honesty

It seems like a lot of my thoughts stem from something I've read.  Reading is one of the great joys in life.  On this particular occasion I was reading a magazine with an article on eliminating stress, or at least I think that was what it was about.  The only thing I remember is it talked about being honest.  The author expressed that we should be honest about what our lives are really like.  Not in just the words we say, but in our actions.  Actions?  Huh...I had never really thought about actions being honest or dishonest.

Sometimes we put on appearances that things are different than they really are.  Maybe we pretend to have more money than we actually do by buying on credit.  Or when we have a party and our house is perfectly clean, not a fingerprint on the fridge, or dish in the sink or dust bunny behind the TV.  Is that a true representation of who we are?  I am particularly sensitive to this subject of housekeeping because I am such a terrible housekeeper.  I love having a clean organized house, but there seems to be so many other things I would rather be doing.  Inviting people over is at times the only way I actually get it clean.  The pressure of someone seeing my house a disaster is what motivates me to get it clean.  The author of the article suggested that when someone says, "I love your house" or "Your house looks great" that we reply by saying something something like, "Thanks it took me three days to clean it."  Ha ha, that's the truth.  Sometimes it does take me three days to clean my mess.

I love seeing how other people live.  And I love looking at homes.  Before we had children, Q and I used to go to real estate open houses just for fun.  So a few years ago when I went to a friend's home for the first time, she offered to show me her house, and I was delighted.  It is a modest home they had built several years prior.  As we came into the master suite, we went into the bathroom and she said, "please excuse the mess, but we live here."  Ahhh....those were the sweetest words I had ever heard, "we live here".  Of course her house isn't perfect, with a few clothes on the floor and things on the bathroom counter.  It was an eye opening moment for me.  Those words gave me permission to not be embarrassed that we LIVE in our home.  That kids make messes. That some days I leave my shoes and clothes lying on the ground at the foot of my bed because I was just too tired to put them away properly.  That the dishes don't always get done before I go to bed. And there is a constant mound of clean laundry that needs to be folded in the chair in my bedroom. Those words helped me realize that I don't have to be perfectly tidy to allow others into my home. What a relief.

So with that in mind, excuse me while I go do the dishes and pick up the living room because a friend will be here any minute.

little people

I think I've turned a corner in my life.  It's been coming on for a while.  Let me explain.  I used to not like other people's children...very much.  I know it sounds horrible.  Aren't women suppose to be the nurturing ones?  Don't get me wrong, I love my own children, I just didn't have a desire to be around other people's children for extended periods of time.  Two hours was my limit on babysitting.  After that I was constantly checking the clock, wondering when their parents would come.  

A few years ago, a friend told me how much her children loved their uncle.  And she appreciated how he would talk to each of them individually and make them feel special because he was genuinely interested in them.  Something changed in me on that day.  I realized that children, weren't just children, they were little people.  And if you took interest in them, they could become your friend, not just your friend's child.  So I gave it a try.  Amazingly it worked.  Once I began to see children as individuals, they became so much more interesting.  It became fun to learn about them and I began to enjoy their company.

Years have past since this initial trial and the children around me have become important in my life.  Today I spent the entire day with other people's children.  And at the end of the day I am happy.  Happy to know and influence such interesting little people.

memoirs

I have often thought about writing a book.  A novel is out of the question because it requires dialog, and I am no good at writing that.  But recently I have read books that are memoirs of the lives of women.  I thought these books were so fascinating.  I loved looking into other peoples lives and seeing how they live.  The craziness in their life, made me feel as though there were others who experienced hardship mixed in with the fun and good, just like mine.

So I thought about it.  Yes, I could write a memoir about my life.  My childhood was just crazy enough, and I turned out just normal enough that it might work.  Then I realized that if I were to write a book about my life, I would have to write ALL of it.  The good, the bad, and the truly horrible.  Which would mean talking about things that have never been talked about.  It would exploit the actions of all of us,  myself included, some known and some unknown. Honesty would mean my family would be offended and embarrassed and I could lose some very important people in my life if it were ever to be published.

I think that, at least for now, there are some things that should remain unspoken.

finding balance

I struggle between wanting to give my children everything and wanting them to learn the value of work.  I want them to know that life isn't free but sometimes just want to give them something special "just because".

I recently read the book, "Glass Castle" that depicted the amazing life of a family who lived on nothing.  Among other things, they ate moldy bread and canned ham with maggots and food from other people's trash.  They lived in a shack and as children the loved going to school because it meant they would be warm and dry and have at least one meal that day.   They considered everyday items like shoes, clothes, baths and food as luxuries.  My emotions were so conflicted between feeling sorry for them and having a great admiration for them that I would put the book down not knowing if their life, or my life was better?  While I realize that my life with its warm home and bountiful food to eat is probably more desirable, I wonder if the plentiful lifestyle is detrimental to my children's upbringing.  Are they learning anything from being given everything?  Do they understand that although they may not like the taste of their chicken enchilada dinner, that somewhere a child will go without dinner tonight?  That ice cream is a luxury and not a necessity?

I was particularly struck by my internal struggle when in the book, the parents have no presents for their children for Christmas so the father took each child aside and gave them each a chance to pick and name their very own star from the sky.  I compare that to our own Christmas, with presents overflowing from beneath the tree and stockings stuffed with sweets and gifts.  Our children were so excited to see the presents on Christmas morning and loved their new bicycles and toys and clothes.  Then a few days later we gathered with our friends at a fun function to find out that our children were the only children in our group of friends that did not get Nintendo DS's from Christmas.  How do I explain that Santa Claus gave them DS's but not us?  How do I explain to them that we are the "poor" ones in our group, when in fact we are not "poor" at all, but do not have quite as much as others?  I tried to explain that each family is different, that we all live with different budgets and different lifestyles, but to this day (two months later) I daily hear the complaint that they do not have these hand-held video games that everyone else seems to have.  How do I help them be happy with what they have, instead of yearning for what they do not?

How do I help MYSELF be happy with what I have instead of looking at others in envy?

I find solace in the fact that I even ask the question.  The day that my life becomes extreme and I give in to one side or the other is when I should start to worry.  I suppose that is what life is about, finding balance in all things.

our friends family

I love my family.  My parents, my siblings, my exteneded family.  But I have another family.   They are my "friends family".  We don't get to choose our family when we are placed hereon earth and sometimes our personalities do not mesh as well as we'd like.  But our friends are the family we choose.  The family we pick because we admire their qualities, like their personalities, and enjoy just being with them.  We love them as if they were our own families.  But they have families of their own, and at times they must do what is necessary to provide for and protect those families.

We have an amazing group of friends.  People we admire emensely.  It is always sad when one of them moves away so that they can provide for their family.  I admire those that are willing to do what is necessary to be provident providers.  Even if it means that we don't get to see them as often.

When I think about my Friends Family I am amazed at the goodness people have within them.  They are amazing examples goodness.  In each of my friends I find many qualities that I try to emulate.  Just by example they encourage me to be better than I am.

Thank you friends.