reroutinglife

Momming

December 19, 2019August 27, 2021reroutinglife

It was a typical school morning. I bark at kids to get dressed, pack their snack, put on a coat. They ask for their favorite radio station and when it’s all talk, we skim through until we land on Nelson’s I’m the One Who Wants to Be With You and I jam out while I explain that this was mommy’s favorite song when I was about Jack’s age. I get blank stares. We scroll again and land on Turning Japanese and now they really think I’m crazy.

We pull into school and inch through the carpool line, I wave at a familiar mom here and there. Most faces I don’t know or can’t see as they pass. But there’s one face in particular that catches my eye. A mom I kind of recognize, but it’s too fleeting to be sure. She’s wiping her nose and looks like she’s crying her eyes out. Maybe she just has a bad cold, I don’t know. But it tugs at my heart and makes me stop in my tracks.

Momming is hard. I know its not a real word, but to me it is one of the most important. Momming is constant. Momming is exhausting and frightening and joyous and beautiful all at the same time. It’s keeping up with 800 schedules and activities and feeding them and shopping for them and cleaning and hugging and kissing goodnight and the occasional if not daily butt wiping.

And oooooh sweet Christmas time. It’s constantly reminding our littles of the real meaning of the holidays when all they see is you running around like a crazy person. It’s pretending to be a magical elf and a man in red and then dealing with the guilt of the huge lie of it all. It’s becoming a professional shopper and gift wrapper and cookie maker and special ops gift hider (special thanks to Amazon for spoiling a few surprises already. Ok so maybe it was my fault and I’m just bitter I have to figure out another Santa gift. Whatever. Why can’t it just be about baby Jesus?!? Ok sorry, rant over.).

Last night for me, it was trying to make dinner while my daughter hugs my leg crying and screaming because her friend can’t play and I’m worried because she is reacting as though her pet has just died and I have to just stop what I’m doing and hold her because she can’t stop being sad. Then I stay up late reading up on childhood anxiety and worrying and studying and figuring out how to help her and how to calm my frustrated, discouraged momma heart.

It may be dropping off a child who cries every morning because she doesn’t like school because of a bully. Maybe your child is the bully and you pray that you don’t get that conduct report or the call or the meeting with the principal and your heart aches every day trying to figure out why your child’s pain is making them hurt others. Maybe it’s 22 degrees outside and your son refuses to wear pants and you just don’t want to fight it anymore and you tell him fine, but you’re gonna get pneumonia like last year. Maybe your child has a severe allergy and you fear that this will be the day that the epi-pen has to be used. Maybe you’re a mom of a special needs child and you just wish that someone knew the level of selflessness and strength it takes every minute of every day.

Momming is all the worries and all the responsibilities and trying to have a marriage and a personal life and a career and a clean-ish house and shower on top of it all.

Hold up- don’t think I’m all boo-hooing or regretting this Mom gig. Momming is often my favorite thing ever. Momming is hugs and home-made cards and watching your child play and laugh and open gifts and the overwhelming favorite of watching them sleep. It’s watching their first steps and their last day of Kindergarten and their first date and their last time on Santa’s lap. It’s knowing that despite the times they act like they hate you, you really are their biggest hero.

I know many dear friends out there that hope with their whole hearts that they will be momming some day. They pray for the chance to one day be called “mom”. They wonder if there’s something wrong with them because it just doesn’t seem to be happening. They cringe when they get asked about it over and over, they fight confusing emotions when close friends and family start momming without them. I’m sure they wish people like me would stop complaining that being a mom is so hard when it’s the thing they wish for the most.

Despite the craziness and chaos, I truly am grateful. I wouldn’t trade this role in life for anything. But we all see life from different perspectives, and when you’re in it, when you’re steeped in your day to day, before you know it, you’re overwhelmed, and you just wonder if anyone else can relate. You just want to align your heart with someone else’s in those moments.

To the mom crying in carpool…I see you.

I don’t know what your morning was like. What every day is like for you. But your worries, your pain, your precious momma heart isn’t alone. I see you. Don’t feel guilt that because you drive a nice car and have your kids in private school you aren’t allowed to feel pain. That your pain is any less that anyone else’s. You are seen and loved all the same.

Pain is pain is pain.

If you’re momming today and wondering if you can survive another second of crushing pressure to do all the things and be all the things and worrying about your littles, find a minute to be still today. Make some space, even if it’s for five minutes, take some deep breaths of fresh, life-giving oxygen, and just receive the fact that you are amazingly loved and enough. Really sit and let it soak in. Even if no one’s told you for as long as you can remember, receive it and believe it.

There’s no medal for momming. There’s no parade for you at the end of everyday or a thank you card or even a paycheck.

But I see you. We see each other. We’ve got this.

You’re a good mom. Even if no one tells you that today or this week or this month or this year. Even if you forget you child’s lunch or their jacket or their pants. You love them with your whole momma heart and love is just about the best thing you can give.

While you’re running around today doing all your momming stuff (and the other 4 million things you have to do), stop and recognize your momming medal. Sure, it’s not really there, but it is. Feel it’s heavy weight, the thickness of the shiny gold. Maybe your medal has diamonds sprinkled in, or rubies, or whatever! Make it your own. Feel the satin ribbon around your neck, securing your precious award. Imagine what’s engraved on it…Worlds Best Mom. Enough. Loved. Thank you. Makes Mac and Cheese Like a Champ.

Walk out into your day with your head high and your shoulders back. Know that your medal shines for all to see. Put it on everyday, wear it proudly, engrave the words on your heart. Don’t feel silly about it for a second, because you deserve that medal. I mean, you might as well come home to a parade too…so go ahead and imagine that confetti flying and crowd cheering as you walk in the door. Celebrate that you killed another day of momming.

Step on over those Cheerios on the floor and know that your medal sparkles as bright as the sun.

Let Your Mess be a Message

November 7, 2019November 8, 2019reroutinglife

Just like that…my kiddos are off to school. How do I have a second and fourth grader? Where are my babies?? Where did the time go??? It flies, I tell ya.

Side note: I realise that it is now November, and school started almost 3 months ago. So as you can tell, I’m a bit slow. My bad. Ok, carry on…

We had a celebratory back-to-school mama breakfast at one of our favorite restaurants the other morning (wait, we don’t have to make or clean up the breakfast?! Our little people aren’t hanging on our legs or calling out mommy every two to three minutes or suddenly have an emergency the exact moment we try to go to the bathroom???I’d say that’s reason to celebrate!!!) and we were all talking about our summer trips. I mentioned how amazing it was driving across the wide-open spaces of Wyoming as I skimmed over the highlights of our two-and-a-half week western jaunt.

“Wait…you did that by yourself?!” a friend looked over at me, wide-eyed from the other end of the table.

I smiled on the outside but even bigger on the inside. Truthfully, I hadn’t really taken the time to sit and recognize my accomplishments. My friend calling me out had reminded me, in hindsight, that my summer trip was a big deal. As little as three years ago, I would have never thought a trip like this would have been possible for me. Yet here I was, on the other side of it, beaming with pride.

Let me sum it up for you…after our trip to California with my husband and sitter, I flew by myself with the kids from LA to Denver, where I rented a car, drove to meet my mom in Cheyenne, Wyoming (after a quick reunion with my dad for the first time in 20 years!) then followed her in her RV for a week across the entire state of Wyoming (stopping at multiple hotels and RV sites along the way) before flying out of Salt Lake City and back to Atlanta. Which sounds like no big deal. Unless you didn’t drive on the interstate without having panic attacks as recently as 3 years ago.

I often don’t give myself enough credit for my accomplishments, or I just keep them to myself. In my own perfectionist, striving way, if I do accomplish something, I tend to focus on how I still could’ve done better. I’ll look back on one thing I’ve done right and 10 things I’ve done wrong. The I’m not good enough lie tries to emerge victoriously time and time again.

As for not wanting to share, it’s like sometimes you feel silly getting excited about things no one understands or you feel like no one is interested in. But then there’s that one person you inspire, and you realize that no matter how uncomfortable or burdensome you feel, someone will benefit from your willingness to share. Which is the why of starting this blog years ago.

Anyway, let me go back to tooting my own horn for a minute…I did it!!! I managed to pull off a trip I used to only dream of doing on my own, and I intend to celebrate it. Way to go me!!! Chest bump, butt slap, high-five to myself!

Grand Teton National Park

To put my accomplishments into perspective (and because I’m a super-slow processor!) I looked back to the first blog I ever published, over 3 years ago. I was struggling beyond belief. I was a prisoner of my own mind, and I’d had enough. I was done feeling isolated and alone in my struggle. I knew there was a message that needed to come out of my mess, and I was ready to let that truth set me free. I knew my message would help not only myself but others, if I could only push through the fear. I remember the anticipation of putting everything out there after typing late into the night, the difficulty of sharing my struggle with anxiety and taking off the mask I had hid behind for so long. I was literally sick to my stomach about it.

What would people think about me?

Would I still be accepted and loved?

How the heck do I hit publish?!!!

And then just like that…I did it. It was all out there. The words poured out from the deepest spots in my heart, free to fall wherever they needed to land. Honestly, just knowing that I was putting everything out there, that I was shedding my mask, probably would’ve been enough. But when people started responding in such a positive way, thanking me for sharing and helping them in a way they never knew they needed, I knew there was a bigger purpose. My mess was the message they needed to hear.

When I wrote that entry years ago, I was knee-deep in paralyzing fear. I hadn’t driven on the interstate in over 6 years for more than an exit or two. I remember thinking, after years of being on various antidepressants and still not being able to jump over this debilitating hurdle, I needed to try my hand at exposure therapy; putting myself in actual real-time panic inducing situations while practicing the management tools I’d learned. Which meant point blank: I had to do the things I was most afraid of. Which for this stubborn girl, realising this meant some eye-rolling and a few temper-tantrums. But if I was ever going to overcome this, I had to put my big girl panties on and just do it. The more I practiced driving and realizing that my brain was actually lying to me, that I wasn’t going to die simply by driving on the interstate (well, hopefully!!), the more comfortable I was doing it.

So that’s exactly what I did. Armed with my new anxiety management tools I’d learned, I spent intentional time just driving. One day my goal would be to make it past an exit without having to get off. The next day it would be two exits. Of course some days I would regress, and I wouldn’t be able to stay on the road for long; rainy weather, traffic, driving at night, those were tough practice days. I had to celebrate my small victories, and realize that they would build upon each other, but it was tough in the moment. Failure threatened to thwart my efforts. But the more small goals I accomplished, the more I started to notice my confidence increase. I was chipping away at the wall separating me from my freedom, ever so slowly.

Soon enough, I was driving longer stretches. I even started driving on the interstate with my kids in tow, which was at the very top of my hierarchy of fears list. Eventually, I even drove myself to the beach, and drove the entire way home from the beach with the kids. I was doing it. Each accomplishment was beyond liberating.

Which is why this recent trip was such a big deal. Although I have been driving on the interstate for the past few years, trekking across remote Wyoming and Utah by myself with the kids took things up a notch. I mean there were times on our drive when we wouldn’t pass a building or another car for almost a whole hour. Looking back, I really should’ve had some emergency supplies and a road atlas (duh) but we managed through our travels unscathed. I even flew with the kids by myself, another first for this mama that does not consider an aircraft her happy place.

But I did it!!!

Driving into Grand Teton

When you lose your GPS signal and have no road atlas, you end up taking the LONG way (the one in red!!!)

I DID IT.

Even though I was scared. Even though I worried about it for months. Even though my husband even worried about it and he’s not a worrier. Even though I had to pull over sometimes just to take a deep breath. Even though one day the winds on the interstate gusted close to 70 mph (at least I wasn’t in the RV like my poor mom!). Even though I got altitude sickness. Even though I lost my gps signal and ended up adding hours to one of my routes. Even though the kids wanted to listen to the same pop songs 800 times. Even though my kids used the bathroom on the side of the road more than once, and poor Allie soaked through a pair of tennis shoes while trying to pop a squat in the pouring rain somewhere in the middle of Utah. Ok, well, you get it.

I DID IT!!!!!! And, it was awesome.

My life will never be as worry-free as it used to be. I’m working on accepting that, as much as I mourn for those carefree days. But I’m doing life the best I can. I still have phobias and fears that rear their ugly heads and occasionally put me in the corner with shame and despair, but I’m also learning to be okay with having some limitations and boundaries when it comes to my triggers. I mean, if I don’t want to ride a subway ever again or go spelunking in a cave anytime soon, my life can still be pretty awesome right? I am learning that being up for everything in life is actually pretty unrealistic anyway.

So today, I will celebrate what I can do. I can travel freely and show my children the world little by little. I can award them the fresh perspective of new places and experiences. I can teach them that even though driving is not one of mommy’s favorite things, I found a way to do it, because we can do hard things if we try. Even if it takes awhile, it’s ok. We just have to try our best.

And that just maybe, if you take off the mask and share your story of how you practiced and worked and overcame the hard, scary things, it might help someone deal with the scary things in their life too. Because we are all struggling with something. We all need a kind word and a listening ear and a cheering section. We need to celebrate our accomplishments every day, no matter how small. We need to be living, breathing, affirmation givers.

Let your mess be a message. You never know who needs to hear it.

Shinrin-Yoku for the Soul

August 15, 2019August 16, 2019reroutinglife

I just took a tree bath.

Yep, I totally meant to say that.

My morning started off with some harsh words and less than kind exchanges. Nothing too serious, just life getting the best of me. My soul was left aching, and I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I needed a walk in the woods.

I didn’t need it for the exercise (well, my lazy self could always use some exercise I guess), I just needed to be there. Surrounded by the beauty and life and oxygen-giving trees.

While sitting in the lobby of the dentist’s office, anxious about being poked and prodded all up in my mouth, I flipped through one of my favorite magazines and saw a quick insert about a place north of Atlanta where you can rent small, simple cabins in the woods. They referrenced the Japanese practice of shinrin-yoku, which when translated, literally means “forest bathing”. A Japanese forestry expert coined the phrase many years ago, and it has since been a practice widely used and loved by their culture. You simply spend intentional quiet time surrounded by trees.

I didn’t need to read this article to know that I love being in the forest (ok, honestly, I love being on a well-maintained trail in a forest; I get a little freaked out about being lost or surprised by bugs and critters off-trail). I’ve always said I feel the most at peace, most inspired and most spiritually connected when I’m surrounded by nature. So of course when I hear terms like “forest bathing”, I geek out a little.

Some of my best memories and most peaceful moments are when I’ve been immersed in nothing but trees. We grew up going to a quiet cabin in the North Carolina mountains, and were even fortunate enough to purchase our own cabin last summer, nestled among miles and miles of trees. We love sitting on the deck, looking out at the long-range views of nothing but green, listening to leaves being rustled by the breeze or the dancing rain. My husband says he does his best thinking up there. It’s definitely good for the soul.

So this morning I headed out to one of my favorite trails. I let the rhythmic sound of my feet, pounding the damp ground, lull me into a state of peace. I smiled at the way the sun peeked through the leaves, leaving a golden glow among the darkened forest floor. I watched a black and blue velvet-winged butterfly float by, I passed a field of tall, bushy grass, alive and buzzing with a chorus of grasshoppers, I exchanged a curious glance with a pair of deer. Luckily I didn’t see a snake or get eaten by mosquitoes…I mean, not everything in nature is pleasant.

What I noticed the most on the walks, however, were the trees. I mean, their symbolism for life just amazes me. The way they endure so much. They live through heat waves and frost, too little rain or too much. They lose limbs in storms and become covered in vines or eaten by insects, and yet their root systems are usually so strong, their trunks so sturdy, they survive again and again. They grow and grow and grow some more, some for many more years than I will ever see. Even as I passed trees that had finally fallen or succumbed to death, I notice their ability to continue to give life. Plants were sprouting from within and moss covered the bark. Creatures found new homes in their safe shelter. The tree continued to give, even in death.

One of the trails at Cheatham Hill

I walk on and on, my soul filling up with every step. The trees guide me on. Acorns and branches and leaves are falling all around me, but I head on. I have to keep going. I realise that after a heavy storm, it’s not the best time to hike in the woods, but there’s so much beauty to notice, so much more good, that the benefit is worth the risk.

Life is like that…things are falling apart all around us. We are attacked from every angle, every day. But our roots are strong. We may be covered in fungus and loose some leaves and limbs here and there, but we endure. We are life-livers and life-givers.

Everyone struggles everyday with something. Even the people who seem like they aren’t (I’m looking at you Facebook and Instagram). We are all human and life is hard. Sometimes we search so desperately for something to take away the hurt, that we forget that right in front of us, all around us, God has put everything we need already here on this earth. I think we just forget to stop and notice. We strive, we search, we struggle…but we forget to just be still.

So go hug a tree. Ok…just kidding. Kind-of. At least if you do, send me a picture because that will just make my day.

Do take the time to be still and notice. Slow down, breathe deep, go take a tree bath or two. And don’t be surprised if you find yourself one day, when no one is looking, giving those trees a quick thank-you hug.

The Road to Forgiveness

August 3, 2019August 4, 2019reroutinglife

California here we…leave!

We are wrapping up a work/play trip to San Diego/LA, and just boarded the plane for Denver for our third leg of our western summer adventure. We brought the kids (and even one of our favorite babysitters!) and hit up beautiful Southern California, their little eyes wide at seeing it for the first time. We definitely saw our fair share of sights!

From Sea World, Del Mar, and the San Diego Zoo…to Hollywood, Santa Monica and Beverly Hills, we soaked up the perfect SoCal weather and slept in the most amazing Air Bnb’s, thanks to my husband’s uncanny ability to find the best last-minute places. We also endured classic LA traffic, whining, fighting kids, the cluster of Opening Day at Del Mar (ok, so that was also fun and perhaps the best people watching ever!) the monstrous line at In and Out Burger, and multiple Uber drivers that didn’t speak a lick of English, but alas, such is the beauty of travel. No one got kidnapped or ended up in the hospital, so I’m calling it a success.

Seeing the west coast for the first time

So now here I am, just me and the kiddos, (our first flight as a threesome without daddy) and I’m trying as usual to hold it together and relax instead of imagining going down in a flaming ball of fire because, you know, being in a plane is my happy place. Oh, and did I mention that when I boarded the plane I discovered that my husband unknowingly swiped my headphones, and after the third baby cried before take off, I was cursing that sweet man a bit excessively in my head while trying not to bang my head against the seat 6 inches in front of me. And then there’s a guy behind me that clearly needs a new iPad because he is banging on his screen with brute force, so hard that it’s shaking my seat my seat as if a toddler was kicking the crap out of it. But hey, the kiddos are knee deep in plane snacks and soda and laughing their heads off together at something, so at least some of us are having fun.

On this next leg of the trip, we are meeting up with my mom, who has finally fulfilled her dream of renting an RV and trekking across the wide open space of the west. We plan to join her for some of the journey in Wyoming before heading back to Georgia for the start of school.

Before we meet up with her, we are spending a night in Denver to catch our breath and see some family. We have some cousins there, and we are meeting up with my “real” dad, who I haven’t seen in over 20 years and who has never met his grandkids. Yep, you heard me right.

So, that’s not awkward at all.

I think I wrote some time ago about how my real dad hasn’t been in my life for quite some time, several decades passing between the time I talked to him on the phone, asking if I could invite him to my wedding (which was a no-go as I’d figured) to about a year ago when I finally got the nerve to return his surprising phone call. We have had several small-talk conversations since then, but he mentioned he would love to see us.

So here we are, about to land in Denver, me trying to explain to my children that they are about to meet a total stranger who happens to be their grandfather. Just another day in the life.

There are all sorts of reasons I could not make this happen today. All sorts of hang-ups and resentment and abandonment issues that have plagued me over the years. But as my sadness and anger and confusion has gradually settled, after I’ve realized that my love and self-worth isn’t dependent on a single person or my past, I know that forgiveness and love are the ultimate healers in any situation. In that truth, I rest assured.

Our meeting today will be brief and probably totally awkward, but it also needs to happen. All I can do is take baby steps in this journey. I must trust the process and be open to it. I will let the past stay where it needs to and focus on an amazing present and future.

Just like two wrongs don’t make a right, two hurts don’t mend a heart. But an open heart, one that takes the first step, one that chooses to forgive…that’s where the magic can truly happen.

Those Summer Nights

July 9, 2019August 3, 2019reroutinglife

Y’all. I just need to gush about how much I love a good, warm, chill summer night. Because sometimes it’s just fun to write about the good things in life.

Down here in the south there’s this golden hour of summer, between about 8 and 9pm. The sun starts setting, the twilight sky glows as clouds start to turn all yellow-orange-pinkish-purple, the tops of the trees catch the last golden glimmer of the sun’s rays.

Birds sing their lullabies and cicadas start dueling with their shrill cries. Children’s laughter echoes off the houses as they finally take to the streets in the cooler air, delighting at the first sight of fireflies blinking in the trees. Crickets start chirping and the frogs start to call out from the retention pond down the way.

It reminds me of an old folk song, which was also made into a picture book I used to read to the kids, All God’s Critters Got a Place in the Choir”. Nature’s song comes together with an array of sounds, celebrating this golden hour of summer.

And then…a dang mosquito bites me on the ankle. Almost immediately after, I hear my daughter’s tell-tale my-brother-just-hit-me cry. I interrupt my euphoric back porch moment to go check on the situation.

He p-pushed me into the c-c-cabinet! Waaaaaa…aaaaahhh…

I hold Allie close and don’t even attempt to seek justice in this simple brother-sister squabble. I immediately direct her attention towards the back deck.

Come on! The fireflies are starting to come out!

Of course she requests a bowl of cereal first because face it, she’s my child and cereal is life, and then we sit out back in the spinning outdoor chairs (aka, the spinny chairs). I show her the torch candle I’ve lit, brought back to life after finally being filled back up with citronella oil. We spot multiple airplanes in the sky, their underbellies glowing pink, reflecting the last of the sunlight. We ooh at the brightness of the quarter moon as it peeks over a tree branch, and ahh as a fluttering flock of birds race by.

The golden hour is back in full swing.

Jack eventually shuffles out to meet us, casually digging into a bag of goldfish. He points to a few more airplanes, makes some goofy faces and then says excitedly…let’s swim!

My goofy kiddos having some back porch fun

And just like that, they are skipping down the stairs and jumping into the pool, (conveniently still in their bathing suits from this afternoon because duh, its the official uniform of summer) and I take a front row seat to the splashing joy of my children’s childhood. My heart fills up watching them play together (the earlier shoving match long forgotten, at least for the moment) as I sit back and watch the stars pop out one by one. Night officially sets in, and I am grateful for yet another beautiful day.

What’s that? Another mosquito?!

I don’t think so, mister. Go mess with someone your own size. I’ve got a perfect summer night to savor.

Nothing and Everything

July 1, 2019August 3, 2019reroutinglife

Ahhhhh….summer.

As I lay here, minutes ticking away towards 9am, kids still snoozing away in silence, I realize how much we have really settled in to our summer groove.

At the end of May, when everyone is coming down from that tornado of end-of-year-madness, we begin gearing up for summer.

What trips are y’all taking? Are you doing any camps? Swim team? Travel ball? Plans, plans, PLANS?!!!!

All of a sudden I’m plunged back into scramble mode. Desperately feeling like I should have every week plotted and activity-filled. I’m googling camps and scheduling play dates and travel planning like a crazy woman.

Our summer started out with a bang. The day after school ended, we ran off to the cabin, straight down to the beach, and then flew off to Chicago. We did have a lot of adventures, made countless memories. But somewhere during all that traveling, my body just needed to stop.

I drove home from the beach, which is still a huge feat in itself, knowing I had a little over 12 hours before I had to turn around and leave again. I flung open the door and literally made a beeline for the bed. My body ached for sleep. The hundred-mile-an-hour, action-packed summer I was so excited about was already exhausting me.

Then my son really drove it home when he turned to me sweetly and said, “Can we just have a week where we don’t go anywhere?”

Wow.

All my fretting over having enough to do over the summer, and my nine-year-old had to spell it out for me: I just want to do nothing!

Of course he didn’t actually want to do nothing, but I understood. He wanted a chance to be still, to stay home and catch his breath. He didn’t want camps and activities and agenda shoved down his throat like he had during the school year. He didn’t want to spend hours in a car strapped into a seat. He just wanted space and freedom and stillness.

Isn’t that what we all want?

So we did just that. We came home and got some much-needed rest. Yes, we still had chores and errands to do here and there, the kids both spent a week away at camp, and we have another trip or two planned. But we have spaced them out better so we can fully embrace our summer rhythm. We have plenty of nothing days in-between.

Sometimes we aren’t dressed until noon.

Sometimes we have popsicles 4 times a day.

Sometimes we have cookies for breakfast and cereal for dinner.

Sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) the pool counts as bath time.

Sometimes we watch tv for hours.

Sometimes we forget to wear shoes for a whole day.

Sometimes our only outing is to get gas station ice cream.

Sometimes there’s literally nothing to do.

But sometimes, doing nothing is EVERYTHING.

Don’t be afraid of having nothing to do this summer. I admit that I was. I feared every small hole in our agenda. But as I settle in to summer, I’m realizing how much this quiet rhythm soothes my soul. How being bored can actually breed creativity. How slowing down is my love language.

I still haven’t heard a peep from my sleeping children, and that’s a beautiful thing. These sweet days won’t last forever. But soon enough, I’ll hear those thundering little footsteps coming my way, and when they come jump on my bed for their morning hugs, they’ll ask me what we are doing today.

To which I will happily reply… nothing!

You Are What You Eat

January 20, 2019January 31, 2019reroutinglife

I did something a bit, well, sneaky the other night.

As we were about to turn in for the night, my husband asked if I knew where his phone was.

“Your phone? Hmmmm…” I replied.

I knew exactly where the phone was. Selfishly, however, I omitted that information. Notice I didn’t lie, right? I told you I was sneaky…

My husband loves comedy podcasts. Like a lot. Every night, falling asleep in his huge headphones, comedians help lure his thoughts away from everyday stress. In the morning, it’s news on his phone. Scanning pages and pages of headlines, the latest shocking drama or political circus act. It seems like a harmless distraction, or is it?

He also gets caught up with work calls, texts, never gets a chance to fully escape from work. Constant responsibility weighs heavy. It’s a sacrifice, sure, but he truly loves the push and pull of his work life.

I too, am guilty of the addiction of finger swiping late into the night when I need to wind down. Before I know it, I’ve gone deep into the rabbit hole; this story leads to that story leads to another story. Sometimes interesting, sometimes informative, even uplifting at times, but for the most part, distracting chatter. I’ll read an article and then get caught up in the reader comments that usually read like childish banter of I’m right/you’re wrong nanny-nanny boo-boo. Its like an all-you-can-eat buffet, you just want to keep going back for more.

A while back we talked about this in bible study, about things we tend to watch or read regularly. My friend mentioned her husband started listening to these political podcasts constantly, and she noticed a subtle change in him. He became overly worried and invested in the toxic political atmosphere according to the news, when in reality his career was nothing related to that world. He became quick to anger and criticize. Finally she suggested that he listen to something a bit less intense.

For the past few years it seems, the phone seems to become my husbands constant companion. Ok honestly, it’s that way for a lot of us. It’s a way to escape at the end of the long day, or relish those last few minutes of laying in bed in the morning. And don’t even get me started on Netflix…I mean, how fun can that be on a rainy day???

The other day, before the phone hijacking incident, I told my husband he was turning into his mamaw. Don’t get me wrong, she was an amazing, spit fire of a women. Jason tells stories of how she used to buy things from garage sales and turn around and sell them for profit. The woman could pull off one hell of a hustle. When I first met her, she was sitting with Grandpa Brian on their plaid couch, cozied up in their small living room, eyes glued to one of the 24 hour news networks.

“Jason, don’t you go bringing kids into this world, it is a scary place,” she would say, staring at that small box in her living room. She would go on with concern about how the world and humanity was doomed. How we should be worried and afraid. She didn’t venture out much from her small house in Franklin, Tennessee much in those later years; the people in the tv warned her not to. The constant, negative news feed had shaped her entire world view from that half-acre lot in suburban America.

We already struggle daily with our own interpersonal news reel, feeding us the shoulds and what ifs and whys of our daily actions. We struggle with self-compassion and positive self-talk already, so to feed ourselves more negativity from the world around us can overload until we are drowning in hopelessness. We feel a tremendous weight and burden that we don’t even need to be carrying.

I’m not saying that we need to be unaware of what’s happening in the world, because I absolutely believe that knowledge of injustices and needs around us can call us to action and unite communities, but this is more of a help me, help you situation. Like putting on our own oxygen masks before we start helping others. If we run off trying to put out fires before we’ve filled up our water tank, we won’t get very far.

I decided a few years ago, I needed to change my diet.

It wasn’t a food diet; (ok, so there is lots of science to back up that this is essential also, but this girl needs some French fries in her life!!) I needed to change the information I ingested.

I struggled with self-worth, with feeling like I was enough, with shame and guilt over my anxiety issues. But unlike those extra pounds that you can feel and see, my extra weight was internal. It made my heart and soul feel heavy with doubt and fear. Being overweight in your soul can be just as harmful to your health as in the physical sense, but most of us don’t entertain this notion as much.

So how do you start a healthy diet for the soul?

Everyone is different here. We all have things we feel are lacking, and those are the nutrients we need to feed ourselves regularly. Of course it can be as simple as doing one thing we love everyday, or using our creative gifts more often. For me, writing, music, and being out in nature pack a healthy serving of soul food, so I try to make intentional time for those as often as possible. I have friends that go for long runs or take a trip alone once a year. The other day I told the lady doing my pedicure how much I appreciated it and how I wish it was covered by health insurance. Whatever self-care you can fit into your schedule, don’t feel guilty about it.

I also read my devotional every morning, either while brushing my teeth or even more effectively, when I drink my coffee. Tying a daily habit to another only reinforces the act. I make it a priority to read the “good news” of God before reading the news of the world around me. I’ve been doing this daily for about three years, and it’s become as essential to me as breathing oxygen. My oxygen mask.

Mindfulness and being still are other daily snacks that I try to feed myself. We are constantly attacked by countless distractions, and ingesting small moments of quiet and calm can better equip us to battle that sense of feeling overwhelmed with to-do’s. Even if it’s five minutes of your day, the benefits from this habit are life-changing.

Of course, physical exercise and a healthy diet directly affect our state of mind, so it is important to pay attention here as well. But just as we try to drink enough water, take our vitamins, get our cup of coffee in daily, we can’t overlook the importance of the information we are feeding our brains and hearts, figuratively speaking. The mind-body-spirit connection is about as critical as all those crunchy yogis and preachy pastors and chill therapists say it is, and I’m so glad the “mainstream” population (whatever that generalization really means?) is starting to believe it. We can’t do life on our own, people.

So before you scroll the endless barrage of news feeds and Facebook posts and check-lists, pay attention.

Have you fed your soul first today?

I know, it sounds corny. Cheesy. Whatever you want to call it to distract you from the fact that it is essential to your health.

The night I “hid” the phone, my husband and I cuddled up and watched a show together. It reminded me of our earlier days, when smartphones weren’t even on our radar. I relished in our quality time, and my soul started to fill up. In return, I felt loved, worthy, at ease. The extra pounds of loneliness and rejection slowly started melting off. I was satisfied.

So while this isn’t a lesson in how to deceive your husband (of course I fessed up the next morning, after gushing about how much I enjoyed our quality time), it is a reminder to take notice of the “junk food” you catch yourself craving; the deficits and distractions in your life that are depriving you and draining your happiness and health. If you have to set limits and boundaries to do so, go for it.

If you find yourself hungry for happiness, craving comfort and control, thirsty for security and self-compassion, start a new diet. Find what lifts you up, take it in, feed it to yourself a little each day. It’s the most important, most delicious, most satisfying meal you will ever eat.

Promo Code: JOY

November 29, 2018December 5, 2019reroutinglife

I promised myself I’d be in bed by 10pm.

Yet here I am, 50 minutes past my bedtime, deciding that there’s more important business to attend. Time to get back to writing. It’s been way too long, friends.

Life is good. Summer was hot. Heck, fall was hotter than summer I think. Halloween was crazy. I think the moon was full for like seven straight days at some point, so between that and all the candy my kids were plain bonkers.

Then my sweet old stinky dog died in his sleep. We went from bonkers to grief in 2.2 seconds. I was a sad, sad soul. I think I cried for 24 hours straight. But although I still swear I hear Bear’s toenails tip-toeing down the hall, and his little piggy-like snorts coming around the corner, we are slowly adjusting to the emptiness.

Now it’s almost December…and like every year we all stop and look at each other like HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!! Then ensues the blur of shopping and parties and Santa and Christmas songs and white elephants and Black Fridays and cyber Mondays and Giving Tuesday’s and days that I can’t even see straight because it’s FREAKING DECEMBER.

But I caught it early this year. A light conversation I had with a friend early in November stopped me in my tracks. We were literally dreading the holidays. Bracing ourselves for the chaos and basically setting ourselves up for a stressful month no matter what. And then I heard myself. And I decided to stop it.

NO! I will NOT dread this season. I will not get wrapped up in the busy distractions that steal my joy. I will not stress over buying gifts or worrying that they are enough or perfect. I will not go to every Christmas party if I’m tired and need to say no. I will give what I can to charities I love and know that I can’t give to everyone and that’s ok. My cards won’t be early if on time at all but they will get done. If the dang Elf forgets to move one or two or five nights in a row, it won’t ruin my children’s lives. The chaos will not control me anymore…I’m taking back my joy this season.

Because, y’all. We are so totally setting ourselves up for failure every year. It’s like some imaginary universal Christmas competition that we all go crazy trying to win. The decorating and the wrapping and the shopping and the baking and the partying…yes, it can be fun, and it may even bring you joy, but not if you feel like you are chasing an unattainable goal of winning the holiday perfection trophy every year.

That was the path I was on the last few years. Literally so distracted by all the stuff that I was missing out on the joy.

Why? What is it all for?

Last year, during our school’s mom/daughter Christmas craft party, Rachel Brown came to speak. Between the painting and blow-drying and kids running around with unlimited hot-chocolate, you could hardly hear the poor girl. I tried to listen as best I could, and I know she played her favorite Christmas song, but it was hard to hear. I asked her at the end of the night what the song was, and the next day, in the stillness of my quiet car (which is sometimes the only place a mom can get peace and quiet) I played the song; Wrap This One Up by Christy Nockles.

As I listened intently to each word, a peace came over me. I knew I needed to hear that song in that moment. I needed to be reminded of where my focus needed to be during that busy, crazy time. I just needed to be still and listen.

That song forever changed Christmas for me.

From that day through the rest of December, anytime I started to get wrapped up in the chaos and stress, I would force myself to stop and listen to that song. To remind myself of the why of Christmas. To remember what it’s all for.

Because the what and the why are so much bigger than the stuff.

If you get a moment in the next few days, try to be still, even for a minute. Focus on what’s good in your life. Focus on the fact that we get the privilege to celebrate at all. Forget the invisible finish line and the infinite lists you’ve made for yourself, and relish the fact that you are here to see another day. Soak up every ounce of joy you can. Be grateful for the tangled ball of Christmas lights and the 60 cookies you have to make and the paper cuts from the wrapping paper.

Or don’t do any of it at all. Just decide to sit and be with people and love on them and shine your light brighter than the dang Rockefeller tree.

Whatever brings you joy, will bring joy to others. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. No promo code required.

So before you go rolling your eyes at those Christmas songs that drive you mad sometimes, try to be still and listen. You may just be reminded what a miracle Christmas really is.

Just Say Yes

August 3, 2018August 3, 2018reroutinglife

It was a rough start to the trip this morning.

As we took off through a barricade of storms in Atlanta, the plane once again bobbed and weaved through the turbulence, sending me once again to the edge. Zero visibility blinded my view and brought on panic.

Meanwhile, my brave daughter next to me could hardly contain her excitement. “We’re in the clouds!” she exclaimed. Unfazed by the bumps, she smiled and carried on without a care. Her joy was contagious, parting the clouds of my fear.

As we journeyed on to Denver and started making memories on the first leg of our trip, I realized just how grateful I am that I can persist through my fears. I could’ve crumbled and said no to flying at all. I could’ve foregone the excitement and anticipation of this time with my family. I could’ve just stayed in the safety of my home and never experienced a day like today, watching my children take in this beautiful scenery for the first time, their eyes wide with amazement.

I could’ve said “no”.

I could’ve said “I can’t”.

But I said YES.

Go, see, do.

Live.

The yes is not always easy. It’s not graceful or without pain or embarrassment or doubt.

But I’ll take a yes over a no any day when it comes to facing my fears.

What will your yes be?

Dear Turbulence

August 1, 2018August 1, 2018reroutinglife

Ahhh, the adventures of summertime travel. We have been hoping around a ton, making precious memories along the way.

Although flying has been somewhat easier for me than in the past, I still get hung up on the same old triggers. Turbulence is a biggie. No matter how many times I seem to fly, I struggle with the unpredictable nature and lack of control when those pesky little bumps seemingly come out of nowhere.

This past flight, although it wasn’t particularly terrible, it was just constant enough to drive me to that edge where I am desperately grasping for comfort. Where I just want to make it stop. It’s so hard in these moments to slow my thoughts down to where I have trained them; the physiological response is just so quick. But obviously, I cannot control this specific situation, so I must cope.

Enter my good old friend…words.

I need to get the words out, the words that match the overwhelming feelings. They need space, a place to breathe, a way to purge this toxic negativity from my body.

You know when you are so upset at someone that you write a letter you never intend to send? That’s what I decided to do. I decided to send a note to my pal, Turbulence.

Dear Turbulence,

Hi there! It’s me again. I know we have this exchange every time I fly. I get very upset with you, you see. The way your existence in the cloud formations just happen to be in the flight path of my plane, making it bump up and down with invisible undulations in air flow, it’s all very scary and terrifying to me. Why can’t you just stay out of the way until my plane has safely passed you by? How can you be so inconsiderate? You make me very, very nervous. I’m sick of it.

Today especially, even on this very short flight, you’ve decided to hang out waaaay up high at cruising altitude, in these thin little clouds that are shielding the clear blue sky with a hazy white glow so that I can’t see anything out my window. They are bright and blinding and it’s probably annoying to the passengers next to me that I have to leave the window open since you make me so nervous. I have to see what’s going on around me, hoping that it will give me a clue to when you decide to throw a few more unwelcome bumps my way. Sure, they are small and subtle bumps, but enough to keep me on edge wondering where the bigs ones are you’re hiding. I wish you would stop being so secretive about all of this. It’s not right.

I really hope you can work on controlling yourself and stop scaring me to death. I get really stressed out and nervous when I’m flying with you just bumping me around all unpredictability. Don’t you realize how many people you are making uncomfortable up here? It’s just really rude, and I think you need to stop.

Sincerely,

Your Favorite Panicky Passenger

I know what the response will be, I can see it coming.

Dear Panicky Passenger,

I am so very sorry for your panicked state while flying with me. But please keep in mind, I’m just air. I can’t be anything else. The weather patterns and conditions made me this way. I’m here whether you want me or not. I’m not trying to scare you on purpose. I’m just being myself, and going where the wind takes me, and that’s the best I can do. I’m so sorry to hear that I make you so uncomfortable. Since I can’t do anything on my end to help you feel better, maybe there are some techniques you can learn that will help you deal with me when I’m hard at work. You could also take this up with the Global Air Current department. I regret to hear you are having issues with me, but I’m just doing my job, ma’am.

I hope that you have a pleasant flight.

My sincere apologies,

Turbulence

As usual, I make the realization that it’s not all Turbulence’s fault. It’s also my reactions that are to blame. So I write back.

Dear Turbulence,

I’m so sorry that I have placed all the blame on you again. I know you can’t help where and what you are, and it was unfair of me to make you feel badly for my discomfort. After I sent my first letter, I looked around the plane; I saw people sleeping, playing cards, reading and relaxing peacefully. No one else seemed upset enough at you to be writing you a mean letter. Everyone else must have realized and accepted that you cannot help who you are. Although it’s true that you do make some people nervous when you bump them around particularly hard, I know you don’t mean too. Like you said, you are just doing what you were meant to do.

You see, I have irrational fears that sometimes try to hijack my brain, and they cause me to enter into a state of panic. Even though there is no physical harm that your turbulance has placed me in, my brain send signals to my body that I am in danger, and it results in a vicious feedback cycle every time I feel the slightest bump. This is called a negative feedback loop. Your turbulence is also a panic trigger. There are ways to help this of course, and it is my responsibility to learn how to manage and deal with having you in my life. I’m so sorry to blame you for how I choose to react to your existence. I know you don’t mean to scare me or anybody else. It is something I continue to work on every time I fly.

Although it’s true that sometimes I don’t like you, and you make me extremely uncomfortable, I need to learn that you are a part of life. If I want to continue to travel to fun and exciting places while making wonderful travel memories, you and I are just going to need to learn to get along and trust each other. I need to trust that although you make me nervous and scared, I am not in real harm. I will try to remember that next time I want to write you a nasty letter.

Looks like the nasty letter really needs to be addressed to my brain. I’ll get to work on that right away.

Sincere Apologies,

Work in Progress

I get a final response, hopefully the last exchange we will have for awhile.

Dear Work in Progress,

Again, I’m so sorry I make you so scared. It’s true that I have no way of warning you of every bump, and yes it is true that I cannot harm you and do not intend to do so. I hope that you can work with your brain and train it to not worry so much about me. Good job at continuing to fly even when you are so nervous about it. I would hate for you to miss out on the adventures of traveling because of me. It would sadden me greatly.

I’m sorry you don’t like me, but I hope that you can learn to tolerate me. I’m really not as bad as people make me out to be. I hope that one day you’ll be like the people on the plane who are relaxing and enjoying their flight without worrying about me so much. It’s a much better way to be, I believe.

Good luck with everything. I’ll reach out to that brain of yours and give her a good talking too. She sounds like she’s got some serious trust and control issues.

Until then, keep on flying and I’ll see you next time!

Be brave my friend!

Sincerely,

Turbulence

I finish this two-sided conversation with an interesting feeling…relief, calm, and positivity. The plane continues to bump intermittently, but I find myself unfazed. I even close my eyes for a bit.

So I had an imaginary conversation with an inanimate object…and it totally worked.

It doesn’t matter how silly your coping skills are, find what works for you and go for it. Let go of the shame and stigma of your fear and give it a good talking to.

Then all of a sudden you’ll realize, with alarming clarity, that the things you’re so afraid of couldn’t talk back to you even if they tried.

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