Inspired by a Pop-in.

A friend I haven't seen in months just did the random pop-in this afternoon.  And just seeing her face and giggling with her for a few minutes made my day.  Sometimes I forget how wonderful it is to be blessed by so many wonderful friendships, and I am only reminded when something out of the ordinary happens, like Kimi stops over in the middle of the afternoon while I'm cutting up strawberries and I almost don't answer the door because I'm afraid it's a Jehovah's Witness or someone trying to sell me some milk.  Just her 20 minute visit reminded me that I have so many wonderful, caring, fun friends in my life, and I just feel so blessed to have these friendships.

I don't know that I would realize just how lucky I am if I hadn't abandoned everything I knew before to move across the country to live "someplace pretty and peaceful."  Because I remember having what Rick Godwin calls "The Oh God Moment."  Feeling so alone and so afraid and so... stupid.

I had just dropped off my 'known each other our whole lives' best friend at the airport in Denver after she had driven across the country with me from Michigan.  And driving back up to Estes Park, I thought, Oh God. I don't know anyone here.  What in the world did I just get myself into.  I just left everyone I have ever loved and everyone who has ever loved me to come out here to the mountains and clean toilets?  What was I thinking?  Why did I do this?  Why am I here?  What am I going to do?  How am I ever going to make any friends or meet a husband or...?  Oh shit.  What did I do?  What did I just do?


Oddly enough, as the road began to get winding and more interesting, and the beauty of the mountains began to unfold, I remembered, Oh yeah.  I'm here because this is beautiful.  And I have room to breathe... and adventure awaits.


And Colorado has never been any different than that to me.  It has been lonely at times through the past 8 years I've lived here, but it has never ceased to be beautiful and adventurous and a great place to be able to breathe... even though my father always says otherwise...

But it has also been so interesting in terms of making friendships, this living in a place without family, living in a place where I started out with zero friends.

I have one friend who grew up here, her husband grew up here, and both of their parents still live close by.  And every time I have a party, she always asks, "How do you know all of these people?"  And I don't know how I know them, I just meet them, and I like them, and I tell them that we should be friends.  And then we are.  And then I make them come over and have dinner.  And then I make my kids play with their kids and all of a sudden I'm throwing a party and I just want to invite the whole world over and make them all be my friends.  I sound a little like Dorie from Finding Nemo... 'I will take you home, and you will be my squishie."  Then again, Dorie and I have a lot in common... Forgetful, willing to just go along on an adventure, and if I get caught in something I'm leery of, I 'just keep swimming...'

There's no real point to this blog today, except maybe to say that I'm really grateful for you, friends.  And I'm glad I moved across the country, because it's beautiful here, I can breathe, and... adventure awaits.

Lost My Balance, Found Seasons Instead.

There is so much talk in the world today about "finding balance."

Well, I'm just feeling so unbalanced lately... I really need to just even my life back out.
'My life will be so much better when I find a man who balances me.'
I need to find a balance with my job...

Blah blah blah blah...

Either I am way more like my father than I care to admit or "having a balanced life" is pretty much a load of garbage.  Much like the load of garbage sold to young girls about there actually being a perfect man out there in the world.  Or the load of garbage sold to teenage boys that Axe Body Spray makes beautiful women want you so much their clothes fall off when you walk by.

My life has never been "balanced."  And I don't ever foresee it being that way.  I am passionate.  And I am a visionary.  And I am an artist and a mother and a wife and a triathlete and a Christian and a friend and a sister and a professional presenter and a teacher (kind of) and a cook and a laundry-doer and a coupon-clipping grocery shopper and a DGL Coordinator and a...

And if I fit my definition of "balanced," I would be able to wake up at 4 am to write for 3 hours before the kids wake up, do a load of laundry every day (yes, get it into and out of the washer and dryer, folded, ironed, put away...), do the dishes directly after every meal, have the dishwasher unloaded and ready to have dishes put in it, have a healthy breakfast, lunch, and dinner, work out to train for a triathlon for 1.5 hours every day, play with my kids every day.  Teach them something every day.  Read every day.  Clean every room of the house once a week.  Volunteer at the nursing home once a week.  Present for MOPS once a month.  Present for CollegeBoard once a month.  Spend time talking or participating in an activity with my husband every day.  Call my mother, father, brothers, sisters-in-law once a week.  Get Daniel to school on time with his hat and mittens and snowpants. Remember everyone's birthdays and send them cards on time. Plan ahead enough to take a decent family picture for Christmas cards before Christmas Day rolls around.  Spend time with friends.  Go to play dates a couple times a week.  Go to church.  Volunteer at church.  Be in a book club.  Be in a writer's group. Blog....

Balance, to me, means that I am able to do all of the things I love AND all of the things I have to do just to get by.

And, you know what?

There are 24 hours in a day. I am a raging lunatic if I don't sleep.  And something's gotta give.

If I am going to ever finish this book, then my kids will wake up some days with no clean clothes; the dishes will sit in the sink until Jeff comes home; dinner will be something I can make in 15 minutes, the amount of time that I spend working out will be much less than the amount of time I spend drinking coffee and staring at a blank computer screen, and sometimes I will forget the Hershey Kiss roses we made for Danny's teacher.

And when the book is written, I will spend a large amount of time working out, training for a tri.  And I won't write.  And then it will be baseball season and Jeff will be gone lots of nights, and I'll drag the boys to a bunch of baseball games...And after the tri is done, then it will be August, and I will present for the CollegeBoard in Texas all August long.  And then I won't have written for a couple of months and I'll feel all "unbalanced" because I'm not using my brain.  So I'll seek out several groups of people to help me use my brain...

And this is just how life is.  Season after season... Busy with everything, then bored and lonely with nothing.  And chasing after balance just makes me feel like I'm doing it wrong.

But I don't think I'm doing it wrong.  I am just doing my best to live the life that God gave me.

And that looks more like  Ecclesiastes 3. 1-8 than as my friend, Matt Colley says, "a rolling ball of zen in a world of chaos."

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
With that, I will stop this pointless chasing after balance and just live trying to get the timing right... Healing when it is Healing's season, Laughing when it is Laughing's season... Writing when it is Writing's season... Playing when it is the Playing season... Last time I checked, none of those are listed on the calendar, so the beautiful thing is that I will only know what season it is when the season arrives.

And while I have a favorite season, I only love the Fall because it is so refreshing after a long hot summer, and I only love the winter because you can't ski without snow and it doesn't snow in the summer.  And I only love Spring because it means the Winter is over....

While this season may be long and difficult, inspiring and insightful, it is a season, and unlike the dirty laundry and dishes, someday it will be done.

Life Cycle of a Stay at Home Mom.

Mom Thought: Gosh, I used to use my brain a lot more than I do now.  I'm kind of bored.  Maybe I should find a volunteering opportunity or pick up a part time job or start a blog or doing something creative.  


After getting a part-time job and starting something creative...

Someone at the job says, "You're doing a really great job with this, and we'd like to give you more responsibility.  We really need you to pick up some more hours.  Can you do that for us?"

Mom Thought: Well, I only did this so I could help out the family with some extra cash and use my brain, but I don't want to let them down, so OK."


Someone at the preschool says, "You are so organized, would you mind helping out with our fund-raiser?"

Mom Thought: Well, it IS a good cause, and I wanted to help out more by volunteering...


A friend says, "Do you want to be a part of our book club?  I know how you love to read."

Mom Thought: It WOULD be really good for my brain, and I think it would challenge me.


The blog she created on a whim, thinking it would be easy to continue sits, loomingly un-updated since the first entry, and it calls to her, "You have 'followers.'  They are waiting on you to write something in here."


Mom Thought: I really miss hanging out with good friends.  Maybe I should join a Mommy Group.  I do have Fridays available.


Mom can't figure out why she's been so stressed and yelling at her kids more and freaking out about lunches not getting packed or why getting coats on and getting out the door is so stressful or why she just can't take one more annoying thing in her life.


Kids say, "Mama, we MISS you.  Are you going to another meeting?"

Mom thinks: What did I get myself into?  Should I be taking on all of these things?  I miss my kids.  I need to spend more time with them.  Maybe I should get rid of some of these responsibilities.  I have been pretty stressed lately.  It's just too much.


Mom says to the job, pre-school, Mommy group, and book club, "You know, I am just taking on too many responsibilities right now, and I can't juggle them all at once.  My family is suffering and, I just can't take on all of these things, so I can't volunteer.  I can't work more hours, and I'm not going to make it to book club this time."

Three weeks later...

Mom thinks: I'm kinda bored.  I'm really going to get going on this blog.  And now that I'm not working so much, I COULD actually do that pre-school fund-raiser thing...

Friday Night with the Hoo's.

Every Hoo down in Broomhooville, the tall and the small peeked out their windows to watch the snow fall.
"Dat one, I yike dat one," Nolan Hoo said with a shout.
"The one I like is better," Danny Hoo boasted without a doubt.

The snow fell and fell, drifting by and by
Until the biggest snow piles were taller than the smallest Hoo
when they stood side by side.

So in the warmth of our home,
we cozied up with some soup,
Papa's potato, to be precise,
We were warm, we were cozy,
In fact, the snow was quite nice.

We danced in the kitchen to oldies with glee
Because mama said that we couldn't turn on the TV.
So Daddy strolled around, guitar in hand
So little boys could "dance" around the land.

With moves like the Nolan two-step,
which is just marching up and down,
Or Danny just spinning around and around.

And then, whose idea it was is unknown,
But the decision was made for a Toga Party in our home.
So cute were the little Hoo's tripping over their attire
We giggled and giggled until our sides were on fire.

In the morning we didn't arise and hold hands around a tree.
It wasn't Christmas, and we didn't sing.
But Mama Hoo was not a Grinch when she awoke that day,
Who knew she didn't need coffee?  She just needed to play.