Grateful

Almost a year ago around this time, I wrote a blog post surrounding the question I was receiving most often at the time: “How’s married life treating you?” You can read the post here: https://dancingdissidentdaughters.blogspot.com/b/post-preview?token=yr7i7lQBAAA.bX-Ds7G0iYETi01P2jI43KzWgHk1gvIsDLaBxrq7mQKI-kuR5mPYW7JS3KshiqOhJGjAvjjOHZQd83ESvPM7Xw.2wORIMW0IhTND2byC9l-YA&postId=3610647231355431445&type=POST but to sum up the blog, I kept responding to people with “It’s good. Not a lot has changed but it’s good.” I elaborate in the post and go on to say why that was a piss poor answer but the moral of the story was that I was in fact, really just HAPPY and didn’t feel the need to effuse too much.

Anyway, here we are, a year later. Again, there is a single question that is dominating my interactions with friends and family. That is:

“How are you feeling?”

I suppose that question dominates a lot of people’s interactions but in my case, they are referring to how I am feeling toward the end of my pregnancy (I’m due in 2 days!). And here we are, once again, with me giving piss poor answers to that question. Most of the times I say, “I’m good. I’m just tired but otherwise I feel really great.” Don’t get me wrong, that’s not a lie. I am tired all the time and in general both physically and emotionally I feel really great. However, I don’t really feel like it’s a genuine answer.

I don’t know why it’s so difficult to answer the question authentically. Maybe it’s partially due to me thinking that people really don’t listen to your response anyway (#Aleschproblem?). But I think the greater issue is one that affects everyone in our society today. So many times we are almost scared of expressing our feelings of joy or happiness because right along with that joy and happiness we have this fear that it will be suddenly taken away. Brene Brown has some great lectures and books surrounding this topic and we could probably write endless blogs on this topic alone. However, she recommends expressing gratitude as a way of holding on to that joy and happiness that we may be fearful of losing. She says, “For it is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.”

So to answer ALL of the “How are you feeling?” questions I have received over the past weeks and months….

“I am feeling extremely GRATEFUL.”

I could fill up three pages of stuff that I am grateful for and I’ll surely miss something or someone but I do feel like I need to mention a couple of items for when I go back and read this years later….

First and foremost, I am grateful to have been blessed with this healthy pregnancy. Second, I am grateful to be experiencing this special 10 months with my over-the-top supportive, loving husband. If you read my blog from last year that I referenced above, you’ll know I’m not one to gush about the details of our relationship. Suffice it to say he is as “dependable as the moon and sure as the stars”. Third, I am extremely grateful for all of the support from our family and friends…..

My immediate Iowa family preparing to take time off from work and booking expensive flights to be able to spend time with me and help after the baby is born, my in-laws throwing me the most beautiful baby shower, my sister Jill flying all the way out just to attend my baby shower, my mother-in-law making me food on the weekends, my girlfriends celebrating me with a brunch and giving me gifts to pamper myself (everyone gives the baby gifts but can often forget about mama!), my girlfriends who have visited me at the house in order to still have “girl time” but while I’m in my pajamas, friends and family sending notes of encouragement from all over the country (one of my biggest supporters lives all the way in Seattle!), my coworkers throwing me an unexpected and very thoughtful baby shower at work (I always say support in the workplace is invaluable!), etc, etc, etc.

And of course, all of the advice I have received. That’s right. Whether solicited or unsolicited, I have been grateful for it all. It’s funny because I have glanced at so many articles and feeds on the internet about how to politely reject unsolicited advice when one is pregnant. I guess I don’t feel the need to do that. In the end, people aren’t trying to tell you how to do things. They are just trying to be helpful. I bank the information that I think will be useful and just listen to the rest knowing that they are just trying to connect with you and your experience. After all, as I’ve said many times in my posts, that is what life is all about. Human connection….and lots of gratitude! J

Silence is Golden

Sunday, May 15, 2015. Wake up at 6 a.m. Help husband get things packed for his competition. Let him steal my name tape from one of my uniforms. Must remember to get that back when he returns. Send husband off to week-long Army competition at 7 a.m. Watch five minutes of news and down one cup of coffee before eight-year-old Energizer Bunny on steroids wakes up jumping down the stairs three at a time. Two year old calls for Mommy shortly after. Run up stairs, grab two-year old and run downstairs because she has to potty. Throw Dora the Explorer adapter plate on toilet and put two-year-old on the toilet. Eight year old wants a movie on. Two year old wants breakfast. Put movie on and get two-year old breakfast, grab something for eight-year-old as well in anticipation of the, "Mom, I'm hungry" call that comes in five minutes. Shower while kids are eating, get kids ready for the day, finish watching movie. Meltdown No. 1 comes when I announce we have to leave for church. Throw three different snacks in purse and get kids in car. Two of the three snacks get eaten en route to church making stash dangerously low. Ponder how long the orange has been in my purse and whether it is a viable option in case of emergency. Laugh out loud at the prospect of peeling an orange during mass and dismiss it as an option even it were fresh. Arrive at church 2 minutes late which turned into ten minutes late because eight-year-old decided to climb on some rocks and two-year-old had Meltdown No. 2 when I tried to carry her. Double as a referee in church, anxiety skyrocketing as I realize we are attending both graduation mass and a baptism. Two-year-old burns through snack no. 3 - fruit snacks--and drops one on floor. Meltdown No. 3 occurs  when I won't let her eat it which is ridiculous because had we not been in church I would have let her eat it off the floor. Promised to take kids mini-golfing after church so hurry to the car until the eight-year-old decides to climb on the rocks again. Ten minutes later we are on the way to mini-golf. Play mini-golf where meltdown 4 (two-year-old hits head on something) and 5 (eight-year-old couldnt get the ball to go through some stupid ass glowing spaceship) take place. Meltdown 6 happens in car because two-year-old is hungry. Eight-year-old demands mac and cheese and specifies the elbow kind of noodle so make panic decision to eat at Noodles and Company. Pay for two mac and cheeses and chocolate no white no chocolate no white milk for the kids and a pad thai for myself. Return to car and drive to library because they each got to pick an activity and the eight-year-old picked golf and the two-year-old picked the library. Eight-year-old decides to climb on top of car. Two-year-old wants to climb too so both kids end up on car. Finally arrive in the library and meet Moe and Sherba the hamsters. After playing with Legos and puppets, kids go to computer games. The two-year-old wants to type and when I try to help her she looks at me and says, "What the fuck." Heads turn except mine which looks down at my eight-year-old's shoes which he has decided to take off for some reason. Remind self I need to watch my mouth more and that I need to discuss with eight-year-old  his habit of taking his shoes off wherever we go. Play games and then check out movies. Meltdown No. 7 happens because two-year-old pokes self in her eye. Meltdown 8 follows because the eight-year-old can't take the two-year-old crying and he runs out of the car. Get eight-year-old under control and soothe two-year-old who is still holding her eye and crying.  Start the car and begin to drive thinking two-year-old will stop crying if we leave. Have to stop five minutes later because eight-year-old alleges he is going to puke because of all the crying which has not stopped. Decide to bribe kids with ice cream and stop at DQ where two-year-old falls asleep. Return home and watch My Little Pony and Peppa the Pig. Get supper for the kids and begin to put on movie. Movie doesn't work because the remote for the DVD player got reprogrammed somehow. Meltdown 10 comes in like a lion because I can't figure out the programming in two minutes. Twenty minutes and three Google searches later, the remote is back in business. I begin getting my lunch and dinner ready for tomorrow. Eight-year-old has soccer practice tomorrow night so I have to cook for tomorrow in advance. Two-year-old informs me she is going to pee her pants so stop what I'm doing to put on Dora adapter plate. Meltdown 9 happens when the two-year-old bawls me out for not wiping her good enough. Two-year-old rips off pants and throws self on floor. Return to packing lunch and making supper for tomorrow. Eight-year-old decides he wants chocolate milk so I throw some Nesquick in a cup and pour milk over top of it. Realize milk is at the critical stage of not having enough to make Cocoa Puffs in a.m. Anticipate meltdown in the morning as a result. Note to self that we are low on milk. Need to get to store tomorrow. Lunch packed, supper for tomorrow made, clean kitchen, vacuum floor, and eight-year-old wants to play catch. Play catch, finish movie, pick up house, put laundry away, help kids brush teeth and put them both to bed. Meltdown 11 happens at bed time because the two-year-old thinks the eight-year-old doesn't have to go to bed. Sing Old McDonald for the millionth time and finally get two-year-old to bed. Tuck eight-year-old in and hear two-year-old crying. She wants her bunny and kitties which I find. I head downstairs, turn off the lights and turn on the TV. It is my favorite  show Dateline but as I settle into my recliner I remember I need to take the garbage out. Go upstairs and change trash liners. Go downstairs and repeat. Walk outside and pull trash bin to curb. Come inside and make coffee for the morning. Sit down for the last half of Dateline.

Which brings me to the current. The house is so quiet. I'm here all by myself in the peace and quiet. The silence is delicious and it rushes around me. The bathrooms could be cleaned, the rest of the house vacuumed, homework for my masters could be read, and yet...I do none of these things. I don't feel badly about it. I take pleasure in not having to share the remote, not having to do anything except what I want to do, which at this moment is to watch Dateline and relax in a recliner. I don't have to make small talk or worry if I fall asleep on the couch or feel bad for looking at my phone. No one is asking me for anything or trying to keep me up late or even speaking to me and I love it. I absolutely love the solitude. These times are rare right now but I know it will not always be this way. I wonder if the noise makes me appreciate the silence more.  Sort of like when you turn off the static from a radio or a TV, the silence sounds so much nicer. I find myself dozing off and remember I need to write the blog for this week. In reflecting on how content I am right now, I know exactly what to write about. It won't be poetic, it won't be earth shattering. But it will be real, authentic, and this asshole wouldn't change a single thing....except maybe to have another Dateline on after the one I'm watching is over. I'm amazed at how much I can handle. I have grown as a parent who couldn't deal with one meltdown to one who can take on double digit tantrums with two kids in one day. I'm not perfect but I'm getting better at this parenting thing. So i  have a two-year-old that knows how to correctly use, "What the fuck!" I overlook that right now and focus on what I have done - I have learned how to parent without completing losing it. I smile. I will take that win today. I have grown to appreciate these moments of madness. These moments are where we spend the great majority of our days. If these moments can be appreciated and treasured, then our hours will be good, our years will be great and our lives will be lived to the fullest. Real life doesn't happen when we are at our best or when we are achieving sterotypical greatness. No, life is lived in these moments of chaos, when things are their messiest. It is these moments that allow me to bask in the beauty of the silence that now envelopes me as I head up to sleep and get ready to do the same thing tomorrow.

Stop to Smell the...Dandelions

Me: "Oh, wow!!! That's such a beautiful plant! Do you know what it's called?"

Colleague:  "Yeah...it's creeping Charlie and it's actually considered a weed."

I was left wondering how something so beautiful could be labeled with what has become a dirty word in our culture...weed. What was a seemingly innocuous conversation came to be another one of those defining moments that I distinctly remember. First, a little background...although I was born and raised in Iowa and have lived in this state for all but five years of my life, until I was in the Sustainable Agriculture PhD program at Iowa State, I knew little to nothing about Iowa's landscape and agriculture and clearly had paid no attention to lawns and the menacing creeping Charlie. However, I was aware of the homeowner's constant seasonal battle with the other plague on the "perfect" lawn, the dreaded dandelion.

Who decided dandelions and creeping Charlie were unacceptable inhabitants of Midwestern lawns? What child hasn't picked dandelions and presented them lovingly to their mothers and nurtured them (usually for less than 24 hours, ha ha) in a glass of water? As children, we think they are beautiful flowers. As adults in charge of meticulously cared for grass that isn't even native to the state we live in, what was once beautiful becomes the bane of an acceptable lawn's existence. I still think they are both beautiful. I think dandelions smell beautiful-on those summer days that are just warm enough to elicit the dandelions' smell and carry it on the breeze, I love breathing in the smell that reminds me of the joys of summer and evokes a feeling of nostalgia. I even think seeding dandelions are pretty (an unforgivable offense, I'm aware).

Until the point of the incident described above, I had been involved in conversations regarding the perception and definition of beings, beliefs and conclusions in our world. In one of the courses I took, I was made aware of the ridiculousness of our lawns and I could write and entire blog or book (people have) on that concept. I hadn't experienced the shock that accompanied living such a vivid contrast...I'm not trying to sound dramatic but imagine being so captivated and made happy by a thing of beauty only to be told it is defined as something that our society deems ugly and invaluable. For me, luckily this occurred with something I had little personal investment in. Let me clarify, although the larger idea of definitions and labels and judgments is a passionate one for me and one that I AM personally invested in, creeping Charlie wasn't a physical, emotional or spiritual feature I personally owned.

But what if it was? What if my "creeping Charlie moment" was the idea that light skin is prettier than dark skin or that big boobs are preferable to small ones or that women who keep their mouths shut and play nice all of the time and play a little dumb so as not to be intimidating are preferred over women who actually have a personality and opinions and have the audacity to voice them? Or that men have to be macho and not show emotion and bro friendships are based on discussing sports and women and hair is a necessity to be an attractive male and pink is okay if you wear it as a shirt now but not if you buy a pink bike or order a drink with an umbrella in it? In truth, I have had many of those moments, I just wasn't aware of what they were until I was older and exposed to enough ideas and experiences to know and understand. We are inundated with these concepts on a daily basis and many of these messages are subtle. Many of these messages are passed on by well-meaning people we look up to who haven't actually thought about the larger message they are sending.

Who decides what we are taught to see when we look at something? Who decides what judgment is made as to whether an innocuous trait, presence or belief is good or bad? What are the repercussions for living beings? What is the history of the decision making process in question? Who benefits from the definition and the judgment? Do these definitions and judgments still make sense and what are we teaching our children? One of the questions that is helpful in beginning to answer many of these other questions...who are the ubiquitous "they" usually credited with saying and doing most things we don't care to dig into deeper?

I cannot imagine my two year old niece, Brooklyn, picking dandelions or  creeping Charlie for her mom and dad or grandparents and being told they are just "weeds". I can't bear to think of her receiving the message that straight hair is preferred to the beautiful, wild curls she is blessed with. I can't bear to think of her being told that she's crazy because she's a woman and she's angry about something and she dared to express it (angry while female). It makes me sick to think that my sweet, sensitive nephew Trevor, with his old soul, might be given the message that his long hair he is so proud of isn't "manly" or that he's a "girl" (the fact that this is still an insult...to be called a girl...wtf) if he wears it in a pony tail. It breaks my heart to imagine him being told he's a girl or gay or less than because he likes the color pink and chose pink soccer cleat accents (a real concern voiced by his mother) (and less than what? why is someone better because they are male and don't use the color pink? have most people actually ever questioned the ridiculousness of these ideas?). Many of these determinations differ from place to place and culture to culture and history to history. This in and of itself should tell us everything we see in front of us hasn't always been that way and the things we have been taught haven't always been believed. At the very least, as thinking beings, I would hope this would prompt us to examine what we accept and own in our own lives and belief systems.

As for me, I'm going to keep enjoying the smell and sight of "weeds" where I live...when I have a lawn I care for, it's going native, which is better for our environment and ecology and health and which I think is aesthetically more beautiful than the uniform, high maintenance short grass lawns that have become the norm in the Midwest. And I will continue to question and examine things "they" tell us and determine who benefits and who has a voice in the designations and judgments. I will continue to challenge the people I encounter to do the same and I hope that I have the fortitude to address inaccuracies, misinformation and falsehoods when I am confronted with them. In the meantime, I'm going to stop to smell the dandelions.

Show and No Tell

Hey ya'll! It's my week for the blog and unfortunately I have zero time to crank out an 8 paragraph blog post this week. I will however show you some of the pretty cool things I've been up to this month!