a reflection of how I have parented. It isn’t about me at all. And if at the end of the day we have given it our best effort and offered our most honest attempt to show them the way, and yet they still choose a path different from what we would have chosen for them; it is not our fault.

There I said it. It is not my fault. "

As mothers, we often we second guess our parenting skills. I've learned lately that crap is inevitably going to happen, no matter how much we try to circumvent it.

How we respond to that crap makes a big difference in how it will play out within our everyday lives. I choose to respond* to this week's situation, rather than to just react. Meaning I didn't go all bat shi** crazy (even if deep down I really wanted to).

It worked. I was calmer, I was more effective, and I felt better about my actions. I will not always be able do the right thing, but I plan to use this newfound control when faced with the next crisis and see where it leads me.

For the full post, click here.

*It's Not About You: A Little Story About What Matters Most in Business by Bob Burg & John David Mann (p. 40 - 52)

Just before my fabulously relaxing vacation at the lake I discovered something about myself. 

Something HUGE and exciting: I figured out my purpose. 

I was sitting on the dock in 90 something degree weather and this revelation (which after looking back through my journaling was actually simmering inside of me for a couple of weeks) leapt  off the page at me. I immediately got goose bumps. And then I texted my friend Alana. 

Alana is on a similar journey to discover what her purpose in life is also, so I knew that she would appreciate what knowing my purpose would mean to me. Alana has her own blog and a coaching business and asked if I would share my story with her readers. 

In case you didn't see it yet, hop on over to Musings of a Shiny Penny to check it out. And while you are there, poke around some, she has some great stuff to share. 

@font-face { font-family: "Arial"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }

Sometimes the path is not clear, but the next step is a no-brainer. That’s how I felt when I signed up for a local YNPN conference back in May without knowing why. Maybe it was the name, Ignite…I love that word.

Who doesn’t want to be ignited even more than they already are?

It’s true, I’m on a journey. And it freaks me out less than it used to, to admit that I have no idea where I am headed. About a year ago I recognized that my work life was not what I wanted it to be, and I was unhappy, unfulfilled, and hugely restless. So I set out to move some cheese.

One step at a time…I decided to begin following my passions and see where they led me.

My steps seem to be taking me places, new places in fact, and they feel right. As if, on my journey, I am recognizing parts of me that I never understood before. My strengths, my weaknesses, my insecurities, my inner confidence. It is all moving me closer to my vision for a fulfilled life.

I feel like I am finally becoming the person I have always wanted to be. Someone who gives back to the world around them. I am not doing anything grandiose (yet) only taking some small steps toward being the best person I can be.

As I sat in breakout group number one at YNPN’s Ignite Conference last May with Steve Frazee, I felt a huge sense of affirmation. He explained his theory on the growth steps a person makes in their personal journey, and how their “software” changes at each step of the way. It made sense to me. I am changing, I have changed, and yet at my core I am still the same person. But you need to plug into the software that reaches me at this stage in life, in order to really reach me.

I too, believe that at different stages in life we are reachable in different ways. I think it takes an understanding of people, an ability to read both people and situations, and perspective (age) to truly inspire people, to really command their attention. Steve Frazee did that for me with his talk about how we should be able to follow our passions and also make a decent living at it. We shouldn’t be defined for what we don’t do, like the non-profit sector is, but instead be defined by who we are, and what we believe in.

As I move through life I am learning what my passions are, and I am confident that one day all my dots will align, and I will make the money I deem necessary to support my family, and still be able to achieve my life’s purpose.

In fact, I’m counting on the fact that you will, too. 

It's okay to be confident, it's not okay to be arrogant.

It's okay to be optimistic, but not unrealistic.

Positive, but not delusional.

The list is endless.

It boils down to attitude and intentions. If your actions begin from a place of genuineness (and not selfishness) you will operate through life with integrity, and people will sense this. If your focus is more for selfish gain, it becomes a slippery slope. When you are not perceived by the world around you as an honest and true person, you won't learn to operate as one.

Are you uncomfortable with who you have become? If so, then it's time to reevaluate. 

It's not too late.

Everyone has the ability to look at themselves from the outside in, and to examine how the world views them. To reality check yourself and see where your true and honest intentions begin from. If you don't like what you see, you can always make a change. I'm not saying this change will come quickly or easily, in fact, it may be the hardest thing you ever do.  But in the end you will love yourself for it. And so will those around you.

Make your life matter. Be authentic. Be real. Be genuine.

Okay so we all know that it has been HOT here in Michigan for weeks.

But I'm guessing that most of you are not molten centers of HOT lava from within, aka menopausal, in this HOT weather.

What you have then, with hot + hot flashes, is a woman on fire. Inside and out.

And in more ways than one. I had an epiphany last week. I uncovered my purpose in life. My purpose in life is to move people forward. It is as simple and as complicated as that. (more on this later)

And since then, I feel like my my brain is firing on all cylinders. Like I have woken up from a long sleep, and now I am fully awake and my brain's trying to make up for lost time. I can see clearly now.

That means I have a constant fire in my brain. A race to get the words and thoughts out as fast as they come to me. Which is Jimmy John's fast, and seem to occur 24/7.

Honestly, I am afraid if I don't get them all down on paper immediately, they will poof into thin air as fast as they mysteriously came. I do not want to lose them. I feel a sense of urgency---as if this won't last forever, so I need to take advantage of it while I can.

In reality I never want this this clarity of thoughts, ideas and words to ever end, but I know that it is inevitable. Because somedays I can't even find my car in the parking lot, or remember why I suddenly ran out of my office to go see...someone.

It's probably hormonal, this phase. This clarity. And the certainty I feel about everything, will fade. My sleepy brain will return; and I will be boring again. I will miss my chance at brilliance. And that makes me a million times sad.

Because I want to stay in this phase forever. Fully engaged. Fully charged. Fully energized. It's all so clear.

Truthfully I could do without the hot inner lava attacks which occur after every quick shift in thinking, every surge of emotion, and at every random inopportune moment followed immediately by the sweaty upper lip and hot knee backs, but the rest....the rest, is just pure heaven.

My Startgarden Happy Hour Recap

Apologies for the crappy photo from my phone.

So why are you here?

That’s the question everyone asked me as I walked into the Startgarden Happy Hour last night. Since the Startgarden crew is a bit mysterious about their events, (the word stealth comes to mind)…I’m never really positive what I’m getting myself into (maybe they aren’t yet, either).

After attending last night, I’d liken it to a yoga class; where everyone comes for their own reasons, and everyone expects something different out of the class. So why did I show up last night?

Curiosity. It all boils down to curiosity. Not only because I am a seriously curious person, who asks a LOT of questions, but because I wanted to know if attending a Startgarden event would satisfy my inner need for a 5 x 5Night fix. Weird then, that the first five people I encountered had barely even heard of 5 x 5Night, let alone attended one. Not at all what I expected.

So, what did happen then? Nothing much, I just met people, talked to people and oh yeah, shot holes in one guy’s idea, helped one person hone their idea down into a manageable starting point, and made arrangements to meet up with another to assist her with helping her idea move forward. (In all fairness I should disclose that it happened to be about something I know a little about… yoga instructors). But the point is….

Where/when else is a regular girl like me who grew up on GR’s NW side (and still lives there), who spent 24 years at the same job, and who first and foremost is a wife and mom, going to get the chance to do that in an hour and a half? NOwhere, and that’s the beauty of Startgarden. I left feeling my opinions and thoughts were relevant and useful. And I left fired up, energized, and happy.

I am a person that has a lot of ideas, the ability to comprehend things quickly (well, after I ask a lot of questions, that is), is fueled by an inner need to teach, and loves helping people reach their full potential. But… I have little opportunity to use these skills in my everyday job, and certainly my kids are sick of me trying to prod them along to reach their full potential, so I’m left feeling a little under-utilized.

Startgarden made me feel…useful.

So, are you wondering if you should go?

Yes, if you like hanging with forward thinking, creative, idea generating peeps. And if you thrive on creative energy, then it is a must that you attend the next Startgarden Happy Hour. It is scheduled for July 12th. Register to attend at startgarden.com. I’ll be there, this time with some of my forward thinking, entrepreneurial twitter friends who also like being in on the action.

Thanks Startgarden crew for giving regular people like me a chance to be a part of something bigger than myself, and for making me feel (for at least an hour and a half) that my brain is firing on all cylinders.

P.S. Lambert Edwards—your offices rock and so does that rooftop venue! Thanks for sponsoring the Startgarden Happy Hour.

P.S.S. I still miss me some 5 x 5Night presentations.

I arrived home from work a couple weeks ago to find that Sadie, my "almost daughter", was gone.

Not just mentally and physically "checked out", as she had been for the better part of the month prior, but actually gone. As in... all of her belongings were removed from our house. All traces of her presence gone along with her. Except for a few stray items I found in the laundry.

Without her the house has felt empty, weirdly silent, and just plain different.

There are nights where I lay awake and wonder if those feelings of mother/daughter closeness I once felt, were only on my end. If not, how could she so easily and quickly pack up and leave the one time I was pushed past my limit and yelled out in pain and frustration? Was our relationship really that tenuous? I didn't think so.

As the weeks go on and I continue to mentally beat myself up for the raised voice and colorful swearing I added to that night's argument (okay, so it wasn't one of my finer moments), I feel regret. And sorrow. But not guilt. As I look back over her behavior and mine, and the build up to the "fight", I know in my heart I would do most of it the same way all over again. (Minus the swearing, of course). Hey, a person can only hold it in so long.

In retrospect I wouldn't change the honesty I brought to the conversation, or the comments I voiced (because someone had to), even if it meant that she would have stayed put. I made myself a promise to be nothing short of real, and I am sticking to it. It is sometimes super hard, lonely even, to be real. But at the core of it, to me it feels like the right place to be. Which is why there is now regret in my heart over this situation, but not guilt.

The "mad" I felt at her for leaving me so bluntly only lasted a moment and then quickly faded to heartache. I wish I could stay mad, it is so much easier for me to deal with being mad, than it is to deal with being sad. Because in my "sad", the self doubt, self criticism, sleepless nights, and what ifs...creep in.

In my head I think Sadie wasn't ready to leave our nest. I think she needs to be stronger before she takes the leap she so badly wants to take. But in my heart, I try to be positive and pray that it was her time to fly. That she is ready to test out her wings.

As I look through the pictures we have taken together over the last three years, Sadie's brilliant smile catches my eye. And I find myself being hopeful that it wasn't all just a dream. That the love I feel is not just on my side. And that although we may see things from opposite sides, we are still connected where it matters most.



Sadie & me in 2009



Here is the post I wrote late the night of the fight. It is from the terrispaulding.com site that I am in the process of figuring out how to set up. Most of this post is directed at the really tricky place I so often find myself in, between being Sadie & Jeffrey's friend and being their "almost mother", and some of it is directed at raising my own strong-willed child, who may never see me as anything more than a thorn in his side.

No Really, I Love Being A Fun Sucker

May 15, 2012

I am not your friend.

Don’t misunderstand me, I’d love nothing more than to just be your friend, but it is not my job.

I’m your parent.

And with that goes the biggest responsibility I’ve ever been entrusted with.

So as to not mess up this assignment…I am going to follow the rules of what it means to be a parent, even when it sucks to be me. Which honestly, is often.

Wouldn’t I rather just agree with you, exchange a few surface niceties and go about my merry way, instead of endlessly dragging out of you whatever your latest problem is? Oh heck yes.

But that isn’t the job I took on. And I’m not one to brush things aside, let half truths lie, or hold feelings inside, for long.

So I will scold, prod, encourage, advise, push, pull, question and challenge my way through your week. Every week.

I will even say “no” to you, and I will say it often, without reason, with reason and every place in between.

Because I love you. Because I care. Because I can. Because I am your parent.

I won’t attempt to buy your love with special treats, or adventures. I’ll instead buy you “real” food, boots, underwear, deodorant, glasses, shampoo and all the other necessities required. I won’t help you buy a car you can’t afford, instead I will take you to the doctor when you are sick, navigate through your medical bills, bank statements and job applications when they don’t make sense, stay up half the night when you have had too much to drink, all in hopes that someday you will learn to be independent. That you will make better choices.

I’d really rather go with you to the flea market, or bowling, out for Chinese or shopping…but instead I will work, so I can pay the bills. I’ll do the laundry, clean the house, do the grocery shopping and make sure everyone has a safe, clean and healthy place to live and thrive. A place where friends are welcome and wanted. Where birthdays are celebrated. Where accomplishments are celebrated. And failures are discussed. I’ll go to the boring school meetings, the conferences, and attend any baseball games I can fit into my work day.

And when things go wrong in your life, or you face disappointment or failure, I’ll still be here—living my boring, predictable existence. Ready to lift you up or bring you back down to reality. All the while doing my best at the hardest job I will ever take on, being your parent. So you can have a chance at a life beyond what you were born into. A life with choices. A life where you can live to be anything you want to be.

I’m your parent, I’m not your friend. And I will always be here.

It actually hurts to say that I am not your friend, because someday I sure would like to be.

In the meantime I’m right here. I haven’t changed, even though you have. I am still the reality check. The thorn in your side. The fun sucker.

The one who loves you more than you can ever imagine.

And I will remain that person, no matter how far you push me away.

Because it is my job as your parent. And I intend to be the best parent I can.

One simple act of generosity can change a life, a community and the world." ---Debbie Macomber

How many of you ever reached out with a random act of kindness; a donation, a compliment, or a helping hand and changed someone's life? Now here's a question you may not have ever considered; how has your own life been affected since reaching out to help that someone in need?

Recently I told an abbreviated version of my story at PechaKuchaGR, a venue where you are allowed exactly 6 min/ 40 sec to share your story. Until I can share that video, here is my story.

My name is Terri Spaulding and I am an average girl. At age 49 I have just begun to understand the importance of generosity and its affect on the world around me. I wanted to share my story, which I call: Living Life Outside the Bubble in hopes that it might help plant a seed of generosity in someone else.

Three years ago I reached out to help someone in need and what I have learned is that the person who was really in need, was me.

I have traveled through life on what many could call a super safe track. I'll even admit it was a ridiculously sheltered, judgmental and naive track. I followed the rules as I had been taught, worked hard, bought only what I could afford, never became a burden to anyone, and kept my nose out of trouble. I lived responsibly, and I took control. Together, my husband of 27 years and I, have created a beautiful life for ourselves and our two boys.

What I didn't realize is that a piece of me was missing, my sense of generosity. And what I didn't see coming was that when my middle class republican bubble finally burst, the life that would reveal itself afterwards, would be so much more fulfilling than I ever dreamed. I moved out of my black and white world, and into a fuller, richer life in the grey.

The group of misfits that changed my life.

According to the author of the book A Million Miles in a 1000 Years, everyone has a story, and everyone has an inciting incident that starts their "story." My inciting incident was volunteering to be a backstage mom for the high school production of Annie that my oldest son was in, at a school he was not even attending. There, my eyes were opened to a world I had known existed, but hadn't really let affect me. A world where kids were growing up far too fast, many without the support and love of parents, or people who cared, who might on any given day go hungry, or worse yet, go unnoticed.

I watched the young directors of the musical, married teachers, who were expecting their first child, work with this cast of "misfits." I was astonished at the bond the group shared, the very diverse "family" they had grown into in such a relatively short amount of time. I was even more astounded by the energy and dedication this couple exuded while doing it. I could see their impact, not only through the actions and eyes of my son, but the whole cast. There was a feeling of love that surrounded everyone involved, and the impact their leadership was having on all those lives was completely inspiring to see.

And after less than a week, when I found myself both physically and mentally exhausted, and knowing that the Morgans had spent several months working with these kids on a daily basis, I wondered aloud "Why are you doing this?"

Dan's answer is one I will never forget. He said, "because my wife and I vowed to love all children."
 

 Dan & Ella Morgan, directors of the UHS Production of Annie

And that simple statement changed my life. I felt something shift in me. A seed of generosity was planted in me. I realized that if these children were so thankful and hungry for the little bit of attention I was able to provide as a backstage mom, what could I do if I really stepped up to the plate to help someone in need?

It didn't take long until I heard a voice inside tell me that the girl playing Annie, was that someone in need for me. So, I reached out to Sadie and our world has been forever changed. Annie (or Sadie) has lived with us on and off for the past 3 years, and last fall we expanded our family to take on legal guardianship of her 16 year old brother, Jeffrey.

The changes we have made make for chaos, drama and activity in our house, at a time in our lives that Mike and I once imagined we'd be experiencing an empty nest. The house is never clean. The laundry is never done. The cupboards seem like they empty as soon as they are filled. Many days I feel like I take one step forward and two back, and nights when worry gets the best of me, and I begin to doubt my own abilities... How did I think I could take on other people's children when I can barely raise my own? 

But the good it has brought to all our lives far outweighs the times we have struggled. There will always be long lasting love that grew out of that small seed of generosity, our new family was born. Our eyes have been opened to a new perspective, and our hearts will never be the same. When people look at our situation and wonder what we were thinking by making our lives more complicated, I answer with the only explanation I have. Because it was the right thing to do. Because we could.

 Our kids: Our hope

Bursting out of that bubble and taking a leap into the unknown, not only changed my life, but the lives of my family. For the better. I appreciate more, love more, and have lived more fully each day since.

I believe each of us has the power within ourselves to reach out in kindness. That small act can start a ripple effect that could eventually change a life, or who knows, maybe even change the world. Generosity is awesome like that, it has a way of spreading. You never know when one simple act might start something big in motion.

Here's what I hope you'll take away from the sharing of my story:

• Don't be afraid to burst out of your bubble, whatever kind of bubble it is 
• Listen to your inner voice if it is telling you to help someone in need
• Practice true benevolence----give without expecting anything in return 

Oh yeah, and don't forget to tell someone if they've changed your life--you never know how that also might change theirs ----so to Dan & Ella Morgan, Mercedes (Sadie) & Jeffrey DeJesus, and the entire cast of Annie, THANK YOU for changing my life. For bringing about a change in me that I wish to be seen in the world.

"One of life's great rules is this: The more you give, the more you get." ----William H. Danforth

Everyone has a story to tell. And I believe everyone has a story worth sharing. I shared mine on my When I Grow Up Blog. If you have time, hop on over to check it out.I would love to hear yours.

Wouldn't it be great if all children grew up believing in themselves and could confidently say:

I am special. I am a promise. I am a possibility. I have a future. I have the power to change my future. I can be anything I want to be. I have hope, always hope. I am believed in. I have expectations. I have love. I am loved. I am made up of all parts of me, the good and the bad. I am important. I am necessary. I am strong. I am unique. I will fail, but I am not a failure. I make a difference. I matter. I would be missed. I have the power to inspire.

Unfortunately many won't be given that opportunity. I'd like to help change that. In fact, I am determined we need to change it. How, is the question.

I'd love to hear your ideas. Care to share any?