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.

Why I Want My Kids To Fail

First, let me say for the record, that I do NOT want my kids to be failures.  Quite the opposite- I want them to be successful as much as possible in life...which, in my opinion, requires that they fail at least some of the time.

Here’s the thing: we are raising our kids in a society where they are rewarded for just showing up; where the expectation is not that they work hard, but that they are simply present.  We give trophies for just being on a sports team, regardless of their skill improvement; we incentivize kids to come to school by giving them prizes, regardless of their performance; we defend our kids and rescue them when they fail, removing any assignment of responsibility or value of meaningful consequences.  

Photo credit: Mmoyer

What do they learn from this?  That they are entitled to success and to win, and that somehow they deserve it.

I’m all for positive reinforcement, but I also see the danger of replacing the intrinsic rewards of intentionally setting, working towards, and achieving challenging goals with the idea that it is good enough just to be there.  Our professional jobs don’t work that way; our relationships don’t work that way; life does not work that way.  This breeds the kind of motivation (or lack thereof) that has people expending more energy looking for ways to work the system in their favor (which isn’t all that hard to do), than committing to, sacrificing when necessary, and doing their absolute best to be successful.  If you don’t know what it feels like to fail- if you miss the opportunity to learn from your mistakes- will you ever truly know and appreciate success?  Or will you just feel entitled to more?  

I don’t think anyone wants to fail, but each failure brings a unique opportunity to grow and learn and become a better person because of it.  And sometimes that opportunity from failure is well beyond the original goal of success.  Failure can be a gift.  Just look at the inspirational underdogs around us who have overcome inconceivable odds, like Oscar Pistorius (aka “Blade Runner”) from the 2012 summer Olympics, because they are willing to redefine success and be even better in spite of their disadvantages. And remember Christopher Columbus, the guy who discovered America...by mistake?  Take a minute to ponder this list of 50 Famously Successful People Who Failed At First- what would have happened if they ended their pursuit of success and settled for just good enough? 

Photo credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walt_Disney

I love my kids and I want what’s best for them.  And, I’ll be the first to admit that my first instinct is to give them everything and/or do everything for them to make them happy- for the moment (and, if not to make my life easier).  But, in the end, I know that doing so only creates lazy, ungrateful, selfish people who just want more...and think they deserve it because they don’t know otherwise...because they haven’t learned that success is the result of overcoming failure, and the only way to overcome failure is with consistent effort and hard work.  

Okay, I’ve vacated the soap box, thanks for indulging me.  I would give you a trophy for participating, but... What are your thoughts on teaching kids how to fail so that they can ultimately succeed?

Back to School: Organizing the (In)Sanity for Kids and Parents

School supplies: check.  New clothes: check.  Finding out teacher assignments and seeing friends after a long summer: check.  Ready to learn: well...

Photo Credit: Digitalphotonut

It’s taken me more than a couple years of being a mom and going through the back-to-school routine to realize that preparing and organizing to go back to school is more than just filling a backpack with supplies and wearing some of the latest fashions.  In fact, it’s much more.  While some kids look forward with anticipation to the new classroom, new teacher, and new challenges, others are filled with angst about settling into a new environment , anxiety about whether their teacher will be approachable or intimidating, and fear about not being able to learn the information.

Take my oldest, for example.  He struggled quite a bit in third grade- not with the actual curriculum as much as with the “dynamic” (which in his case was a euphemism for “inconsistent”) classroom format of teaching.  He does not do well with change...and as a result of being forced to adapt to ongoing changes- and being in a perpetual state of being frustrated and feeling lost- came to the conclusion that he can’t “do” school.  He absolutely can, but he internalized his inability to keep up with the changes as an ineptitude for school.  (Insert exasperated sigh) Who says motherhood and parenting get easier as kids get older?  

I talked to his teacher- her solution was to sit down with him once or twice to help him organize the notebook he uses in class.  I talked to the school counselor (since his deflating self confidence was carrying over into his social interactions)- her solution was to sit down with him and help him organize his notebook...differently.  I did my best from home to help him be consistent with his homework schedule and where he put his completed work (which, more often than not, he didn’t turn in).  And while I emailed his teacher regularly, I just didn’t feel he was getting the support he needed.  At the same time, he was getting to an age where too much coddling and too accommodating can perpetuate his feeling of incompetence, which would surely contribute to his declining self esteem.  And this was only THIRD grade!  

So, while I will be the first to admit that I’m breathing a sigh of relief now that summer is over, I have carried a certain hesitation going into this next school year.  I keep asking myself, “How can I help him get/stay organized?”.  Then it occurred to me that no one was actually teaching him the skills on how to be organized; they were just telling him where to put things.  He needed to understand how to organize his thoughts first so that he could organize his actions.   

The saying, “A goal without a plan is just a wish” has never made more sense to me.  

He needed a plan for getting organized that he could apply to any challenge or situation, no matter where he was.  Here’s what I came up with:

It’s pretty self explanatory, but basically, it’s all about being prepared so that you have the best possible chances for success.  And who doesn’t want to be successful?  It’s simple enough to be able remember and understand, and flexible enough to apply to most situations.  And best of all, it makes him feel in control of the situation.

We’ve revisited this a few times together when frustration levels begin to escalate and have found that it helps diffuse the situation and bring the focus back to the task at hand.  We also followed up our introduction of this concept with a labeling gun session where we labeled important things in his environment to help make life, well, more organized- like where to put shoes, his soccer gear, his homework pencils, and other things he often loses that contribute to his (and my) frustration insanity.

So far he’s more organized, and I’m more sane, so I call that success!  And it applies to more than just life with kids- my husband and I have even found ourselves putting these specific ideas into practice outside of being parents when we are feeling overwhelmed.  And, you know what?  It helps!  Give it a try next time you feel insanity taking over.  

What back to school tips and ideas do you have for making the transition smoother for everyone?

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?

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:

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?

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?

Taking Down the Gates

The gates aren’t just open, they’re removed. If there’s one thing having twins has taught me, it’s that things go much more smoothly when I can find peace with moving into the next stage of motherhood and not fight the changes all the way. But change can be unnerving.

We took the baby gates down recently, so our three year old twins now have free reign of the entire house at their own leisure. The truth is, they’ve access for a while, since the gates were often left open by the older siblings, and then eventually ignored all together. Never the less, they were my security. It was a tangible boundary that was indicative of the toddler stage we were in, and its absence is a tell tale sign that life has grown and evolved. Whether I want it to or not.

Parenting is a constant exercise in letting go of some things while simultaneously holding tight to others. After I had the twins, I was completely satisfied (and mostly overwhelmed) with the idea that our family of six was just the right size. I’ve known that every stage we’ve gone through, from crawling to talking, has been the beginning- and the end- of a stage of motherhood I probably won’t be experiencing again. And I’m okay with that. But there’s something about removing the baby gates that seems so final, so free and so...insecure. Those gates kept them out of harm’s way, provided stability when pulling up to stand, and gave them balance when learning to walk. But my babies are no longer infants, babies or toddlers. They are now preschoolers and their world is growing with them. As much as I want to close that gate and keep all the innocence, sweetness and security locked safely behind it, that’s just not reality. The reality is that they need the space, they need the exposure and they need to learn new boundaries...often by consequences. I can always comfort them, but I can’t always protect them.

And so, I’m letting go of the baby gates and holding tightly to the hope that my babies won’t stray too far and will always want to come back to their mommy.

Funny how when our kids grow, we do too.