A Matter Of Choice

 

“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
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.
When Crap Hits the Fan

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)

 

 

 

 

 

I Guest Posted

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. 
The Journey of a 1000 Steps Begins With Just One

@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. 

From the Outside In

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.

I'm a Woman On Fire (Literally)

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.

So Why Are You Here?

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.

Where It Matters Most

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.

My Story: Living Life Outside the Bubble

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
Our Children, Our Future

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?

No Really, I Love Being A Fun Sucker

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.

Where do you find strength when life gets hard?

 

Almost 50 And Finally Comfortable In My Own Skin

I’ve got wrinkles, laugh lines, crow's feet and apparently I’ve started a collection of age spots. This year I turn one of those really big numbers you cannot forsee yourself getting to when you are a kid. The Big 5-0.

50.

Wow, what did I think life would be like at this age? Honestly, when I was a kid I thought I would be winding down at 50. After all, that is o-l-d, right? Wrong.

I really feel like I am just getting started. I may have lived more than half my life, but now it is time to make it count.

I'll start by sharing something I wish someone would have told me years ago. The importance of taking care of your skin. I learned only last year. What??? It's true. For years  I struggled with breakouts and blemishes, and I never really knew why they happened, or what to do with them when they did. In fact, I am fairly certain I actually did everything  wrong.

A good skin care system, like the one I use now, Theraderm Skin Renewal System, is what I was missing. I so wish I'd have known.

 A little box of awesomeness.

From the first time I used it, my face has felt firmer. Softer. Prettier. So the crow's feet and the laugh lines and the worry wrinkles might still be there, but now they feel so much better. And that makes me comfortable in my own skin.

Each time I have given into worry, another crease has taken up residence on my face. Each time I have laughed until I cried, I have given the laugh lines the two thumbs up to settle in. And those crow’s feet, well when my brain gets curious, or works hard to figure something out, I squint. I realize now that I must do that a lot.

But instead of wishing them away, I am choosing to embrace them. I am not a PYT anymore. I am almost-50 year old me.

My face is scarred, weathered, lived in.

But it feels better than ever.

I wish that I had learned the benefits of the 4-Step Theraderm System before last year. I might have avoided years of blemishes and breakouts, I might have come to love this face of mine, long before now.

I am not a product reviewer, I am a simply a Theraderm believer. Each spring I head north to my cottage, my happy place, and find myself in need of another complete Theraderm Skin Renewal System to leave up there. Christina, from Therapon, made this happen for me and in exchange, asked me to share my story with you. Here is the link to their website, if you do not love the way your face currently feels, I encourage you to check it out. Believe me, the 4-step process is easy, and the results are immediate.

Turning 50 with a face I now love, makes this milestone just a little sweeter.

Care to share anything you wish you’d learned long ago?
In A Perfect World...

@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; }

...I'd be a perfect mom. 
But, there is no such thing as a perfect mom.
We make mistakes, we often say and do the wrong things. We worry. We embarrass. We celebrate. We support. We expect too much. We are often disappointed. We demand the truth. We do not accept excuses. We yell. We cry. We laugh. We sigh. We get angry. We talk too much. We talk too loud. We make sense. We exert control.
And yet underneath it all, our goal is to protect.
Mothers often find themselves overwhelmed, a little stressed and a lot behind the eight ball. As a result, some days we forget to show how much we care. How much we love. How proud we are. And we fail to communicate how much we just want the best for our children.
We are after all, just human. We are not perfect.
When my children fail, I take it personally. As if it is somehow a result of something I did (or did not do) as a mother. As if it is a reflection of my parenting skills. Was it something I never taught my children? Or something I failed to show them by example? Or something I didn’t explain correctly? 
I find myself wondering if things would have turned out differently if I had been more patient, or kinder, or stronger, or if I had been a stay at home mom, like my mom was?
Don’t think you are alone if you second guess yourself and the way you have raised your kids, because I do. A lot of people do. Especially when it seems that our children have not heard us. Or when we think they should know better.
I think that between us, Mike and I have gone through every … what happens when/if, scenario we could think of. Hoping that it could prevent our kids from making mistakes we had already made, or prevent the regrets we’ve come to know.
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.
  @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; }

In my heart I know I have done my best and parented as I have, for all the right reasons; and with love in my heart. In my head, I still have a hard time not taking it personally.
We help our children grow wings, and when it is time, they either fly away or fall.
If they choose not to listen, there is little we can do, except be there to help them get back on their feet.
As I learn to accept my children and the choices they make, I sometimes think to myself, it’d be so much easier if they’d just listen to me. (Maybe I even voice thatthought aloud to those who I know will understand.) It’d be a heck of a lot easier for me anyway, if my kids would just do it my way....
But it is not up to me, and parenting is not meant to be easy. Think: hardest job ever.
What’s been the hardest thing for you in your life so far?

 

Can You Hear Your Dreams?

I like to share. Okay, "over" share even, just ask my family. Lately I feel the need to pass along what I have learned. To anyone. People I meet at events, those in line behind me at the grocery store, my kids, their friends, you name it, I share.

 I'm sorry. I can't seem to stop myself.

Last night I dreamed all night, and it was a recurring dream of sorts. I was attempting to accomplish something and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't quite get there. Every time I woke up and fell back asleep (which seemed like several dozen times) the dream would continue, but not in the same setting. It ended with the same results though, frustration, exhaustion, and impatience that I couldn't quite make whatever "it" was, happen.

In the various scenarios, I attempted to gain control over the speed and precision at which things in my dreams happened. I remember being on some kind of water ride, and if it went too fast around the corners, I saw that I might go over the edge and fall into the unknown. That fear, made me attempt to slow things down and to proceed with caution. But you can't really slow down a water ride, so when my attempts failed, and was I heading toward the edge, I'd wake up.

My subconscious has a funny way of getting back to its point though. I'd fall back asleep, and the dream would pick up at another place. I remember trekking across a college campus, rushing through crowds of people to get to the community shower, frustrated that people kept stopping me. I knew it was crucial to get in line quickly for my turn, or else I'd have to face what came next looking a mess. Once I arrived, I discovered that I had not only forgotten all my clothes, but the line for the shower wound halfway back across campus.

It makes me think now that I am on the verge of figuring out my next step, but can't quite see it yet. That frustrates me, as I have always been a planner. I like to see the future, the end goal. I like to know where I am going. Realistically I know that it is not always possible to see where your path leads.

I awoke this morning with a clear thought.

I am ready to start a new blog. The name of this one, no longer feels like a good fit.

Maybe, just maybe, Terri has finally grown up. So begins my new attempt to venture out with no plan, to navigate by gut instinct and stop trying to control my speed. I'm going to listen to my dreams, and let myself fall over the edge to see where life takes me.

Stay tuned....  

What are your dreams telling you?

He Calls Me Mom

Life can change on a dime, especially living with kids ages 16 - 22, but I'm happy to say it feels at this moment that life has turned an optimistic corner, in one area at least.

My son Jeffrey really feels like a son now. Our life together is dotted with arguments, misunderstandings, laughter, love, and private jokes, just as it should be. And he calls me mom. Yesterday on the ride up north, Mike and I were giving Jeffrey some life advice (aka part of "the talk" and our expectations), and embarrassed, he tried to shush us by saying "I know, I know ... you raised me right."

Well that did shush me, but not in the way he expected. How could he think that we have raised him right, already. It's only been a few months and I have so much more wisdom yet to impart...c'mon I'm so not done!

Then I see it through his eyes. Yeah, maybe we have raised him right in a few months. He had already done a great job all on his own. If we have managed to communicate with our actions and words (sometimes too many of them) what it means to be part of a family, then we must be doing something right. Showing Jeffrey that parents are supposed to challenge, question, celebrate, love unconditionally, and share life's little and big moments, is humbling.

And it makes me immediately sad that he had to survive so long thinking he was in it all alone, or at the very least in it with only Sadie to care about him. How great that he was led to our door, via Sadie, to be shown love and to experience hope for the first time.

I am one lucky chick to have been given this opportunity. We are one lucky family to share this experience together. I am so thankful that both Mike and I were raised "right" as well, so that we can try to pass it on. Thank you Mom and Dad S & Z for showing us unconditional love, and for parenting with insight and expectations.

Are you taking time to celebrate the successes in your life? No matter how long they last?

The Master Plan

It's hard not to be angry.

I sat and listened to them tell me that my son Jeffrey likely suffers from PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Something usually associated with war veterans, rape survivors, and kidnap and accident victims after their traumatic experiences.

How would you feel if the cause of your PTSD was your own mother? What if the depression, hopelessness and anxiety you face every day, was caused by the person who was supposed to love you the most, your mother.

How would you take that news? My reaction upon learning this, is disgust. As I sat there and listened to the results of the tests Jeffrey had taken, I alternately wanted to scream and/or cry. How can this be?

Admittedly I want to punch his mother in the face. I know, that is not the proper reaction, but it is an honest one. I cannot understand how it must be to be him, and know that life could be so different, if only. I realize now that this effort to raise Jeffrey is far more complicated that I originally thought.

And yet I am humbled that this adorable child has been led to our door, and that we are charged with the responsibility of helping him learn to deal with this, maybe even to learn to overcome it.  If our guidance and love can better equip him to navigate through life with confidence, to see an end to the dark days, then I am up for the challenge.

Am I worthy of such a charge? Probably not. I have never been a patient, accepting, non judgemental person. Ever. I always aspired to get the kind of personality test results that my sister and husband have always gotten. The kind that said you were sympathetic and kind, accepting and altruistic. Unfortunately, I have never been that person, well, maybe not until I met Sadie. She has changed me. Heck, she changed all of us. Helping her prepared us to raise Jeffrey, to accept him and to love him wholeheartedly: it was all part of a master plan.

I am thankful every day that I have a chance, actually that we have a chance, to make a difference in Jeffrey's life. He is an awesome kid with so much resilience and so much potential. It is hard to see him as a PTSD survivor, and yet he is.

My hope is that in time, Jeffrey will feel the love that we have to give, and know that it is unconditional. That we are here to help and support him, and not make life more challenging. I want to be able to lead by example, and impress upon him the importance of reaching out to help others in need. I want my biological children to learn the same thing.

I know already I am a better human being, because of meeting Sadie & Jeffrey. They are helping me become the person I have always aspired to be.

When you hear a story like Jeffrey's, what is your reaction?
Along Came Sadie, Our Trip to D.C.
Last week Sadie and I took advantage of a great opportunity. I was asked to attend a conference in Washington, D.C. If Sadie paid for her own flight and other travel expenses, she could tag along and share my hotel room for free. While I knew that I would be busy during the day, I figured she could sight see around D.C. and when my work day was done, we would meet up and hang out.

We had one huge hurdle to get over first, her fear of flying. I am not the world's most comfortable flyer myself, but I figured if I remained calm she would be fine. And for the most part she was, well, despite writing her will before we left, hyperventilating and (her almost use of the barf bag). Besides that, all was good. She is actually a great person to travel with, surviving both a 2 hour fog delay, eventual flight cancellation, and a wrong gate announcement which sent us to the completely opposite end of the Detroit airport, and all this occurred before 10 am and with no sleep for her the night before.
Fear begins to set in once we arrive at Gerald R. Ford Airport
While I wasn't worried about her fitting in with people from the conference if we met up with them later in the evenings, she was. She seems to think she is shy and says she has a hard time meeting new people. I call that complete baloney.
You be the judge...

At our first social gathering with people I barely knew, I turned around to find her playing the bongos in the hallway, then singing, then riding a cooler scooter (yes, that is what I meant), then she played bongos on the banks of the Potomac River and sang the next night, then....well you get the idea, right? Not the actions of a shy person.

What impressed me the most, was her complete ability to make a great impression in a crowd of business folks. She was awesome. I did my thing, and never had to worry about her feeling awkward or needing my help to fit in.

The lesson in this: Hiding behind statements like "I'm shy," only gives a person an excuse to be an observer of life and not a participant in life.

Yay, to Sadie for finally stepping out to live her life. I have proud heart for how much she has matured over the last three years. It is so cool to have experienced that growth firsthand, and to see that growth so unquestionably demonstrated.

She is so "not" shy (and so not using that excuse ever again with me).

P.S. Next girls weekend someone is going to have to remind me that I am old, and old people need sleep. This pic above was taken around 3:30 am. I might actually still be feeling the effects.

Are You Living a Happy Life?

Until recently I would have said, sure I am. Because I was happy in most areas of my life. My husband is rockin' cute, I have more material things than I really need (including a cottage and a boat) my kids are healthy and mostly happy, I have fantastic friends and a super cool extended family. But something still was not quite right. When I said I was happy, something was missing.

For one thing, I had lost the passion I had once had for my job. Now some people say you don't have to have passion for your job, it is after all just a job, a way to pay the bills. And maybe for a while I even convinced myself that this was true and I could handle that. I reasoned that I needed to make money, and could not afford to make a job change and take less than the level I had already achieved, even if it meant I'd be happier.

Luckily for me I came to my senses. I made a change because I realized that being unhappy at work was slowly killing me. It was sapping my energy and attracting negativity back to me. So, I made a switch.

Since the day I quit, I have never looked back. (Okay there was that one day when I was sure I could not handle the pace, but besides that, I have been super sure of my decision!)

Ask me now if I am living a happy life and I will answer with a huge "YES, I am Happy!" because I am now operating on all cylinders.

Passion, purpose + happiness.

I have a job that I love, reasonable goals to achieve to satisfy those I work for, and better yet, a sense that I belong with, and am welcomed by my colleagues. My opinions are considered, my ideas are at the very least given an audience, and best case scenario will someday be utilized. That is a dream come true for me! Combine that with digging the people I work with and for, and you have a recipe for happiness. For me anyway.

Having that happiness makes a huge difference in how I face each day. Postitive attracts positive, and I not only say this, I totally believe this. Because it has happened to me.

Reconsider my question... are you living a happy life?

And then, if need be, don't be afraid to make some changes in your life.

 

Are You An Innie Or An Outie?
No, I’m not talking about your belly button. I am talking about your benevolence. Does your disposition to do good, your generosity and acts of kindness towards others generate from an inward need or an (outward need) to make a difference in the world around you?

be·nev·o·lence

[buh-nev-uh-luhns noun

1.

desire to do good to others; goodwill; charitableness: to befilled with benevolence toward 
one's fellow creatures.
2.

an act of kindness; a charitable gift.

I used to think that I was outwardly focused because most of my life has been spent filling a hostess role, making people feel comfortable and at ease. Since I was a little girl, I have always loved bringing people together, usually centered on food or games. I can remember bugging my mom to invite her friends over for dinner and cards, because I wanted to be where the party was and knowing if it was at our house, I could be part of it.

When I grew up, opening my home and heart to others via eating, drinking and being merry was always a goal. It has forever been within my comfort zone to entertain and something I thoroughly enjoy doing. The time I spent organizing for the event, cleaning the house and preparing the food has always been a labor of love for me.
But I have come to realize that all this entertaining was still very much inwardly focused. It was still about me, and what I needed. I got just as much enjoyment out of hostessing and entertaining as my guests did in being taken care of. Which means I wasn’t being benevolent, as much as I was fulfilling my inner desire to feel needed.
My focus began to shift when I met Sadie, when I opened myself up to a person I barely knew, and literally shared my home and my heart. I have grown in ways I never expected, which explains why we now have a third son, Jeffrey. My focus, which had always been inward, shifted to consider the needs first of someone else, someone outside of my “zone”, and eventually grew to include others.
For years, the well being of my family was of utmost importance to me. I grew up believing that my mission was to take care of not only myself, but also those I love. To me that meant I would do my best to ensure I was never a burden, that I never needed a handout, that my family’s well being was my responsibility. I was so focused on that goal; I missed many opportunities along the way to give back, to enrich my life by reaching out to others. I finally listened to my inner voice when I met Sadie, and took a chance on reaching out. First, I realized I could make a difference in her life by giving her a safe place to live, undoubtedly the easiest part, and by helping her to get out of the immediate trouble she was in. What ultimately happened is something I didn’t forsee, I realized that it wasn’t enough just to share my material riches. To truly give back with an outward focus, I needed to share something even more precious: my heart.
Helping Sadie to recognize and believe in her own potential is definitely the hard part. My focus began to turn outward when I starting leading by example, imparting wisdom I didn’t know I had through my actions and words.  And here's the difference, without expecting anything in return. If I was simply being an innie and doing it for me, I would have stopped at sharing my home. Learning to share my heart, has taken more patience, faith and strength than I ever knew I had. Making me realize that true benevolence isn’t just about sharing money, or material things; it’s giving of yourself because it is the right thing to do, without expecting anything in return. 
The good news for innies who wish to be outies, is that it is never too late. Listen to that voice inside and don’t be afraid to begin a practice of generosity, even if it starts with baby steps. The great thing is, my growing “outie” focus has changed not only me, but also those in my immediate and extended family, and my hope is that it will continue to move me (and them) in positive and useful ways.
So I ask you, are you an innie or an outie?
Sadie & Jeffrey