The most advanced student in yoga class is often the one listening to their body and taking child's pose. While it's easy to spot the new students by their ego driven practice of "going for it" in every pose, honoring your body and your own rhythm is a sign of an advanced yogi. Same goes off the mat and into your life. Honor your own rhythm in everything you do.  ---FB Status from my friend (and first yoga instructor), Kimberly

Warrior 2 in the sun.

She is so right. I have been that student who completely went for it. In fact when I started almost 6 years ago, I too treated yoga like a work out class. I wanted to do it all, and do it great. Only I found out quite quickly my body wasn't wired for practicing yoga that way. Going for it was not my answer, slowing it down and honoring my own body's limitations was. I'm not flexible. I am one tight muscled chick. I am my father's daughter.

So I was completely surprised when last Christmas my dad pulled me aside to show me a book he had recently purchased at the library's used book sale. It was called Real Men Do Yoga. I laughed at first, because my dad is a true work out kind of guy. Exactly like I used to be. He never slows down enough to stretch, let alone to contemplate a yoga class or the slowness of a yoga pose. But there he was giddy with excitement about a book with a section showing yoga poses that would help improve his golf game. Well, really it showed poses that would help him improve his flexibility, but what pulled him in was the idea that he might be able to do something about his golf game. Despite having retired several years ago, with more free time to work on his golf game, his game has actually gotten worse.

Triangle on a picnic table.

He is tight muscled, goal oriented, and in phenomenal shape for his age, but he's not very flexible. He has a body like mine, long legged, long armed, and complete with a very short torso. That may not sound like a detriment, but at times it is. For example, in a golf swing you need to be loose and free flowing. Us tight muscled peeps with short torsos have a hard time loosening  up through our middle sections. It has taken me years to even begin to do a cobra properly. There is no flex in my middle.

So as he excitedly showed me the pages of his new book, it dawned on me that yoga really can be for everyone, even if you discover it late in life. Even though I am often saying it at the beginning of my yoga classes, I realized that I truly believe it. Young, old, weak, strong, flexible, tight muscled, whatever your body type, Yoga really is for everyone. And good instructors should not tell you that you should be able to go further, or kick your prop away and tell you that you don't need it, or put their hands on you to push you further into a pose. It just isn't right.

Plank on the beach.

Listen to what your body tells you. Yoga should not hurt. If something does, stop doing it and be sure to ask questions of your instructor later. Maybe they can help identify a slight modification that will help the pose feel better, or suggest an alternative. I'm certain that if they don't know the answer off the top of their head, they will get you an answer. Because good yoga instructors care about their students. And if any of them are like me, really curious by nature, we enjoy investigating and will use every question as an opportunity to learn something new to help the next student.

While the physical characteristics I inherited from my father may limit my ability to demonstrate a pose to its fullest extent, I can always make sure to demonstrate my fullest ability to do a pose (and talk my students through what it should really look like with my words.) Do what I say, not what I do. Take my very wise friend Kimberly's advice and be one of those advanced yogis in class, the one's who listen to, and heed, their own bodies.

I believe it will take you far in life, on the mat and off.

Namaste.

...because I am happy. 

I have a new job and I am so excited for what is to come.

To the naysayers who question my sanity about changing career directions in this economy, and at my age, to sell digital printing, direct mail and wide format ink jet printing, I say this: I am 100% confident in my decision. I am happy. I am excited. I am ready.

I say this with total confidence, because now that the decision is made, I can fully breathe. And it feels so good. I took my own advice. Nearly two weeks ago while we were breathing at the beginning of class, I suggested that my yoga students let something go.  On their next exhale I encouraged them to exhale something away, allowing room for something good to come in.

It totally worked. I did indeed let something go that night, something that was super hard to let go of. I let go of who I was, who I had spent almost 24 years of my life being. I let go of how I had come to define myself and the very next day I had the most positive day ever! Seemingly out of the blue, I found my new place, my new direction.

I'll share with you why I know I am headed in the right direction. This is the message I received the day after my initial meeting with my new employers:

"This is one of those rare situations in which we really don’t need to have more discussions or meetings to ruminate upon the right decision. We think that the stars have aligned properly and that you would be a fantastic addition to our unique crew here and we would be honored to have you out there in the world representing our business. "

You see, sometimes even though the path is not clear to us, it all makes sense from a higher power. My stars have aligned, my dots have connected, and I am happy.

And more importantly I have faith that this is the spot I was meant to get to, the place I am supposed to be, right now, at this moment.

And see, my toes are indeed, green.

Credit: Google Images

Okay, so I had the best day yesterday. It felt so good. I even broke a rule and texted while at a stoplight just to share it with some peeps who needed to hear something positive come out of my mouth. (Do not tell my kids about the texting part).

It started off a rainy Thursday, one of those where it is easy to give in to the grey. But, in honor of my number two New Year's Resolution, I chose to look at the positive: my car is getting a badly needed car wash in January for free from all this rain.

And then it happened. The snowball effect of positive thinking. One thing after another.

First, I got an unexpected phone call with some good news. Good way to start the day off on the right foot.

Then, I left a really great meeting (that ran longer than I anticipated, and since I had failed to fuel the parking meter properly) expected to find a ticket! There was no ticket on my car. And 3/4 through that meeting I found out that the super cool new person I was meeting with, actually knew me. I had once been her yoga instructor. Talk about a small world.

At the next stop the meter I chose to park at had time left on it. Bonus.

I got a phone call. Sadie was downtown in the rain and needed a ride. I was one block over. I hadn't seen her in what seemed like days. So ten minutes in the car with her was an unexpected gift.

I stopped for McDonald's-- my go to cheap food stop ---and the drive thru handed me the freshest fries I have ever gotten from McDonald's. And believe me, I have eaten more than my fair share (I even used to work there).

Later, I went to another great and positive meeting and left it filled with possibilities. I felt fantastic.

I smiled at everyone I encountered as I did my weekly grocery shopping (during the big Snowmageddon after work rush) and not only did the grocery store clerks all smile back at me, they chatted and genuinely wished me a great evening.

An email from a friend came in, with contact information for someone who might be willing to help me work out the blog design for my new blogs, and maybe even do it in trade. What a plus to think I might actually be able to move my ideas forward for a change. Relief.

Then came the news that Sadie got another job. No call backs, no-let-us think about its, she was hired on the spot after they passed up four others who interviewed before her. She was just what they were looking for. Awesome news.

And all this was followed by dinner (home cooked and complete with wine) at a totally awesome new friend's house. A treat for me she said...just because, who else takes care of momma? And she made tofu lettuce wraps. Did I mention I have never knowingly eaten tofu before? I loved them.

Happenstance...or just positivity? I guess a person can't know for sure, but I'm now a believer that the vibe you give off to the world, comes right back at you. 

Hello, Terri. It's nice to have you back.

Ever encounter a blast from your past that you then discover is totally relevant for your future? I have.Yesterday I was digging through some old paper files and I ran across my "Candidate's Page" from college. Ever heard of that? Although I'm sure it is not required anymore, it was necessary to complete one before you could graduate from college. The instructions at the top of the page say it should be a short story of your life, listing your family background, your precollege education, personal achievements, leadership abilities, and work experiences. It should be typewritten and in narrative form, and is limited to one page.

As I read my words from so long ago, I immediately noticed three things. 1). I wasn't a half bad writer. 2). I was pretty focused as a kid. 3). Oh, how things have changed. Back then social security numbers were also your student id numbers, and mine is right on the bottom of the page for all to see (steal).

As I find myself at a crossroads in life, I thought it might be relevant to share some highlights from this old page that really hit home with me. Most people write letters to their younger selves, talking about what they'd do differently now that they have gained perspective. In my case, it would have been more appropriate to have written a letter to my future self, reminding me of what I knew so long ago, but maybe would forget along the way.

The first line of my Candidate's Page: At eleven I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Don't you think it is kind of  ironic that I chose When I Grow Up as the name of this blog?

The second line: I started my own newspaper and called it the Charlotte Street Reporter. It sold for 10 cents and folded after two issues. Not exactly the New York Times but... (I was a writer way back when, and Charlotte is the name of the street my parents still live on).

At the very end, after listing all my accomplishments, internships and work history, I say this:

Since I've been at CMU I've learned a lot about myself and how to get along with others. I've learned to be independent and to make intelligent decisions. I've also learned that my biggest goal in life is not just to make a lot of money, it is to find a job that I can do my best at and be happy. I guess I was a pretty smart kid at eleven, I knew that the writing field was where I belonged.

Talk about knowing what is in your heart from a young age....makes me wonder if I had uncovered this Candidate's Page a few years back, maybe my own words would have sparked some immediate change of direction in my life. Maybe I would have started blogging sooner, started re-evaluating my happiness, and began to figure out where my true path leads.

As I watch my own children begin to choose their future paths, I'm relieved to learn that at 20 years of age a person can indeed know what is in their heart. As crazy as that may seem, you can know even then, what makes you the happiest. The trick is to stick with it, and not to settle. To keep on the path of  uncovering and discovering what makes you happy, even if ultimately that journey brings you right back to where it all started.

The good news:  it's never too late for any of us to get back on the right path. It might be difficult, even scary, and totally out of our comfort zones, but in the end what if it turns out to be the best thing you ever did? Wouldn't that make it all worth it? 

So "cheers" to my future self! To more writing, to rediscovering the passions in me, and to finding what makes me happy. The confidence, and optimism present in my words from 29 years ago is starting to bubble up to the surface. Watch out world, here I come again (or maybe finally).

Have you figured out your passion(s)? Please share them with me.

Ever heard of a vision board? Have you ever done one?

The key to living fulfilled is to find out what is important to you, to identify your passions and then to find a way to live with that passion in your life. The vision board experience is one way to help uncover and discover what is most important to you, and to help you visually express what you want in life. Think of it as a way to help unlock your dreams, goals and aspirations, even some that you might not have known about.

The idea behind a vision board is that you create a visual reminder of your dreams and goals. And it is based on the Law of Attraction which says: What you think... you will become, also what you put out into the Universe, will be returned to you.

A few months ago I attended a vision board workshop and created my own vision for the future. I loved the "me" time to sit back and think. In the past I have rarely allowed myself the time to consider questions like: What was I doing the last time I experienced joy? What could I see myself doing that would create more joy in my life? If money were not an issue, what would I spend my time doing?

Being a type A person, I am usually too busy getting things done to slow down and think about me. It's interesting what things you learn about yourself, your life, and your dreams for the future when you take the time to consider and reflect. 

Once you complete your Vision Board, it then serves as a visual representation/reminder of the things you want to have, be or do in your life.  Something you can refer back to when you're feeling a little off track, or lost, a visual personally created by you, that brings your dreams back into focus. 

Affirm the positive, visualize the positive and expect the positive, and your life will change accordingly.

In the past two months I have volunteered to lead a couple vision board workshops, one at Gilda's Club and one at a friend's house. Each time, not only do I enjoy making the connections with people and their stories, but I personally have come away with new things to add to my vision board.

I believe in the power of positive thinking. Do you? If you are interested in scheduling a vision board workshop, let me know. I'll even offer to lead one for free*, just for the experience!

*Certain restrictions apply of course.... send an email to terri.spaulding@sbcglobal.net if you are interested. 

How about you? Will you THINK positive in 2012?

Success is not the key to happiness.

Happiness is the key to success.

If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.

--Albert Schweitzer

The Road To....?  Photo Credit: Mercedes DeJesus

I believe that in order to be successful you need to surround yourself with a combination of champions and challengers. Those that make you "think" and those that make you "think you can do it"! Thank you to all of my champions and challengers from 2011. Your love, support, listening ears and hearts have helped me though a turbulent year of self evaluation and stress at work. While the path is still not clear, I am making progress and I intend to live the upcoming year with more joy, more passion, and more confidence than ever before.

My personal manifesto for 2012:

To be (and live) authentically, honestly & unapologetically  ME.

Today I read the book Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson, M.D.

I'm super surprised I have not read it before. I think I thought I had. I realized I have been thinking about many of the thoughts expressed in it for a while now, sans the cheese references of course. I kind of wish I had read it sooner, it might have spurred me on a bit faster in my quest to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

What would you do if you weren't afraid? (aka...What would I really love to do? The question of the past year.)

Smell the cheese often so you know when it is getting old. (In retrospect I didn't do this often enough and my cheese unfortunately got moldy.)

Movement in a new direction helps you find new cheese. (Already feeling like these are fantastic words to live by!)

When you move beyond your fear, you feel free. (In my own words, Let it go...Let it go).

Imagining myself enjoying new cheese even before I find it, leads me to it. (No wonder why I have been so excited about vision board workshops lately, they are based on The Law of Attraction.)

The Law of Attraction states that whatever you focus on, think about, read about, and talk about intensely, you’re going to attract more of into your life.

The quicker you let go of old cheese, the sooner you find new cheese. (Out with the old, in with the new, bring on those new opportunities. I'm ready).

Old beliefs do not lead you to new cheese. (I think I have said this in the last year in every which way I could possibly think of... sans the cheese reference.)

Change happens.

Anticipate change.

Monitor change.

Adapt to change quickly.

Change.

Enjoy change!

Be ready to change quickly and enjoy it again & again.

All of the above phrases were taken from the book Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson, M.D. Although at times, we all have a little Sniff, a little Scurry, some Hem and some Haw in us, we have the ability to adjust our attitudes and our ways of thinking to take control of our lives. Currently within me, Sniff and Haw are large and in charge. How about you?

Have you read it yet? Might be worth it, it's a quick read.

How many times have you smiled at yourself in the mirror while you were washing your hands only to discover that you had something stuck in your tooth? To make things worse, you'd just spent the whole afternoon smiling at everyone you met, and chatting people up because you were in such a good mood. And, no one told you. Not one person cared enough to clue you in to that little green "something" stuck in your front tooth.

Nice.

How did that make you feel? Like crap, no doubt. Embarrassed? Hurt? Perturbed?

I know I always am, perturbed that is, when no one tells me. But then again, I am the person that will tell you that you have something in/on your tooth, or that you have a bat in the cave (nice way of saying you've got a booger), or that your zipper is down.

Do I like pointing out other people's imperfections? No. 

Is it easier to just say nothing and go on my way hoping someone else will tell them? Yes.

But is that right? No, not in my opinion.

It's definitely a little awkward to alert someone if they have a problem, knowing they are going to be temporarily embarrassed. But in my opinion it's even worse not to tell them. I'll gladly feel a little awkward when I point out their shortcomings if it saves them the embarrassment of later looking in the mirror and discovering they've had some giant piece of broccoli stuck in their tooth all day, and no one has told them.

I would never want anyone to feel that I didn't care enough about them to clue them in.

Heck, I tell complete strangers if they have toilet paper stuck on their shoes. Or that their skirt is tucked into their nylons and their behind is hanging out for the world to see, and I once even told someone they had a little blood on their pants....(if you know what that is code for). I consider it a random act of kindness when I say something to a stranger. I consider it a sign of respect when I tell someone I know.

And I cannot tell you how extremely thankful I am when someone cares enough to tell me.

So think about it. Do you tell? Will you tell? When in doubt, think about this...am I treating others the way I would wish to be treated?  If you'd want to know, then next time, do the right thing, and tell them....

To live a joyous life you have to know who you are, and, who you aren't. --(Paraphrased from Father John's homily at Holy Spirit Catholic Church today).

Photo Credit: Terri Spaulding

It has been a rough week (or so) at our house. 

Yesterday we had to have a long talk with Sadie about her attitude, her direction, and her treatment of this family. Contrary to what my children may think, confrontation is really "not my thing". But sometimes the only way to go forward is to deal with what is on your plate. So we had to deal.

In knowing who I am, I know I cannot continue along the current path with Sadie. Her history with us has been filled with extreme ups and downs, and we have been known to say.. it is "always something" when talking about life with her.

The adoption idea might have been a mistake on my part. In truth I didn't really expect her to want us, but I wanted her to know how much this family loves and cares for her. Maybe we scared her. Maybe she thought we wanted to change her. Maybe it was just too much for her to handle. Whatever the case, she has pulled away... again.

That in itself is nothing new, but because it is the holidays, it seems a little harder to take. When everyone is supposed to be experiencing joy....the fact that she is not feeling any joy herself, nor is anyone who lives with her feeling any joy from her, it's difficult to stop her mood from bringing us down, too.

During our discussion yesterday, she admitted that she would like us to kick her out. Ouch. As if there are better things awaiting her. As if we really don't matter all that much. Double ouch. But it is not like this is a new feeling for us. We continually feel the sting of being last on her list.

However, in knowing who I am not, I felt I had to say something.

I am not a person who can give and give and give and get nothing back. I am not a person who will let one person's inability to move forward bring a whole family down. I am not willing to let her ruin my holiday spirit, nor that of my family's. And I am not going to let her attitude take away the opportunity to have my boys (all four of them) together to celebrate a Christmas filled with joy. Joy at being together, in belonging together and in being stronger together, as a family should.

So she has a choice to make. We will not kick her out. That would be too easy, for her. Although I have thought about it, it is not what any of us wants. We do, however, acknowledge that it is a very real possibility that she will leave us, and soon. Maybe in her heart she already has. But it will have to be under her own power, as her choice, when she walks out with her things. And it will be against our best judgement, again. But that has never stopped her before.

Will that mean she is still welcome here for the holidays? Heck, yes. Will that mean we will miss her? Yes, most definitely yes. Will that mean things will be better without her around? No, absolutely positively our hearts will hurt from missing her. This I know for sure. Will we stop worrying or stop caring? Never.

But when you love someone, you sometimes have to let them go (again) and if they return to you, (then this time) maybe they'll remain yours. I'm paraphrasing one of my favorite quotes ever here.

I know who I am. I am a person who loves deeply, who cares deeply, who believes in second (and sometimes third and fourth) chances. I am a person who knows that unless something changes inside Sadie, and she starts believing in herself, she will never be truly happy in her life. Wherever that life is, and whomever it is with.

My Christmas wish for Sadie is that she finds joy in her life: that she figures out who she is, and who she isn't. And that when she does, she will begin to be truly happy, to be able to live joyously.

Normally not one to quote the Bible, this verse just really struck a chord with me, as did today's mass. So, I'm sharing. May Peace be with your spirit.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. …The Lord is near.

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things….and the God of peace will be with you.


–Philippians 4.4-9

Courage does not mean that you possess the strength to carry on. Courage means that you will carry on when you feel that you no longer have the strength.

Photo Credit: Terri Spaulding

I saw this status when I opened up facebook this morning. Maybe it was an answer to last night's prayers asking for the strength to get through the funk I am in. Maybe it was just what I needed to hear to find the courage to plow through my current problems and face my fears. After struggling through another sleepless night, and waking up to the same sad, scared, tears-really-close-to-the-surface-feeling I have experienced for the last couple of weeks, I am ready for a change. I do not want to feel like this anymore. It sucks.

I believe in being honest. So I will tell you that my blog has been quiet because I haven't been myself. I don't know what people who suffer from depression feel like, so I won't say that is how I have been feeling, but I think it might be close. I will say I am stressed, beyond any kind of stress I have ever felt before. Emotional is not a strong enough word.

It stems from me feeling like a failure. At work. I was hoping by now that I would feel differently, I've certainly tried hard enough. But a year after I began my quest to find my place within a changing industry and a stagnant company, nothing has changed. Honestly it has gotten even worse, for me. Because now that I have tried so hard, and beat myself up every step of the way trying to make sure I was doing the right things, and recognizing it hasn't worked, I now I feel that I have indeed failed. Not a feeling I am used to.

This feeling of failure is the last thing I think about before I go to sleep, what I think about during the night when I cannot sleep, and what awaits me when I wake up in the morning. It permeates everything I do. It is wrecking one of my favorite times of year. It is wrecking the joy I feel being around my own family. I have to make it stop.

I hate feeling uncertain, unappreciated, unsure, heck, unwanted. I hate that there is a now a knot in my gut all day long. I was foolish enough to think that people at work would see how hard I was trying. That by me finding the courage to take some chances and think outside the box, it would count for something. That someone in management would appreciate and recognize the lengths I was willing to go to find a solution.

Instead my value to the company is even more in question. So much so, I felt like I was summoned to a meeting to get my walking papers last week. I didn't, at least not yet. That is never a nice feeling to experience, but it is especially hard for me because our family size has recently increased by two. At this moment in my life, my continued contribution to the family income, is crucial.

Why is it that after doing a job for almost 24 years, my opinion does not matter to those in charge? Why is it that after continually attempting to share ideas, and implement them, I am questioned about what I actually do, what my role is? Whose fault is it that I am in a "grey area"? Why am I asked after 12 years with this company to write my own job description and responsibilities to clear up the confusion about what I do? That is in my opinion, just backwards and at the very least determining my job responsibilities should be a joint effort, a shared conversation.

If no one can see any value to what I bring to the table, then somewhere I have made a crucial error. Or, I am indeed, just a failure. Did I fail to advocate for myself? Yes, I thought actions spoke louder than words. Did I fail to make sure I achieved proper recognition? Yes, because I thought it was wasting the company’s time and something I did not need for myself. Am I motivated differently than my management? Yes, I have never been motivated by money, in a sense that I would abandon what I thought was important for the overall effort and team, just to make more money myself. Do I set high standards for myself? Yes, higher than you can imagine, higher than anyone else ever could.

Job satisfaction, passion for what I do, and joy for me, come from feeling that I make a difference. That is what motivates and inspires me. I always want to do better. Clearly I have failed to make the difference in my workplace that I so hoped I could. Shame on me, for allowing myself to fail to matter. Shame on the company for not caring enough to help me be successful.

I have failed. But I am not a failure.

And now that I've just faced one of my biggest fears, and the world did not end, I will gather up the courage to carry on. This blog will no longer remain quiet. I promise to once again begin to succeed at something, and from that step, I will achieve success again. I will matter.

When one door closes, another opens.

If you find yourself in a situation similar to mine, maybe these quotes will comfort you.

He who loses wealth loses much; he who loses a friend loses more; but he who loses his courage loses all.
- Miguel de Cervantes

Have the courage to face a difficulty lest it kick you harder than you bargain for.
- Stanislaus

Here at the Spaulding house, we bust out the karaoke stuff any chance we get. I love it when people come over and say they can't sing and won't do karaoke, they'll just watch.

Yeah, right. Who can resist?

Most people end up at the microphones, (we have 6) sometimes we cannot even get them to leave the microphones. And that brings joy to my heart (well, not the hogging the microphone part, but the people opening up and being comfortable enough to do something outside of their comfort zone).

Now for the record, I am not a singer. I love karaoke in my basement. I love to sing karaoke in my basement. I don't sound like a singer, I sound like a karaoke "er", and not a good one at that. But that is what makes karaoke the great equalizer. When you stand by someone who can sing, you blend right in! Perfect. The overall sound, if you have some good singers sprinkled into the mix, is decent. Sometimes even great. And when people who drop by hear that not everyone is a good singer, but it still sounds okay, it gives them courage to try it as well.

How fun is it to be able to sing your heart out with those you love?

I consider it one of life's greatest pleasures. I hope no one around here ever tires of it.

There are few things you should consider if you want to host a karaoke party.

It sometimes takes a "dj" type approach to get things going. So you should have a list of "go to" songs, ones that can easily be sung, whose words and tunes are well known, and that work for a variety of voices.

Some crowd pleaser suggestions:
All American Rejects: Dirty Little Secrets
The Foundations: Build Me Up Buttercup
Train: Soul Sister
Train: Drops of Jupiter
Jimmy Eat World: The Middle
Fountains of Wayne: Stacy's Mom
Hinder: Lips of An Angel
Liz Phair: Why Can't I
Cheap Trick: I Want You To Want Me
Journey: Don't Stop Believing

Artists to avoid:
Back Street Boys, N' Sync, Boyz to Men; Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, Neil Diamond or Elton John

Something you may not know:
Singing most Taylor Swift songs leaves you breathless. (There are about 6000 words in every song she writes, how does she sing them without getting dizzy?) I might actually have come close to fainting while singing You Belong With Me & Love Story a few times.

I understand the fear about doing karaoke in the real world, but karaoke in your own home, is a NO brainer. Singing is good for soul. Singing with those you love, is good for the heart.

What about you? Will you come and karaoke with us?

There are turning points and there are turning points. One of the biggest in my life happened behind the stage at a high school production of Annie. Alec was in the musical, his first ever, and asked if I would volunteer to be a back stage helper the week of the show. Little did I know, after that experience, my life would never be the same.

I am forever changed by the cast, crew and directors of the 2009 UHS production of Annie. Or as I like to think of them, as the little family that could.

I‘m pretty sure that I, a 47-year-old mom of two, grew up backstage amidst the craziness of that little show. Somewhere between the first time hearing the orphans sing “It’s A Hard Knock Life”, and the last rendition of “Tomorrow”, I let go of the stereotypes, fears and insecurities I had held onto since I was a teenager.

I have mentioned before in this blog that I came from a very middle class, protected, naïve kind of childhood. My biggest stress growing up was whether or not I got A’s, and having to wear braces, twice. The kids I met in Annie had lived more life in their short years, than I ever had. Maybe ever will. And when I normally would have shied away from them, feeling awkward and inadequate, I was instead forced to just deal. They needed me, and it was the best thing ever. For once I didn't allow the fear of people being different, to deter me from making new friends.

As I watched the group of “misfits”, okay they weren’t really misfits, but it kind of felt like that, bond through each performance, I found the lump in my throat getting harder and harder to swallow. It was such an honor to watch a great thing happen. The kids grew closer after each show, finding themselves stronger together, than they ever were apart. It was awesome.

Alec as FDR.

I may have even found myself a little jealous of that bond, and certainly a lot envious of their talents.Throughout the production, they'd lost several cast members, even Daddy Warbucks had to be replaced late in the rehearsal schedule. Yet somehow, the show just went on. Alec himself went from being a chorus member, to having about 4 other parts, many of them with lines to speak and even a mini solo. So, the “misfits” as I lovingly call them, just made it work, even calling the director, Daniel, into playing a pivotal role in the second act.

Daniel probably doesn’t even know that he was the catalyst that started a huge change in me. Backstage amidst the stress and chaos, he calmly told me that he and his wife, Ella had vowed “to love all children.” And I could see that despite his being stressed out and exhausted, he truly believed this whole production was worth it...for the kids. He was so right.

That simple statement, from a young, dedicated teacher (and soon-to-be first time dad), changed my view on life. Period.

If you knew him you might wonder how a confident, outspoken, opinionated hard head like Dan, changed my view on life. There is no easy explanation for why. He just did. It was an aha moment for me. I was either ready for the change, or he might just have been brilliant. All I know is, from that point forward, my life has been on a different course. A better course.

Our Sadie as hispanic Annie.

Without Annie, there would never have been a Sadie, or eventually a Jeffrey. Nor a John, Emily, Leanna, Amber, Katie, Eric or Tomas. (I should actually list every name from that musical as contributors to the person I have become.)

Thinking of the multiple personalities we had behind that stage, how far everyone came in their journey, and how brave everyone was, still chokes me up. I wondered why I cried the final night of the show… I see now it was because I knew I had experienced one of life’s small miracles. The kind that happen out of the blue and cannot be re-created, ever. The ones you least expect and forever treasure.

Thank you Dan and Ella for believing in the kids, and the show, and for giving me the opportunity to be part of it. Thank you cast of Annie for opening my heart. For helping me find the patience, love, and understanding that was always inside me.

I will never forget you. Ever.

I was asked recently for advice about bringing your significant other home for the holidays for the first time. It got me thinking about what it will be like someday when one of my kids brings home someone new. Here's my "take" from a mother's perspective.

Okay, so you are bringing your (insert) boy or girl friend home for the holidays.

I’ve known this day would come. A day when you branched out on your own, and brought someone new into our holiday celebration.

I’ve known it would happen, but that doesn’t mean I am ready to accept it. Not yet.

I, once again, should have prepared myself better.

I’m scared. What if I don’t like him/her? What if I see something totally different in them than you do? What if I think this person is not a good fit? What if I am looking for flaws… and I find them? What then? How am I supposed to handle that? How am I supposed to be a good hostess if my heart isn’t in it?

You see, I want someone to be perfect for you. To love you like no other, to treat you with respect, to bring out all your good qualities and to equally accept your bad. I want someone who believes in the same things that you do, heck the same things our family does, and who inspires you to be a better person for yourself first, and then for them.

And can I just say that I really want to like this person?

The truth is, and I know this, it is out of my control. It doesn’t matter if I don’t like them, or they don’t like me. This is about you. This is about what makes you happy.

So the best advice I can give you is this: when you bring this important person home to meet your family, and me, make sure it is really worth my time. Show me that you have done a little homework, and thought this through. Convince me with your attitude and actions that this person is someone who deserves to be here. That this isn’t some person you just met, some fledgling romance. Make me see why this person is special to you.

If you do that, you are more than halfway to convincing me that this will be okay. That the holidays with someone new in the mix, can be just as comfortable as the one’s of old----and maybe, just maybe, even a little bit more special seen through the eyes of someone new.

Image courtesy of: theobjectworks.com

It was only a matter of time.

I had known the day would come. I had done my part to prepare for it, but to no avail. I wasn't really surprised, no one in Sadie's family believes in planning ahead, so why should she.

I clearly remember her saying "I never get sick, I just don't. Nothing's going to happen to me."

As I stood at the counter in the urgent care facility, I was hating the fact that on every form we were required to fill out, I was considered a nobody.

Who was I (to Sadie) they asked? She might have wanted to answer, an "almost mom," a friend, a mentor but in the eyes of the world, those things meant nothing. To them, I was no one.

Just a physical address on a form. It felt weird not having a box to check, or a place to write an explanation of who I am to Sadie. To explain that she lives with us, is a vital part of our family, is my almost daughter, and is loved. A lot.

Not having an official title when it comes to our relationship does not stop me from loving her like my own. Or from getting frustrated at her like I do my own. I worry about her just as much as I do the boys. Maybe even a bit more.

As I sat outside the exam room and remembered her words, nothing's going to happen to me, I realized I should have been more diligent about making sure she got her insurance squared away. I should have insisted she found out if she was indeed covered under her family's insurance policy, and got a copy of their card. Only thing is, it isn't just her I need to get squared away, it's also her family. They are the ones with the authority and the rightful titles. Mother, Father, Adoptive parents. Unfortunately when the chips are down, they usually are no where to be found.

I should be angry, but I'm not. I'm sad. Sad for Sadie that it must feel sometimes that she is alone in this world, and worse yet, that she had to feel that way growing up. Sad that her adoptive family, who was supposed to guide and teach her for all of the 18 years before I met her, didn't do their job properly. They may have tried, but in reality it wasn't enough. She deserved better. 

She deserves better.

I checked into it. There is adoption for adults. This week we asked if she'd let us adopt her. She's thinking about it.

She doesn't just live here....she is one of us. We want to make it official.

And selfishly, I want to be able to check my name by the box that says "mother."

I had lunch with my friend Mary last week and she's got me collecting kernels. It's brilliant.

She shared with me that each time she meets up with me for coffee, she takes away a kernel from our conversation to think about. Last week it was the concept of being real.

Something I talk about a lot. With my kids, my friends, my blog readers, heck, everyone.
That part isn't the story. It's that Mary is right. So many times I meet with people and come away with a "kernel". A new perspective, a new word to think about, a situation to see the other side of, an inspiration, an idea. That is why I love face to face conversations. There is nothing like seeing how someone reacts to you and what you have to say in person.

I have been really tired for over a week now, and I wouldn't want it any other way. My kids have wanted to talk....to me. Awesome. I will never turn down the chance for some deep conversation with one of my kids, it's that connection that I love. The chance to take a kernel from them in every conversation we have, and hope they in turn take one from me.

It's the way communication is supposed to be.

Mike and I have been given the great pleasure of shaping the lives of four fantastic kids. I get goosebumps sometimes watching them "get it", and learn to tackle one issue at a time. But I'm a realist remember, so that means I have just as many "are you kidding me moments", as I do good moments. It feels like there is at least one crisis a day.  This completely scares the crap out of me.

I start every day with a plan of what I want to accomplish, but most of it rarely happens. I've come to realize that when someone wants to talk, I'd better be listening. There is no waiting until tomorrow. The time to listen is right now.

So, I'm tired but I'm connected. And, I wouldn't want it any other way.

Are you making an effort to listen to your kids? How many times do you take away a kernel?

I'm beginning to think I can never go away for the weekend again. Every time I do something happens with hair.

Last June when I came home from my trip to a paper mill, I found Sadie had attempted to dye her hair in a pattern of colors. I was not exactly sure what to say when I saw what she had done...the boys jumped right in and solved that one for me, they started calling her Skittles. As in, her head looked like an open bag of Skittles. It was interesting, and awful, all at once. Luckily it didn't last long... and after spending almost $100 at Panopolous for a cut and redye job, all was well again.

This is the only photo I could find of her hair. I snatched it from 

her FB page. Pretty sure I was too shocked to take any. 



When I arrived home from the TML retreat today, after being gone all weekend, I found that my "boys" had all made a pact. To ruin my hopes for a perfect Christmas photo. Here is what was waiting for me.

Does Mike look innocent to you? His head was shaved with a #2 guard.

Mitch & Jeffrey: Mohawks or Peacocks?

Alec and his shaved head. Can you say b-o-u-n-c-e-r?

They are kinda cute...

Let's just say it worked, all hopes for that perfect family photo have successfully been dashed. The pact? To band together to create crazy hair so mom won't want to take a Christmas photo. So, Mohawks for (Mitch and Jeffrey), a buzz cut for (Mike), and a shaved head  for (Alec). Fantastic.

See what I live with? Sadie was glad I arrived home when I did, they were coming after her ponytail with the scissors next.

Oh, and  in case anyone was wondering. Mike was in charge. (He did Jeffrey's hair and fixed Mitch's mohawk.) Joke's on them though, I am still doing a Christmas picture, hair or no hair.

How honest are you really?

Do you share the real "you" to the world, or do share only what you want others to see?

I've had several discussions lately about what it means to be a realist. I consider myself one. To me that means being honest, putting yourself out there and owning up to all parts that make up "you", the good with the bad.

And let's face it, life isn't always pretty. A belief in the positive is beautiful, and seeing the positive in difficult situations is a fantastic trait. I wish I had more of that ability sometimes. But to create the illusion that your world is perfect, when it might not be, even if it is your way of convincing yourself to feel better about it, is not healthy. For anyone.

Have you ever met a person who is so darn happy that when they talk about their life, their wonderful husband, their perfect kids, their ideal job, instead of making you feel happy for them, it makes you feel kind of bad about your own situation? A why don't I feel that way, maybe something is wrong with my life kind of feeling?

I've learned over the years that in reality, many of those people who constantly paint a perfect life picture are really only trying to convince themselves. The reality of their situation, may be entirely different.

So I encourage you to ask yourself the question, am I living honestly? Or am I living in half truths, spinning only the positive to the world? 

This video from Robin at Farewell Stranger is a perfect example of owning up to the real you. Her story is as real as it gets. She's flawed. She struggles. And yet, she keeps going, and as she does, she inspires the rest of us to take the steps we need to get to our own real. Thank you for sharing the good, the bad and the real, Robin. You inspire me.

http://tedxtalks.ted.com/embed/player/?layout=&playlist_cid=&media_type=video&content=L0YYPL33B9YKNHSR&read_more=1&widget_type_cid=svp

 So are you being honest? What are you hiding from the world? Imagine if you had the courage to get something off your chest, and to let it go. How much better would you feel?

My cake from Mother's Day 2011--thank you Sadie.

It's always the little things that stop me in my tracks.

Now, I don't pretend to be a perfect anything. In fact, I often screw up, and badly (just ask my family).

But confirmation that Mike and I have done the right thing, about adding Sadie and Jeffrey to our family, makes me want to do a little dance. There is something about watching my children become a family, bringing out the best in each other, and bonding, that is beyond cool.

A few weeks ago I came home to find that Mitch and Jeffrey had decided to share a bedroom. It might have had something to do with the fact that Mitch actually cleaned his room (a little) and showed Jeffrey that there was indeed an upper bunk under all those guitars. We had put off asking our boys to consider sharing their rooms, or making any other sacrifices, in order to keep the status quo. Turns out they took matters into their own hands, and worked it out for themselves. Because they wanted to.

How cool is that?

Mitch and Jeffrey are like two peas in a pod. Mitch has always wanted to be a big brother. I think he started asking for a little brother when he was about four. So having Jeff come along as his "little brother", is kind of perfect. He relishes the big brother, "I know better", role.

The other day Jeff was a bit stressed because he had some English homework. He was writing a short story, and Mitch was assisting him.

Now, Mitch is not my writer. He counts words. What I mean by that is, he looks at the requirements of the assignment, and counts the words until he is done "writing". It has less to do with quality, and everything to do with the "getting it done" using the required amount of words. Or at least that is how it has always seemed to me.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived home from work and heard Mitch telling Jeff:

"Dude, you cannot start every sentence in your story with I." 

"These transitions suck, think of some other words you can use".

"Listen to this sentence, as he proceeds to read a run-on sentence that goes for half the page, it's way too long."  

I had to stare. It might even have been an open mouthed stare. Who the heck are you and where is the real Mitch?

Apparently, although he has never welcomed or even acted like he has heard any of my suggestions about his own writing, he grasped enough to help Jeff. And weirdly enough, Jeff listens to Mitch.

There is a new meaning of the word brother around our house now, and that makes "all this" 100% worth it.

I am one lucky mom.

I cried again tonite. It happens often. Usually when I talk about open hearts. You see I lived most of my life with a not-so-open heart. It was...just the way I was. I don't think you would say I was mean or rude or unapproachable, I was just, clueless. I lived in a bubble.

A middle class, white collar, republican, bubble. I did what I was supposed to, and I took care of my own. That is how I was raised, to be hard working, dependable, honest, self sufficient, and focused. Now, there's nothing wrong with that, but, I was missing something.

I was missing my heart.

I found my heart when I met Sadie. Why? there is no explanation that makes any sense. She needed me, or maybe more importantly, I needed her.

When Alec first told me what he was interested in a girl from Union High School's musical, a Hispanic girl at that, (I believe I actually referred to her as Mexican then ), I reacted like I was my mother. I questioned her motives, her character, her family, her everything, because her name was Mercedes DeJesus. And to me that sounded different, and different was not good.

Ouch. She didn't deserve that, and neither did he. He is a smart kid. He knows someone special when he meets them. And I should have known that my worries and my reaction were 100% ridiculous. But I didn't.  I gave him the lecture about being careful, about not sharing too much information anyway. And he laughed at me.

I am embarrassed to admit I even asked if she was in a gang, and warned him about the dangers of her asking for money from him. As if she would ever do that.

For all the self esteem issues Sadie has had in life, when she first met me, she held her own. She was not only likeable; but memorable and she had "moxie".

mox·ie  Slang. 1.vigor; verve; pep. 2.courage and aggressiveness; nerve. 3.skill; know-how.

Yeah, truth time. I wanted to be like Sadie.

She met our friends Mark and Barb, kind of spur of the moment, at their house, soon after I had met her for the first time. Can I just say that Mark scares me sometimes, and I've known him for years, but she held her own. She gave back everything he threw at her: attitude, humor, savvy. I will admit that even I cave under pressure when he is in a mood, and end up feeling less than confident about myself.

But Sadie was brilliant.

I think that was the turning point for me. I went from questioning her, to loving her. Just like that. (Okay so she did get in the car the first time I met her and asked Alec, how come you didn't tell me your parents were so young? That did help, a little.)

When my heart opened and I saw who she really was, I realized that not only was she a strong person, but she was her own person, a person destined for greatness, despite her situation. I so wanted to be like her.
Her strength, gave me strength. And from that day forward my life has been something it never was, something better that it ever was, and something that I can now be proud of.

Thank you Sadie, for awakening in me, the heart I never knew was there.

Half full or half empty? That depends on your point of view.

I wrote the post below last spring, about the time Sadie was preparing to move out of our house again. This time, to live with her birth mother and little brother. About three weeks before she was planning to leave, she started acting strange. Usually this is a sign she is unsure if the next big life change she is planning to make, is the right thing. But instead of being able to talk it out, she clams up. I wrote this because I was hurt, mad, worried and frustrated with the situation, but I also knew there was little I could do. Instead of confronting her, which hardly ever works, I wrote my feelings out, and in doing so, was able to let it go and move on.
 
My not sharing how I felt with Sadie at the time, worked a lot better than talking it out like I wanted to do. She needed to live it, to learn it. That's a really hard thing for a problem solver and a communicator like me to do. But it proved to be a valuable lesson for us both to have learned. Her short period of moving out to live with her mother, brought her and Jeffrey back to live with us, so it was not a mistake at all, but a life lesson we both needed to experience.

I'm sharing this now, just in case it might help remind someone reading that there are always two sides to a story. The person you are in conflict with, has feelings, too. Sometimes trying to see the situation from their point of view can give you some helpful insight into how to move forward. Even if that insight shows you that what you need to do may be the hardest thing ever, to remain silent.

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The following was originally written on June 10, 2011 but never posted.

I get it. I'm not dumb, this is like a break up. Make me the bad guy, so it is easier for you to leave.

I'm the older, wiser and stronger one. So, I suppose I can take it.

But it doesn't make it hurt any less.

You don't belong to me. You choose to love me (or right now, maybe you choose not to love me).

Not "officially" belonging to me, makes you react differently towards me in times of trouble. When you are in a mood or upset, your first instinct is to run. Maybe not in a physical sense, but in an emotional one. You clam up. You distance yourself. You pull away.

Here's how it feels from my end when this happens.

Hey, I need a ride. Hey, I need my laundry done. Hey, I need help with this.

But hey, when it is my turn, and I ask what is wrong when you are obviously acting different, and have been acting different for a couple of weeks now, you say nothing.

Nothing. As in you clam up. You ride in the car next to me and you are silent. Making me feel as if I have done something wrong. That somehow I have failed you, disappointed you, or done what others have done to you in the past.

How is it so easy for you to shut me out?

You won't say how you feel. Okay I get that. But lately you don't even answer my questions with truthful answers.You know how I feel about the truth. Good, bad or otherwise, it is always better than a half truth, which is really just a lie in disguise.

You save your thoughts for someone else you also "choose" to love. Someone who always says what you want to hear. I can't do that. And it's because I love you.

When you are upset, and acting like a person I don't recognize, I dig to find out what is wrong. To "help" you sort things out and get to the root of your problem, even if in the end my only option is just to offer support and love, and a safety net. Not to actually solve your problem.

Your reaction when I dig, is not one of relief, or gratitude, it is to clam up. To shut me out.

I'm not your mother, I've got that part figured out by now. But sometimes I feel like I am not really a friend either, because real friends care about each other.

They don't run or clam up when the going gets tough. They sit and talk it out. Until they are on the same page, even if that same page is to stand on different sides of an issue.

Here is what I want to say to you right now, but won't, because I know from experience that it will just make you more mad. Instead, I will write out my feelings, so that I can release them, and move on.

I am who I am. Faults. Strengths. Rights. Wrongs. And you are who you are as well.

Go ahead and leave now. That is what you want. You want me to "push" you away because you know this is not going to be an easy transition for you. So let me be the scapegoat again, I survived it last summer, I can survive it again.

Give your real mom another break and another chance. Because this time she might be telling the truth. She might actually put your needs first for once. She might act like the mom and not the child, and take care of you rather than take from you.