My Thousand Mile Journey

It crossed my mind this time last year, but I didn’t want to set myself up for failure.  I knew the math should work, but life can be unpredictable.  So I set the idea aside and instead decided that in 2012 my goal for running was to simply enjoy it.  No pressure for PR’s (personal records), no distance calendars to follow, no ignoring warning signs of injury that might slow me down.  Instead, I would enjoy the moment, listen to my body, run fast when I wanted to, run slow when I wanted to, and use the time to digest my thoughts and let ideas percolate.

So I was caught a little off guard when I received the email from my RunKeeper app that I reached 1,000 miles this past year.  Wow.  In 1,000 miles I could have run to Eugene, Oregon...to Las Vegas- ONE AND A HALF TIMES...or to the Grand Canyon- AND BACK.  A thousand miles is a long way, with nothing but my own two feet, the discipline and will to move them, and some favorite music as a soundtrack to life.  


But I didn’t have to travel 1,000 miles away to have the experience of a lifetime. Some of those miles were in the pouring rain, some in extreme heat; most in total darkness, some in silvery moonlight, most at sunrise, and many at moonset.  There were hills that challenged and rewarded me.  There were times when I felt weightless and carried by the wind, and times when I felt like I was running backwards in molasses.  But most of the time I felt an indescribable inner peace.  I consciously tried to run with my senses, varying my path to experience different sights, sounds, smells and textures.  I saw raccoons, coyotes, bunnies and owls...and wildlife of another kind with a police chase, broken into cars, and the aftermath of recent accidents along my path (followed by a quick prayer of thanks that I wasn’t in that place at the wrong time).  I met new neighbors and made new friends.  And there isn’t a single run I can think of that I regret.  Not one.

In fact, to the contrary.  My memories of running those 1,000 miles are punctuated by the satisfaction of breaking a sweat in the freezing cold, from seeing the familiar comforts of smoke rising from a wood-burning chimney and the sweet smell of pancakes emanating from neighborhood homes; glorious sunrises that take my breath away and smiling moons that prompt me to smile back; the crunch of the gravel underfoot that reminds me that with every stride I move forward; shadows that accompany me and sunlight that shines ethereal rays of hope that light my path.  These are the moments that make it all worth it.  These are the moments that make 1,000 miles feel like a tremendous gift rather than a tedious chore.

And my gratitude for this significant reward is made sweeter by its unexpected timing.  I have a sense of satisfaction that is hard to calculate...so much so that I am positive that I would not have relished this achievement had I formally planned for it- I’d be too busy planning my next, bigger goal to celebrate.  It’s just my nature.  But not today.  Today I take a moment to reflect on my 1,000 mile journey, count my blessings, recognize my supportive family, and do a little happy dance while marveling at my thousand milestones.

And tomorrow I run again.

The Art of Motherhood, Sales and Negotiations

I will never forget my first car buying experience.  I was getting ready to graduate college, was starting to interview for my first “professional” job and my car at the time was 17 years old.  It was time.  I enthusiastically wound my way through the maze of shiny cars at the Toyota dealership like a kid searching through presents on Christmas morning as I was approached by a salesperson.  We had the standard exchange of “What are you looking for?” to which I replied that I wasn’t quite sure yet but wanted to find out my options.  I knew I wanted a Toyota or a Honda but that was about it.  I was giving him a golden opportunity at that moment.

Photo credit: Yunhao Zhang

I inquired about the price of the first vehicle I encountered.  His response?  “Do you even know how much this car costs?”  Uh, no, obviously.  And now I felt like an idiot (it turned out that was a high end Toyota Avalon).  The point here is that I left the dealership within minutes after that, went directly to the Honda dealership and drove off hours later in a brand new Accord.  Oh, and I told everyone I knew where NOT to buy a Toyota.

Let’s be honest- when you think “salesperson” you automatically recall your worse sales experience and conjure up images of a fast talking, aggressive, obnoxious- if not offensive- person relentlessly following you around as you try your best to politely decline a conversation about how much you need their amazing product or service.  No one likes being “sold” to.

Interestingly, when I reflect on my experiences as a consumer, I realize that those really positive experiences with salespeople are harder to pinpoint.  Why?  Because I didn’t feel like I was being sold; I wasn’t being convinced that I wanted something I didn’t need, but rather had guidance finding something that was right for me.  It didn’t feel like a sales experience, it felt like a win-win negotiation.  Which is the way I think we all prefer it.

The truth is, we are all “salespeople”.  As mothers, we pitch ideas to our kids all the time, then we negotiate until we feel mutually satisfied with the outcome (or one of us goes to time out).  Even in those moments, we are exchanging thoughts and ideas, listening and learning from that interaction, and negotiating and empowering our children to make their own decisions.  Remember this post about getting my strong-willed daughter to finally decide to pick up her puzzle pieces?  Being a mom is the best on-the-job sales training experience there is.  And we learn the value of being consistent, efficient and opportunistic, as well as the importance of not just educating, but understanding what's important to the other person.

And it’s not just motherhood that utilizes selling skills- they are the foundation for most of our interactions in life.  Think about it...we use them in our marriages, when we date, when we interview for jobs, when we interact with peers, when we teach, when we post to Facebook, and every time we interact with other people.  Even as a consumer.  We are our own sales representative, and we all are our own unique brand.  

Photo credit: Wilfred Stanley Sussenbach

Which means, like it or not, we are ALL salespeople.  And life is a series of negotiations.  It's just a matter of what we're willing to learn and how we choose to apply our skills.

What are your thoughts?

Top 10 Signs You May Be Wearing "Mom Jeans"...

It turns out that your body isn’t the only thing that goes when you have kids; your wardrobe suffers a similar fate.  Or at least mine did after I quit work to be an at home mom.  Now that I’m in the boat of ramping up my “work” wardrobe again, I’ve made the horrific discovery that for the last several years I may have been wearing “mom jeans”...  

Photo: Missjelena

Here are the top 10 signs I found:

1.  You have to poke new holes in your ears to wear pierced earrings for a special occasion (because it’s been that long...)

2.  You have flip flop tan lines on your feet

3.  You can’t remember how to style your hair in anything other than a functional ponytail (and your favorite accessory is a hat)

4.  Your elementary school kids are telling you what’s in style now (...and it’s the same thing that was in style when you were in middle school - just to add to the humility)

5.  You walk like a drunken sailor in anything higher than a two inch wedge (have you seen how high some of the heels are these days???)

6.  More of your clothes than not have some kind of permanent stain on them- which are the clothes you actually prefer to wear...why keep ruining good ones?

7.  You still have clothes from before you had kids, but there’s no way they would still fit (but you keep them anyway as a “reminder”)

8.  You haven’t updated your make up in years- as opposed to the recommended every 6 months- because you can’t possibly use it up that fast

9.  You have a “go-to” outfit for each special occasion: a dress for weddings, a dress for your husband’s work parties, a stain-free outfit for nights out, etc...

10.  And...you only need a fraction of the closet space you used to need before being a mom...but require an extra drawer in the dresser for your wardrobe of jeans.    

The good news?  I double checked to make sure none of my jeans button above my waist and I’m good (probably just in time for that totally unflattering style to return...).  And, while I’ve never been a big fan of latte-fueled, hours-long shopping excursions at the mall, I’m thinking some kid-free time buying clothes to actually hang in my closet may be the perfect antidote for my “mom jeans” blues.  


What about you- have you kept your wardrobe up to date...or shall we go shopping?

Musings on Mommy Burnout

All the signs were there...I was dreading getting out of bed in the morning, knowing what the day would bring.  I had become complacent about things I should have cared about.  I had given up trying to do things the right way and settled for just getting by doing things the easy way.  I just couldn’t find the fight, energy or excitement in me.  I was burned out.

Photo: Thorsten

 So often we think of “burnout” in terms of career (okay, paid) jobs.  Who is to say that the long hours, constant stress in the form of whining, arguing and interrupting, and an ongoing demand for unrealistic productivity and attention isn’t cause for burnout in moms?  We can’t “leave it at the office”, drop a problematic client (or just ignore them), take a mental health or sick day, or decide to quit our jobs.  I am responsible for keeping my family going.  

I know (thanks to my guilty mom voice) that it should be enough to have such an amazing family.  I should feel blessed to have a husband that loves me, kids that are healthy, a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and our safety and security.  AND I DO.  But when your “career” is to GIVE of yourself all.the.time. burnout is a real risk, even for the strongest of moms.  Let’s face it, cleaning the pee off the toilet six times a day is not what I envisioned myself doing when I accepted the privilege to stay at home.

So now what?  Here’s what helped me:

Hello again!

I’ve missed you.  I’ve missed writing.  I’ve missed being in this space where I get so much needed perspective on motherhood and the insanity of life!  But...I’m back.

After the last few months of being a semi-single mom of four (as the wife of a tax accountant, which happens every spring and fall), surviving the terrible three’s times two (by the way, when did it also become the terrible eights and nines?), and helping take care of my mother in law trying to hold her ground with metastasized breast cancer, I just didn’t have much in me to offer to my blog. 

Photo: Cristian Nitu

What I know now is that writing and my blog was the ONE thing that could have helped ease the stress by keeping so much of it in perspective.  And now that I’ve been reminded of that, I hope to carry it forward.  In the mean time, I have brain full of musings that are looking for a home :)

You may have noticed that I also took this opportunity to freshen up my blog.  While I liked the darkness because I felt like it represented a view into my consciousness, I’ve decided a lighter, more uplifting feel might be more appropriate.  I still feel like it’s missing something, what do you think?

Anyway, enough about me.  How have you been?

This is Motherhood!

Some aspects of parenting come more naturally to me than others. Give me a child who’s sick and I can confidently nurse them back to health in no time. Challenge me with a child who is emotionally complicated and having trouble expressing anger and frustration...watch me panic. I’ve been reminded that I have a lot of work to do when it comes to parenting my nine year old...and myself.

My son has always been especially challenging to me as a parent, mostly because he and I are so alike in so many ways. And this is one of those times when I completely understand where he’s coming from...he’s having issues with a friend because his friend doesn’t want to play the same way as my son. An ongoing power struggle has ensued, which has brought out the meanness in both of them. I know my son doesn’t want to alienate his friend, I know he likes playing with him, but he’s extremely frustrated and angry that he’s not feeling heard or acknowledged and it has manifested itself in a passive-aggressive way. Yet, he blames his friend for his anger because his friend is not cooperating. After giving him my best “you have to take responsibility for your own actions” and “we treat people the way we want to be treated” lecture, the bells rang clearly...

This is motherhood!

I live this constantly and on a daily basis. How many times a day do I tell my kids, “If you would just listen....”? Admittedly, my BIGGEST challenge as a mom is to RESPOND and not REACT to situations. My son’s too. Which is why I know I must model how to stop myself, reflect on the problems that arise, consider other people’s perspectives and work towards a solution. Calmly.

Once again I am reminded that motherhood makes me a better person because it puts my own character flaws in the spotlight and motives me to change them for the sake of my children. What has your journey taught you lately?

Are You A Fan?

Motherhood and Other Musings officially has a Facebook Page! Come by, share your motherhood and other musings, and be sure to "LIKE" my page while you’re there. I look forward to seeing you there and hearing more about what YOU have to say!





Oh, and I’m feeling a little less croppy these days, thanks to Audra Baecker of audrasphotography.net.  SO much better than the holding-the-camera-out-in-front technique, don't you think?

Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?

I love my kids. I’d give my life for my kids. But they can’t have my cookies.

I know it sounds selfish, and it probably is (despite my rationale that I’m preventing them from eating unhealthy food by eating it myself), but motherhood is the second-ultimate sacrifice. Your life (and in the early stages your body) are not your own.

So in a life with kids where I can’t use the bathroom for two minutes without being beckoned by a loud “maaaahhhhaaammm” and my every activity revolves around responding (notice I don’t say “meeting”) their every demand there are a few sacred moments/rituals/items that bring me temporary joy and refuel my spirit for motherhood. Coffee at the crack of dawn by myself at the kitchen table is one of them....chocolate chip cookies is another. (It’s a good thing that running is another one...).

I keep my secret cookie stashes strategically placed around the kitchen and have perfected the art of sneaking them...or so I thought. I got caught red-handed again today by my oldest who demanded I show him what was in my hand. Talk about a role reversal! I balked for a second at the thought of sharing and then surrendered to guilt. But when I showed him he just smiled. He didn’t even ask for any (what can I say, he’s well trained!). I was so relieved by his reaction that it made me realize that sometimes it’s more important to be playful and mischievous than to be the ever rule-enforcing mom. We could all use a little more smiling and giggling.

I am unapologetic about my love for cookies and my reluctance to share them, but I think my kids love me anyway. So, I admit it, I stole the cookie from the cookie jar!

What do you rely on to get you through the day?

My Daily Tally

Photo: healingdream

Ever wonder what it’s like having four children? Here’s an account of my daily life summarized in numbers.

ONE+ gallon/s of milk consumed each day
TWO loads of dishes
THREE loads of laundry
FOUR* the multiple of time by which every task takes (5 minute task x 4 to account for the constant interruption of life)
FIVE o’clock am is the time I wake up every day
SIX cups of coffee (according to the coffee pot; according to my giant cup, it’s only two :)
SEVEN thirty bedtime (a quiet house by 8pm)
EIGHT slices of bread eaten in a day (or more)
NINE sibling spats I have to referee
TEN times I clean or wipe the toilet down (and surrounding areas) from 3 distracted boys...

And yet, most days I wouldn't change a thing. And for those days when I forget what a gift motherhood is, I remind myself of the story I read about a mom of young kids who was struck with cancer and was heartbroken because she was incapable of tending the her children and doing things like changing diapers and cleaning toilets. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but doing these things for the people we love makes us feel whole as mothers.  Wouldn't you agree?

Today I'm Giving Thanks For...

Forgiveness. Well, a lot of things, really, but forgiveness is near the top of my list.

This has always been a hard concept for me to embrace. We all want to be forgiven for our bad decisions (intentional and otherwise), but forgiving someone else is a whole other story. This has been a lifelong lesson for me. And having kids had taught me so much about why forgiveness is so important.

Life with kids is filled with ups and downs and daily decisions, good and bad. It is my job as a parent to help them learn from those decisions. It is also my job as mom to love them unconditionally and teach them to not only forgive others (as in sibling fighting) but forgive themselves for their own bad decisions, and learn from them. After all, we are all human and we all make bad decisions from time to time. What’s important is that we try to make things right, and hopefully forgiveness is a natural consequence of that.

This perspective on life and motherhood was challenged just a few days ago, when I failed to meet the expectations of not one but two clients, and I struggled with the idea that I might not be forgiven. I knew I had not intended to do anything wrong and did what I could to fix things...the rest was out of my hands. I found myself asking, “What would I tell my kids?”. It occurred to me that I needed to forgive myself and accept whatever consequences might occur with the idea that I did what I could to right things, while also knowing that there are times in life when that’s just not enough. Still, I went to bed with this weighing heavily on my mind.

When I awoke the next morning, I was pleasantly surprised that my genuine apology had been accepted and that things had been “fixed”. And it made me realize what an important lesson this is to learn early so that my kids can appreciate the importance of taking responsibility for things and doing what’s necessary to rectify the situation, but especially embracing the idea of forgiving themselves and others. Without forgiveness, I’m not sure it’s possible to have peace of heart and mind. And who benefits from that? No one I can’t think of...

May your Thanksgiving be full of forgiveness, thanks and peace.

Humbled Running

Motherhood can be a very humbling experience. But today it was no match for the 13.1 miles I ran with thousands of others.

I was humbled by the dedication of one runner to a loved one lost. I am reminded that life is precious. I was humbled by the woman running with the prosthetic leg. I am reminded that having two healthy legs is a gift. I was humbled by the guy that passed me in the stroller. I am reminded that each of us is doing this for different reasons, and that some have a heavier burden to carry. I was humbled by several disabled kids making their way through the crowd on hand cycles. I am reminded that perseverance is a choice. I was humbled by the front runners making their way back while I was on my way out. I am reminded that this is not a race against each other, but a race against ourselves. I was humbled by those (including me) who had to stop and walk. I am reminded that we all have our own set of challenges in running, and in life. I was humbled by the rolling waves lapping upon the miles of sand. I am reminded that I am small in this great big world, both above water and below. I was humbled by watching the gentleman (a live kidney and liver donor) who encouraged me to the finish last year cross the finish line this year. I am reminded that generosity is contagious. I was humbled by the person who thanked me for encouraging him to the finish line this year. I am reminded that paying it forward always makes a difference.

I ran this race, not for a particular time (my previous injury already humbled me in that respect), but for the experience. And my shadow and I managed to humbly climb over that 10 mile wall.

The race was a success in my mind. Right up until the couple hours later when I puked. (Sorry, there just isn’t a lovely way to say that.) But, once again, I was humbled by the compassion of my husband and children. I am reminded of how blessed and lucky I am. After a week of taking care of sick kids, not getting much rest and pushing myself a little too far, I am reminded of my limitations. And I am humbled by and grateful for all of it.

Feeling a Little Croppy. And Not in a Scrapbooking Kind of Way.

I’m talking about the THOUSANDS of pictures I have of my children...which I adore...but I can’t find a single one of me. Normally I wouldn't think much of it (and may even be a little relieved), but right now I’m scrambling to include a profile picture with the writings I’m submitting. I’ve come to the realization that not only can I count the number of pictures I’m in on one hand (out of the thousands), but my go-to pictures when I need them are the ones that I have cropped.

I’m pretty sure it started right after childbirth when I didn’t want to be photographed because I was overtired, overweight (and no longer pregnant) and feeling nothing like myself. And then the focus continues to be on the infant, then baby, then toddler, then preschooler, then sports and it goes on. Until one day I realize that all those years I spent dodging the camera or being the one behind it means my kids will have little to no record of my existence. I sure hope the memories I’m creating for them will last, because it’s not going to be in print. And while I would have thought it narcissistic in the past to want to be in countless pictures, I am realizing now that it is actually a wonderful gift to give my children. Even when I’m having a bad hair day. Because, really, isn’t it fun and amusing to look back on pictures of YOUR parents when you were little? And have you seen the reaction of your little ones when they see what Grandma and Grandpa looked like way back when? From now on I won’t be afraid to ask strangers to take my picture with my kids, won’t shy away from a camera pointed my direction (even if I’m in my bathing suit or am sans make up), and promise to always smile graciously rather than duck away.

But in the mean time, I’m relegated to my own limited photography skills for my self portrait (yes, that’s me holding my camera out in front). What struck me, though, was that as I looked around at other mom’s profile pictures, I noticed that most of their pictures resemble mine. Isn’t is ironic (and a little sad) that the one person who is probably most influential in their children’s lives is the one person that is missing in pictures? My kids are gonna hate it, but that’s going to change for me. Starting...right...NOW.

GOODBYE PAYCHECKS, HELLO PLAY DATES...MAKING THE DECISION TO STAY AT HOME

Several years ago I hung up my professional suits, gave back my company car and forfeited my generous income. I made one of the single most important decisions in my life: to quit my job and stay home with my kids (then two years old and ten months old). Why did I do that? Believe me, I’ve asked myself this question in earnest more than a couple times, but I always come back to the same answer: to be the one raising my kids.

I never intended to be a stay at home mom....it just happened. I had convinced myself early on that I was a better mother because I worked; that when I was with them I could give them my full attention and all my love. For some people this may be true. But my moment of truth (another story for another time) made me fully aware that this wasn’t the case for me. By the time I came home at the end of the day I was tired (and often still had work to do). My children had spent ten of their eleven hour day to that point in the care of someone else. Not to mention the piles of laundry that greeted me, the snowballing dust bunnies and the stack of crusty dishes left from rushing out that morning. The time I did spend with my kids was largely comprised of getting them ready for someone else to take care of them.

Since my husband had more long term income potential, we mutually decided that I would be the one to stay home. (That, and I’m the neat one). But I had no idea how hard being an at home mom would be. Forget the inconvenience of living on less than half our previous income, I’m talking about the non-stop job of caring for a house and family, keeping two kids two and under from hurting themselves (or each other) and having no choice but to meet the every need of my children. Constantly.

So, do I regret giving up paychecks for play dates? I can’t say I do. I’m not a perfect mom but I’ve learned quite a bit about motherhood, parenting and myself. And if my kids end up completely screwed up? Well, at least I know who to blame.

MORE ABOUT ME

Let me start by telling you who I’m NOT. I am not super mom. Or super wife for that matter. My house is in disarray more often than not and my minivan is a graveyard of fossilized food. I am not a gourmet cook, craft extraordinaire or master gardener.

I AM a thirty-something mother of four young kids, living in suburban Southern California. And I love my family dearly, but in a life amid chaos, I’m lucky to finish a sentence, let alone a complete thought. When I do, I find that I have so much to say, so much to share and so much to learn. And I love to write. So, blogging is a perfect way for me to bring my perspective into focus for all to see.

I also hope it can bring other mothers like me together. Not to judge or lay guilt, but to share a sense of community (and probably a lot of funny stories). We all have a lot to say, a lot to share and a lot to learn. Join me in my journey about motherhood and other musings.