We are just wrapping up our fourth week of the 2014-15 school year.  The following is our productivity tally so far:  zero days late to school, no missing homework assignments, 3 hot breakfasts every morning, lunches packed x’s 3 with approximately 180 ziplocs used along with a roll of wax paper.  We have also had 13 diving practices, 2 hockey tryouts,  7 hockey practices, attended 4 football games, 2 school curriculum nights, 2-3 emotional meltdowns (mine not the kids),1 school commission meeting, my auction donation has been turned in, I made a contribution to the school library renovation campaign, attend church 4 times and I have happily enjoyed 2 beers and 1 gin and tonic.  That pretty much wraps up September!  84 days until Christmas break!!

We have had a strong start overall however bright and early-ish, Saturday morning there will be a restructuring meeting in the living room.  These are scheduled as needed and are usually a bit of a surprise attack.  I may be the only one that sees this as a good opportunity to make sure we are each taking care of the spaces we occupy.   It’s obvious that we are running at a fast pace each week though we could make a small effort do our part around the house.  Our grand meeting will go over:

1)      Taking the garbage and recycle out.  It is not difficult to recognize when it is full and you don’t need my invitation to march it out to the curb!  Jump right in and be proactive.

2)      Toilet paper consumption.  No one needs more than 7 squares at most, 5 seems to be plenty in most cases. I keep the bathrooms stocked with very nice heavy toilet paper – have better judgment and when needed, flush midway.  Clogged toilets are messing up the function.  If you clog it, own it!!

3)      Hang your wet towels up in the bathroom.  They don’t belong on the floor of your bedroom – EVER!!

4)      If I call or text message you, answer it with some form of communication.   This is a simple concept with a non-negotiable expectation.

5)      Homework BEFORE sports.   Just do it!

6)      Out of respect , please tell me when I have something stuck to my butt.   I don’t realize when I am walking around with a melted chocolate chip from my Kashi bar stuck to my backside.  I am just asking one of you to glance over before I barge into a public setting.  PLEASE!!

There are plenty of other items of business I would like to add to this “wish list” though I am well aware the current addendum is going to be the maximum capacity they can absorb in one sitting.  I have to catch them before their eyes glaze over, anything further will go unheard.  I can live with the other mild frustrations that come with our full schedule and parent/child ratio.  In general my kids know they need me to get them where they need to be and I know they need these activities to burn off any extra teenage energy and keep their minds focused – leverage is pure gold in making this daily routine a success!  Our home isn’t going to be perfect or spotless but we are a cohesive unit that I am really proud of even when 1-6 is not their priority.  We’ll get there little by little.  My goal is to tackle this list with grace instead of the current ineffective shout out that takes place. Wish me luck!

I can do all things with God and a To Do List!  That list is vital though, and as you can see, sometimes there is a list, upon a list, upon a list.  I add to it as I go along and it stays with me like a life line.  There have been days I don’t have a list which result in me going all over town waywardly.  I forget to pick something up at the store forcing me to double back or I will get to a location and realize I needed to be somewhere else and sometimes I will accomplish just about nothing the entire day. This scrap of paper and trusty pen provides me mental stability, is fuel efficient and saves me hours on time. My Mighty List keeps me moving and focused.

One morning I was parked outside of Target cleaning up my car before I went in.  I had a handful of garbage in one hand and my list in another as I approached the door.  Just as I tossed the garbage into the can outside the store I looked down and noticed I still had the garbage in my hand though my list was gone.  That is an immediate panic situation, no list equates to 1/2 brain function and I am not too proud to admit it.  I took the lid off the garbage can and began clawing my way through, thankfully the can was fairly empty. The day was early so mostly Starbucks cups rimmed with various shades of lipstick from mom’s that had just dropped their kids off at school.  Being I am only 4’11” it is quite a sight to dig down into the garbage outside of a store.  Super classy to be sure but without that list I may as well go home and crawl back in bed!  I retrieved the list, held my head high and went straight inside to wash my hands (that was now first on the list)!

Fun can commence when my list is complete!  It is a primitive method especially with all the gadgets, alarms and helpful reminder apps.  I have tried them all; this remains tried and true day after day.  It’s 1:56pm and I only have a couple items remaining before I am set free for the rest of day, feeling accomplished with an apple crisp (#3 on the list) cooling on the counter – hooray for me.

In the spring of 2010 I became Reasonably Happy.  Those two words opened up my life to a new standard of greatness that released me from a personal quest I thought I was supposed to be seeking.  It happened during an 8 week journey with a new ministry at St. Luke’s called MOMS (Ministry of Mothers Sharing).  Somehow my name was thrown in the mix to be a part of the inaugural session.  When I was asked to attend my instinct was to decline but my heart said yes which spilled out verbally before I could sort the workable excuses through my brain.  Leading up to the start, I played the pros and cons over and over.

I don’t need one more thing to do right now VS. what would it hurt to go?

How in the world did my name land on this list VS. it is a great honor to be associated with this impressive group of women

I really don’t want to do this VS. this might be a very good way to grow in my faith

There were several other conflicts rising up daily though I wanted to be true to my character and integrity so I arrived at the first gathering.  They gave me a workbook that would take us through the 8 sessions.  There was a table full of delicious snacks which we would rotate bringing each session; a good recipe is a key component to establishing strong connections. Instantly it became a sacred group of women that opened their hearts with full trust of each other.  This moment in time would prepare me for the future storms that were headed my way. It equipped me with a deeper faith and friendships that when tested would not fail, they would become my army!  In the meantime, my identifying moment came during the fourth week, a chapter on feelings.  Page 52 had a reflection prayer.  It was the Serenity Prayer which I knew, though mostly associated it with Alcoholics Anonymous.  At each of our places was a book mark with the prayer in the entirety.

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change;

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference.

(here is the big part, watch for the bold print – the part that set me free is in the second paragraph)

Living one day at a time;

enjoying one moment at a time;

accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

taking, as He did, this sinful world

as it is, not as I would have it;

Trusting that He will make all things right

If I surrender to His Will.

That I may be reasonably happy in this life

And supremely happy with Him

Forever in the next.

Amen

All together the second paragraph is life changing, I read it over and over for days paying special attention to “reasonably happy in this life”!  EUREKA – all this time I had been chasing the idea of “supremely happy” on this earth when I am only expected to be “reasonably happy”.  That was fantastic news!!  I could relax, I could be content and I didn’t even know it until my fourth week of MOMS Ministry.  It took me 41 years to get to this day and it felt great.  Who can’t find reasonable happiness in their life?!  It is the constant effort and race to over shoot and impress everyone that makes us miserable.

There are many many supremely happy moments that will happen on this journey but I no longer have to look for them, feeling overwhelmed when I fall short.   Being reasonably happy guarantees me a priceless calm that is achievable – I am reasonably happy today and it is perfect!  That statement does not apply to every single day on the calendar, this is not a precise science.  Of course, there are days or moments within a day, that I am way less than happy by any measure, however, I work to keep those at a minimum.  I much prefer happiness and strive for it – I am confident that happy looks really good on me!

Here it is – my super exciting Friday “Game Night!”  I like to call it Where the Hell is the Other Sock!!   Loads of fun for hours but as you can see I am losing.  33 successful matches and 19 singles.  Seriously how can there be another 19 socks just floating around the house.  We have a 1,700 sq .ft. home so we aren’t talking an abundance of space – you would think this could easily be solved with a quick walk through but I have not turned up any abandoned socks hiding around.  I personally have mild texture issues.  If I am correct in my theory, my kids have been wearing mismatched socks.  In my little world that is almost an impressive skill.  I would not be able to drive a car, walk or talk if my socks did not match.  The differences in weave, weight and density would consume my entire brain function.  What am I to do with 19 single socks at this point.  I have opened a delightful Twilight Summer Ale while I ponder my options.  Do I put them aside and wait for the next wash cycle in hopes to recover a whole new load of socks that need a partner?  Do I throw them out and start fresh? (less appealing due to budget deficits) Or should I just stuff them back in the drawer and let the kids live a haphazard life of mismatched socks?  I’m not sure if I can sleep tonight knowing there is an ongoing sock debacle.  I imagine this is too trivial to enlist the requests of St. Anthony, beloved Patron Saint of lost items.  It is better to save those pleas for a bigger crisis….and age has given me the wisdom to know there WILL be bigger crisis.  My competitive spirit would love to win but the averages are bleak.  I am forced to make peace with this loss.  Socks win!

 August 20th, 1921 Alvin and Alma Hogarth were blessed with their first and only child.  A daughter they named Jacqueline Mae.  She was born in the old mining town of Angels Camp located in the Sierra Mountains of California.  The little town was best known for their notorious frog jumping competions documented in a short story by Mark Twain in 1865.  I, on the other hand, remember the town affectionately for the beautiful people it produced.   When I was a little girl, my grandma would take us up to visit my great grandparents every summer in Angels Camp.  My Uncle Louis and Aunt Flossie lived across the street.  This annual day trip will forever be a cherished thread in the tapestry of my life.   

80 years later my grandma would have a great granddaughter with her name.  There was no other name I would consider for my only daughter.  This precious name represented elegance, grace, strength, class, fortitude, excellence, prosperity and great character.  I imagine many would say that about their own grandmothers though my grandma’s existence was almost taken at a very young age.  She was 5 years old and playing with her cousins at her Grandma Jenny’s house.  They were enjoying a batch of sassafras, Jackie was in her party dress dancing and twirling about when a spark from the fire jumped, catching her dress.  In a second she was in flames.  There was no hospital for her to recover from the excessive burns to her body – she was in a coma for several days at home.  The outcome of this was not promising but her spirit was stronger!  Though she awoke, it would be years of healing and reconstruction, with permanent scars to almost her entire body.  Where she was not burned, skin was taken to be grafted.  At one point they had used all the healthy skin from her body that was available.  The doctors in San Francisco asked my great grandpa if they could take the skin from his back to complete the reconstruction.  Without hesitation he shed his shirt so they could remove 100 fingernail size sections of skin while he gripped the door handle.  All but one of the pieces from his back was a success.  This was a sixteen year process of traveling every summer to San Francisco for plastic surgery which would eventually lead her to a career in nursing.  A title she was extremely proud of and rightfully so.   She was a miracle everyday of her life and she knew how fortunate she was.  She loved life fully and respected the chance she was given that day in 1926.

The stories and memories of my Grandma Jackie are held close to my heart.  She was my everything.  With her, I never wondered if I was loved, I knew it without a doubt.  She passed away in 2008.  I had expected her to live to a 100 but she didn’t…  Happy Birthday Grandma, it is not as wonderful here without you but I am sure you are lighting up heaven.   

     Jackie and baby Jackie                                                                                                      Me and Grandma

I do my main grocery shopping late Sunday nights around 11pm.  It isn’t because I like the strung out addicts that are roaming the isles or lack of staff at the store, it’s not for the adrenaline rush of getting to and from my car safely in a dimly lit empty parking lot nor is it for the messy shelves and sparse produce after a big day of shoppers taking advantage of the fresh advertisements.  I don’t do it because I enjoy getting home to a dark, quiet house with no help to unload the groceries while I lug them up 2 flights of stairs and I don’t do it to deprive myself of sleep.  This is really my best attempt at simple economics, if I shop after everyone is in bed the food will last longer.  Sunday nights are another key point because 9 months out of the year they will be in school the next day and no one will be home between 7am and 3:30pm to intermittently rummage through the pantry.  It is almost a labor of love bordering on mild insanity that stirs in my brain.

There are several perks to the theory that I have found over the decades beyond my initial economic strategy.  The obvious is how quiet the store is, no fussing kids (this includes mine), there are no lines, I can think clearly while I shop and stay focused on the needs of the house – not get caught up in the desire, I always have a prime parking spot in front, the limited employees are actually happy to see me and despite the extra effort of loading and unloading groceries without my family to pitch in, I would be lying if I didn’t admit I like the calm that comes with this late night outing.  Oh and I also get to pick the radio station, sing all the words wrong as loud as I want with zero criticism. 

There is one thing that always makes it into my cart that no one asks for.  I don’t really know if anyone even likes them, I have never asked.  It is a box of Golden Graham cereal.  I LOVE them.  Really, really, truly love Golden Graham cereal.  Here is the interesting part and probably another indicator of my motherhood induced insanity – I never eat them, not even one straight out of the box.  I don’t think any of my kids could tell you that they have ever seen me eat a bowl of Golden Grahams.  I buy a box because I want my kids to enjoy a cheap bowl of fulfilling happiness.   I am positive if I poured myself a bowl it would never stop.  I would eat the entire box, which could include literally the box!  So I stay away from this obsession but continue to support the brand.  I am mentally saving up for a day when my kids are grown and on their own, then I will go ballistic on Golden Grahams.  It may be all I eat when I reach my 80’s. Until then I have to stay healthy, eat my veggies and do my part to keep them in business to reach this milestone in good form.  It’s you and me Golden Grahams, count on it!

I have been having an issue with my closet door lately.  Luckily all my important clothes are neatly heaped in a pile on a chair in the corner of my room so only special occasions do I resort to rummaging  through the closet.  I must have had some extra time on my side last week because I decided to investigate the source of my closet frustrations.  This is a standard mirror slide door in a 15×20 room so nothing to extravagant – why I willfully battle a door is beyond logic.  I have more time than anything else in the world and yet it has taken me well over 6 months to perk my curiosity.  Sad truth.  

It was a simple discovery and fix.  I started by moving the gold and maroon pom poms from the big high school homecoming game last October and found a set of dumb bells resting on the glide.  I have spent a ridiculous measure of time avoiding my closet at all costs, and then on the rare necessity I have to look for something fresh and new to wear, I open the door as far as I am able, shimmy myself in to flip through the inventory just to realize my problem is 8 lb. weights.  There was a slight bend in the cheap metal glide that I quickly remedied by taking one of the weights and hammering it flush with the floor.  When inspired I am smart and industrious!

Now that these weights have surfaced I kind of feel obligated to put them to use.   I realize this effort to fitness is not exactly CrossFit though it’s a fraction of a start towards good health.   At the very least it gives my carpet a reprieve where the weights have made a deep imprint.  In the last 7 days I have put those babies to work 3 times and completed a total of 54 reps.  It’s an impressive feat for this less than athletically coordinated mid-lifer.  Believe me, CrossFit does not want me.  

Here they are, my family!  The kids that gave me a career in motherhood.  I have seen the controversial headlines over the years of mom’s that are bored by their children, that find parenting dull and unrewarding – some applaud their honesty, others are disgusted by their self absorbed proclaimation, then before you know it, the story fades and the breakthrough interview is a little more than a moment of fame that will settle on the esteems of their children.  My only thought towards the brazen parents (generally moms) is that parenting ISN’T ABOUT YOU!  You were already a kid, let’s see what you can do as a parent.

Either I am very blessed or my kids are because I can proudly announce that I have never been bored of motherhood.   If done correctly it should be an amazing, selfless, thrill to see your kids grow, dream and achieve.  It is your opportunity to be a hero, to make someone else’s life better each and every day.  You get to change your childhood or relive it depending on the circumstances you were raised in.  I agree the first few months of life start a little slow and don’t have an abundance of zest or spunk to it although, those are the best months for getting as much accomplished as possible before they develop their own character and start forming into something great!!  Don’t think for a minute I am claiming to be the patron saint of parenting – my kids will gladly list every error, irrational outburst, bad behavior and illogical decision I have made while raising them.  This parenting gig comes with at least a thousand tough moments but it also has a million great ones and a promise of many more.

I am going to admit that I may have been the last to realize that my first of four children, has cut the cord and moved on.  After attending college in Portland Oregon, he received his degree, moved in with 5 roommates, started dating a local girl and accepted a job working for a hockey team.  All are very clear clues that he may not be coming back home though I still felt it was temporary.  Maybe he would stay there for a year tops….which already passed, then over the weekend any lingering hope of his return was settled once and for all.  He bought his first car with his own money, saved from his own paycheck, with his own credit, registered at his own home where apparently he lives happily as his own man.  Yesterday I realized, I did it!!  I raised a life from conception to adulthood which feels fantastic and was a complete blast despite the challenges that go along with the job!  I am the luckiest mom in the whole wide world – praise God for my family!

By 11:00am this morning I had only managed to get up for a cup of half decaf coffee and to eat the frosting off the cake.  I actually got out of bed twice just to visit my friend the frosting.   I like to tell myself on these type of days that I am fine, dandy, wonderful – though my actions would not convince anyone.  During this time frame of contemplating making my way out of bed for a third trip to the kitchen or getting in the shower, I received a text from a friend, “How did it go last night?”  

I responded “A big fat goose egg”……..

After several minutes my phone rings.  It is her but I am not ready to be soothed.  I am feeling pretty good about my misery and a pep talk would interrupt this grand pitty party so I let the phone go to voicemail.  I hear the ding indicating a message however I wait quite a while before listening to her kind encouraging words and then decide I should be appreciative enough towards her thoughtful effots to at the very least, and I mean least, send her a text in reply.  “I have only gotten out of bed to make a cup of coffee and eat frosting.  Doing great”   The next call comes in quickly.  I grunt while she starts in “911, what is your emergeny?  Heroine, frosting, heroine, frosting!!  At least your fix is frosting”  She laughs and is completely understanding of my grief.  

This year has been a constant roller coaster with sharp, thrashing twists and turns.  I needed last night to be a success.  I invited 43 people and NO ONE showed.  Not even an RSVP which means you have to be ready for anything.  I cleaned house, wrote a $78.58 bad check to the grocery store for food hoping it won’t clear for 2 days, I chilled wine, made a fantastic meal, 2 desserts, put my heels and skirt on applied an extra couple coats of mascara and a pop of color on my lips.  30 minutes ticked by beyond the start time when I saw my kids curious faces.  They asked me all the obvious questions “are you sure you sent the invitations”, “did you tell them to RSVP”,  “where do you think everyone is”….  I am humiliated in front of them.  I want to be a success, I need them to feel secure in our very fragile life and I am supposed to be their fearless, strong leader.  I prayed for just 3 – any 3 guests to show up.  I realize it is summer time, families are busy and it is hot out.  Who truly wants to be looking at my fabulous fall clothing collection?!  I hold my head high, plaster on that smile that takes every ounce of energy so they won’t worry and I announce “well the house is clean and we have a great dinner!  The next show will be great!”  Of course I am not confident about that even as the statement rolls out of my mouth but I have to say something, hope is free which is all I have to work with at the moment.

My friend listens to all of this with a sympathetic ear and as I talk it out it washes away my fear, my sadness, my loneliness.  She reads to me a timely and perfect blog post from Anne Lamott, author of “Help, Thanks, Wow.”  In it she is talking about eating frosting which settles me even further into coping.  I love when the rythms of life sync like that.  It feels like God telling me He sees and knows I am fighting the best fight I can.  It assures me that I am not the only one eating frosting to get by.  That is all I needed and before you know it I was committed to a shower, the fresh start of a new day.  

I have always been the driving force behind our weekly attendance at church.  When Dave was living with us, he accepted a strong roll in getting everyone to the car for mass in a somewhat orderly fashion.  It was a rhythm that I appreciated since the hour between waking up and actually setting foot in the church was usually quite the event at our house.  If we didn’t check on the kids progress every 10 minutes you could be sure at least one would fall back to sleep, throwing the entire effort of going to church into a complete shit show.  Every Sunday is like the first time ever for them.  My kids still don’t grasp on to the routine even though I forewarn them the night before so they can be prepared.  You would think they would save themselves the aggravation and just accept their fate for one hour each Sunday.   

Some weeks, such as today, I leave them home.  There are times when I don’t want to hear them talk in church, squeeze each others hand during the Our Father until one of them drops to their knees, or argue with them all the way to and from the car about why we have to go to church and which kids in their class do and don’t have to go.  I don’t want to apologize to the people around us for whatever mishap they can create when they are supposed to just sit quietly in the pew.  I would rather go peacefully to start the week with a positive mind and full of enthusiasm.  However I won’t let their attendance slide regularly.  No way!  Once in a while is good, enough for them to feel like they have victory but not so much that they get comfortable on Sunday mornings.  Life is such a balance and when done correctly everyone feels like a winner.  Today I enjoyed mass with no interruptions.  It was perfect!  Next Sunday we are back to the routine – pray for me!