almost forty.

I've thought about this space often in the past month as I've posted not so often.
Good thoughts and bad thoughts. Thoughts of indifference.
I've been thinking about what to say here and my mind draws a blank.
Nothing feels all that important to share. And at the same time the things on my mind lately are far too important and personal to share here.
And I don't have any fabulous photos I'm just giddy about.

In fifteen days I turn 40, and I'm feeling rather blah about it all.
Another decade has almost passed, and it's left me with a lot of thinking about what has transpired since I turned 30:
got engaged
moved back in with my parents
planned a wedding
got married
quit a job
moved to a new city, leaving a city I had always called home behind
found a job
got laid-off
found another job - hated the commute
found a job two miles from home - loved the commute!
got pregnant
had a baby
went back to work
quit work
heartbreak over the death of a best friend
stayed home
had two seizures and broke a shoulder blade all in one night
started taking medication I will be on for the rest of my life
mono
stayed home with my sweet little Max
tried like crazy to have another child
then threw a crap-load of money at the attempts to try to have a second child
gave-up trying to have a second child
more heartbreak over the death of my beloved Maggie dog
took a few college credit classes here and there
drove Max here there and everywhere - school, speech appointments, swim lessons, tball, soccer, parties, etc.
watched my only boy get on a school bus last September
lots of trips to the city that will always be home
lots of visits with my sister friends in that city that will always be home
laughter
smiles
hugs
tears
arguments
angry words
more tears
more laughter
enthusiasm and dreams traded in for reality of mid-life adulthood

Who knew you could shove so much into a decade?
No wonder I'm exhausted and feel more like I'm turning 50.
No wonder people say the 30s are the hardest years.

I always thought the older I got the more sure of my self and my life I would feel.
But I think I felt surer of myself when I was in my 20s and in college.
The path was clear. My mission was clear. I wasn't doing too many things at once.
I wasn't wearing too many hats and trying to fill others' cups and spreading myself too thin.
I was simply and unapologetically, ME.

Funny thing about the passage of time - looking back at gives you more points with which to reference what was really good, what was really bad, when you felt sure of things, when you had no clue. Sure, if you had asked me when I was 23 and just starting my MA if I knew what I was doing, I'd have looked you straight in the eye and told you "No, but I'm just going to do it anyway. And I'll do it with flying colors and bells on." Looking back - that 23 year old sure as hell knew what she was doing. That girl knew what she was doing far more than the almost-40 year old person I've become. Ask me that today and I'd likely not look you in the eyes, shrug, burst into tears and tell you I have no clue what I'm doing or who I am anymore.
Mid-life crisis? (Yeah, just a bit...)

So I'm left wondering, "what's the point of this post?... why am I writing it all here?...who's going to read it?...." I'm writing this to leave this as one of those reference points that I will look back on five, ten, twenty years from now and be able to say, "Yes. That was hard, but you got through it. See, it all turned out okay."

I'm in that place of "what's the point? does any of this really even matter anymore?" (I know it does, but humor me for a bit..)
Maybe it's the monotony of motherhood.
Maybe it's a lack of sole focus on just me that comes with marriage and motherhood.
Maybe I took off in such a sprint once I got out of college 15 years ago, that I didn't take the proper time to take care of myself along the way.
And now I'm paying the price for all that sprinting.
Sitting on the sidelines of my life, head in my hands, dripping in sweat, salty tears on my face, trying desperately to catch my breath while I wait for that 25 year old me to slowly catch-up. And man, I think that 25 year old me is a little pissed I left her behind like that...oh boy, have I got some explaining to do...

I'm not sure anymore.
I've over-thought it to death and it's rolling over in its grave now.

Forty will come and go. It's just another day.
Another trip around the sun.
And I'll keep on keeping on...
Maybe I'll slow it down a bit this next decade.
Maybe I've learned from some of the mistakes of the past.
I suppose time will tell.

the box of shame.

A few weeks ago our microwave broke, so we got a new one. And since I was done with white appliances, and chose a black microwave we kind of had to get a new black oven/stove top. And then since it was driving my husband crazy to have two black appliances, a stainless fridge and a white dishwasher, we bought a new black dishwasher to match. (No new fridge, we just got that one last year.)
Anyway, he installed the dishwasher and we were left with a big cardboard box. And everyone knows that kids love big boxes, right?
So my Maxwell - what does he make? A box of shame. At the time he had been on a kick of watching Despicable Me - and if you've seen it you know the scene where the girl is in the "box of shame" at the home for girls.

So Max made a box of shame. And quickly proceeded to get Sammy to go in it. And then quickly proceeded to convince Gma to help hold the box closed so Sammy couldn't get out, but could only peek through the "window" in the box. Yes, he even used a lot of tape!

She looked so sad in there. Staring up at Gma as if to ask, "Why are you partaking in keeping me in this box? What have I ever done that's so awful? I'm not a bad dog."
It was cute and pathetic all at the same time.

And a week later Max got in the box. Grinning from ear to ear at that point because it had become the office in his huge fort made of couch cushions and blankets.

But it got me thinking - especially after reading Daring Greatly and The Gifts of Imperfection -
how many of us recognize the difference between guilt and shame?...
There is a difference. I didn't realize it until I had read Brene's books above.
Guilt tells us we DID something bad. Our behavior was bad.
Shame tells us we ARE bad. That as a person, who did something not so good, that automatically makes our entire being and who we are - BAD.
See the difference? Guilt is about behavior. Shame is about our very being and who we are as a person.
HUGE difference, huh?
Guilt makes us feel bad about something we said or did.
Shame slowly erodes at our sense of self, our sense of worthiness, and sense of whether we are lovable just as we are - good, bad and ugly combined.
Shame leaves us wondering if we are really "enough."

I'm the first to admit that it's quick to make the jump from "your behavior was bad" to "you are bad."
I've put Max in that box.
I've put my husband in that box.
I've put friends and family in that box.
And worse yet, I continue to willing put myself in that box, and label myself as the bad mom/wife/friend/daughter/sister/photographer/etc.
"You yelled at Max - you're a bad person."
"You weren't patient with Max - you're a bad person."
"You snapped at Eric because you're in a bad mood - you're a bad person."
"You yanked on the dog's leash because she's taking forever to go potty while you stand in the pouring rain - You're a bad person." I've shamed myself to the moon and back, ten ways till Sunday.

Think about it. Really think about it...
How many times have you mistaken poor choices in behavior of others as them being bad.
We do it all the time as parents, right? We've all said to our kid, "You're a bad boy/girl. Don't do that again!" When we really should be saying, "Your behavior was not nice/uncalled for/disrespectful/(fill-in-the-blank) Please do not BEHAVE that way again."
See the difference?
Big difference.

That box is still sitting in our living room. Part of me wants to toss it. Burn it even, as a symbol of telling shame where the heck it can go. And part of me wants to keep it around as a reminder of how often I put others and myself in that box.

And if you are a parent or spouse or sibling or daughter/son or friend to anyone on God's green earth, I highly suggest you read Daring Greatly. And then read it again.

My deep thoughts for Monday.
a.

walking alone.

If given the chance right now (okay, well most days, if I'm being really honest) - I'd walk that beach alone.

I'm a quiet person, and tend to keep to myself most of the time. Even with the best of friends and family. Sure, I'm a girl and talk about my feelings and all that girly stuff, but only with a small, small group of people - like maybe three at the most.

I tend to mirror those around me. Put me with an extrovert and I'm just as chatty and conversational as the next gal. Sit me down with someone quiet and shy, and I'll quietly sit there wondering what in the world to say to that person.

I don't like hanging out with big groups of people. The bigger the group, the bigger my insecurities - and the quieter I get. Even if that group contains really close friends. And let's not even talk about big groups of women...(scary!!)

One of my best friends from my first couple of years at college, once told me that when she first met me in business class she thought I was a totally snob because I was so quiet and didn't talk to anyone. That was when I realized that my quietness could come across the wrong way. Of course, I did think the same of her at the time. I wonder how often my quietness comes across as aloofness? I have heard it again from another person I recently met. I suppose I need to think about that a bit more and maybe make more of an effort to be friendly.

I enjoy the company of others, but really like to be alone. I've especially noticed this about myself since Eric has been working in California. Sure, Max and Sammy are in the house and around, but it's not quite the same in some unexplainable way. I notice I'm a happier version of myself when Eric is home. Even if we aren't doing anything together - it's nice to have another adult in the house. I guess it's just nicer to be able to be alone in the company of others. It doesn't feel quite as lonely. (I realize now I might not be making any sense...)

And while I've said all of this above about me enjoying being alone and all, the "little kid"(and yes, we are all still nurturing the little kid inside us) in me wants so desperately to be the girl that everyone wants to call, and make plans with, and email. I guess that's that human need to feel wanted, to feel important (and not in the "you're important to your son" kind of way. I know I'm very important to my son and parents and husband).  Perhaps years of not being the girl who people are just dying to call and email and make plans with, has ever so subtly turned me inward - part survival mechanism, part coping mechanism. If I become the inward person and start laying down the bricks one by one, then perhaps I will convince myself that I don't really need to feel wanted by others. And that the "popularity" the kid in me seeks, is childish and silly. If I take control of the keeping others at arms length, then it becomes something I have chosen to do, and feels a lot less like others having the control. Right?...

Just some thoughts on vulnerability on a grey, Northwest Tuesday afternoon. More to come on all of this stuff later. Why I'm choosing to work this stuff out publicly on this blog is beyond me. I guess it's a step toward being more vulnerable.  You can join me on this journey, or just skip these personal posts.
For those of you who have taken the time to read with an open and loving heart - I thank you.

a.

PS - and if you are remotely interested in really digging deep and getting down and dirty with your vulnerabilities  I urge you to read Daring Greatly by Brene Brown.

And no, that's not me in that photo above, walking alone. That's my sweet friend, Heather. :)

And a thank you to my sweet friend, Karli, for the emails today that prompted this post. ;)

unlike any other.

It's easy to get caught-up in the masses. To think that you are just like everyone else out there. We get caught-up in the latest fashions, and the latest thinking, and keeping up with the Jones'. All most of us have ever really wanted, from the time we were in grade school, was to be like the rest. To fit in. To be liked. And at middle age, most of us still go to great lengths to be like everyone else. Skinny jeans, long sweater, cute boots, long hair with just the perfect length bangs. Check! We fit in! Or at least we look like we fit in. But I would venture to guess that there is a lot of suppression of our real self in those attempts. And underneath that suppression, a lot of sadness.

We will likely always live in a world where conforming to the masses is far more acceptable than making our own statement.

But I sincerely hope you know you are unlike any other.

Yes, You. 

The sound and tone of your voice, your brain, your fingerprints, and irises are nothing like your mom or dad's, your child's, or your best friend's. They are not like your spouse's, or your child's teacher, or your favorite politician's or the pastor of your church. So while you may nod your head in agreement with those around you, please know that you are not them. And they are not you. 

No matter how much you try to fit in among the masses, you will never fit in.

And that is such a beautiful thing. 

Let your unique voice be heard. Don't be afraid to brush-up against the masses and say something different. Do not let your overwhelming desire to fit in, override the pieces of you that make you unlike any other. God did not fearfully and wonderfully make you just to watch you float adrift on the current of popular style, opinion and thinking. He made you unlike any other. Cherish that. Guard it with your heart. Let it shine. Think for yourself, not for the masses.

You get this one life; this one version of you.

Stop trying to be like everyone else, and instead - be unlike any other.

a case of the mondays: randomness.

It's been awhile since I've posted some random thoughts here. I've got plenty of them, just haven't been in the frame of mind to post them here lately.

1. And speaking of posting here and on FB and on IG - I sometimes (ok, not sometimes, but often times lately) wonder, "what's the point?" I mean really, FB is just another place where words seem to travel out of my mouth and into a vast pit of nothingness. I sometimes want to say. "Hello out there?.." Really, it's become another place where I feel lost among the masses. And IG - all of those photos out there...I'm not printing any of them, so why am I taking so many with  my phone? And this space - I have so much to say, but I know I can't say half of what I'd like to. So, what's the point in any of it?...

2. Which leads to this second random thought - maybe it's time to bid farewell to FB. My real friends know how to contact me and will take the time to contact me if they want to see what I'm up to. I can't say I missed it the two weeks I was off FB in the summer, and I'm fairly certain noone missed my updates. I've often described FB "conversations" as being with a group of people talking and saying something only to have everyone else just go on talking as if they didn't hear a word I've said. I've experienced this before - try to jump in on a conversation, comment on a post, only to have what I've said fall of deaf ears apparently. Why bother commenting. Why bother posting. As I said above, what's the point in any of it?...

3. I'm still really disappointed that I have put myself out there and offered to do family photos for friends and family in the area and no one has shown any interest. None. Nada. Zip. Zero. No one. You know what that feels like?... It leaves me thinking that everyone just says I take great photos, but they really think otherwise. Actions speak louder than words in my book. And all I'd really love to do is take some lovely photos of some lovely families in the area and edit to my hearts content. And then give those families back a lovely gift to treasure years from now. I see other online/blogging friends doing it and it kills me every time because I know that dream isn't going to happen for me. And I wonder what I'm doing wrong, or if I'm really not that talented. I begin to question it all then - why I even take pictures in the first place. Maybe I'm not that great. Maybe this isn't my talent. Maybe I've got it all wrong.

4. (I realize at this point you're thinking you might want to skip on ahead to the next blog on your list of blogs to read... I never said this random list was going to be full of rainbows and unicorns. Skip on ahead if you so desire...)

5. I'm tired all of the time now. As in - I could go take a two hour nap twice a day - tired. Seizure medication changes will do that to a person. I don't think people get it either, and I really shouldn't expect that by explaining it to them will understand what I mean by sleepy all the time. The only real way to understand would be to have them try the medications. I'm tired of being tired all of the time. It effects my mood and patience. And it no doubt has an effect on Max.

6. I'm beginning to realize that some friends come into your life and serve a purpose for you at that point in time/teach you something, and then quietly exit your life. It's never easy, even when you know it's happening.

7. I know we will move one of these days. Sooner than later I am sure. Part of life in construction work. Do I want to go just anywhere? No. Not at all. Especially not to another small town. And not to the other side of the country. I'm a big city gal. Always will be. I crave the anonymity of a large city. My hope is that in a year or two we will be back in Seattle. Nearer to family that is available to help with Max so that I can go back to school or work.

8. I think it's obvious by now that I've spent far too much time in my own head lately...ruminating, over-thinking, stressing-out. It's hard for me not to do it though. I try to keep busy so I don't think about things going on in my life. Working used to keep all of this at bay. There was no time to think when focused on a project at work. No time to worry about these other life issues. But as a stay-at-home-mom, I find my mind wanders; I over-think, I worry. Cleaning toilets and vacuuming isn't exactly the intellectual stimulation needed to occupy my brain. So I push it deep down in the hopes that I can squash it to death...leave it all behind and never think about those things again. (No, it doesn't work...) It all bubbles back up to the surface. Oddly, and unfortunately, some of these things are the very first things I think of if I wake-up in the middle of the night. And it's always the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think of at night. It's like a shadow - haunting me all the time as I desperately try to out-run its grip. 

9. I need something else in my life. Not to say I don't love being a mom and being able to stay home. But most of my work is "doing" for others. I need to do something for me again. Preferably school. Maybe work. I don't know. I do know that I'm craving something more. I need some intellectual stimulation in a desperate way.

That's probably enough deep thoughts for this Monday morning. I realize this may not be real exciting or uplifting - these thoughts of mine. I thought about not sharing them, and deleting this post, but I'm going to be honest in this space. It's my space. I will say what I want to say here. And if people don't like it, they don't have to read. And I'm okay with that.

linked 52: sunset (aka God's show)

God showing his Glory on a frazzled feeling day filled with a trip to the neurologist and back to school night for Max (who knew going to elementary school was so complicated now? - for the parents.) I stepped outside with my iPhone to see if the sunset was going to be good. I had done so the past few days in hopes of capturing a photo for the theme this week. What a wonderful surprise to see such beautiful clouds and vibrant colors. (And believe me when I say that these photos don't do it justice)

I wondered where everyone else was... How was it I was the only one out here in the culdesac admiring this stunning view? Max came out at one point, but that was only to show me the safety goggles his dad had given him (um, yeah, cool buddy...but look at that amazing sunset!) He quickly went back inside.

For some odd reason I am continued to be perplexed by the fact that I was the only one out there.

Surely God didn't mean this sunset just for little old me...

Surely he meant it for all of us...

My conclusion was an unfortunate one - that even God must compete for our attention these days; for our time away from our phones and iPads and computers and TV and books and dishes waiting to be cleaned and clothes waiting to be folded. For our attention from all of our worldly distractions, and our laundry list of things that just have to be done, and our busyness, and our thoughts.

Truth be told it made me a bit sad.

For even I came inside to a husband and son happily absorbed in some other activity, oblivious to the stunning, you'll-never-see-another-sunset-exactly-like-this-one-again, going on outside.

So my hope for your this holiday weekend - put down your "stuff", turn off the TV, gather everyone in your family and go outside. Catch God's stunning show. Ooo and ahhh over the colors and light and drink it all in. Your "stuff" and your stuff to do will all be there when you come back inside (yes, unfortunately the dishes hadn't miraculously been washed or the clothes folded when I came back inside...)

Then come back and tell me how standing small beneath a beautiful sunset sky made your God seem just so big, and how it made you feel like that show was just for you.

52 Linked 2012 A new theme every week.

Michelle, Tracey, Stacey, Heather, Jenn, Jessica, Amanda, Amanda, Kristin, Sara, Tracy, Lesli, Janet, Naomi, Rhonda, Rose, Carla, Heidi, Kristin, Heather, Amy, Liza, Veronica, Kristi, Georgia