hello…

SunsetMy last post was July 2nd, and I talked about things I’d learned in June.

I could fill a novel with what I’ve learned since then, honestly…

For instance, in the months, days and thousands upon thousands of hours since July 2nd I’ve learned that I know pretty much nothing about anything I thought I knew a lot about. I’ve come to realizations that I’m a broken individual who has been such for so long that I’m probably more handicapped than capable of relearning.

I’ve learned that where I once compulsively kept my house clean and tidy, with things in their places- it’s been almost equally as long since my house has been that way and I care very little. (anyone who truly knows me is shocked at this revelation alone.)

I’ve learned more about what love is, what love isn’t, what friendship is, what friendship is not and again how completely far I was from the mark.

My perception that things all workout in the end is shifted significantly, my faith is altered if not partially shattered…

And the worst part about the things I’ve “learned” I guess, would be the fears soul deep insecurities I kept even hidden from myself, which have risen to the surface and become daily realities.

Basically, it’s been one hell of a few months. Summer bled into fall in a completely natural way which left me wondering if either had existed independently at all. All I really know, amidst all of the realizations and conclusions is that I am not the girl I was on July 2nd, and I’m especially not the girl I was 2 years ago. Life is a journey and I guess we take them, whether we really want to or not. This one, I’m ready for…

Although a little less painful would be nice.

But I did love…

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I’ve talked about how much this year and I didn’t get along. I also know, sadly, that I’m not alone on this… (We talk a small amount about this year coming to a close and the things that we loved on this week’s episode of the podcast as well.) That being said, I’m not one to leave things on a sour note and I’d like to say goodbye to Two-Thousand-Fourteen by thanking him for a small list of the things I loved…

~ My daughter Amanda’s marriage to her husband J. This was by far the highlight of our year. He and his awesome, rough & tumble boys make our family so much better!

~ Our youngest daughter Gen’s baptism, in April. It was a beautiful sunset, in a cold river, and just a special moment shared with some of our favorite people on earth.

~ My husband’s 40th surprise party. It was fantastic fun! So good to have the best people on the planet (minus just a few who couldn’t make it) piled into one house.

~ Falling in strong like with my Fitbit, and having several friends (and my husband) follow suit. It’s a cool little thing and I love it!

~ A surprise, last-minute afternoon trip to New York City for lunch and a visit to see the 30 Rock tree. I love knocking things off my bucket list.

~ The miracle of our dear family friend Chris, as he experienced a recovery when it seemed like he wouldn’t, just a few weeks ago.

~ My BFF coming to visit in October.

~ That I have a partner to go through these hard times of parenting and house hunting with. He makes it all worthwhile…

~ His Zombie Run this summer. While I didn’t participate, it was VERY fun to watch and hear all about it!

~ My health improving after surgery and a very difficult recovery. I look forward to next year being even better!

~ Some really great music and films this year… Looking forward to so much more of that, for sure, in 2015!

 

 

home sweet home…

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We imagined a rural Wisconsin Christmas scene at our older daughter Amanda’s home as a holiday landscaped with snow and all of those country, winterish things which make Christmas feel like Christmas. Ironically, while our Idaho home is once again plagued with horrible roads and more inclement weather, the midwest remained sunny (minus enough morning rain to create mud), blue skied and very un-Christmassy.

Underneath the surface though, we drivers weren’t complaining much.

I’ve never been much of a waiter. It isn’t that I’m incapable of being patient, it’s more that I am wired to be proactive. Maybe it’s learned to emotionally rely on myself earlier than I should have, I don’t know. When something needs to happen, my instinct (and trust me when I say, it’s a fighting instinct) is to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

In July we took the leap to buy a house and move my mom here, from New Mexico, to live with us. She isn’t in the best health and as time passes, gets less and less capable of living alone. We have good credit, good income and good employment. Though we were VERY hesitant to buy a home (EVER) after we lost one in ’07 when the economy tanked in Michigan, we moved forward with this plan because it’s necessary and frankly it’s the right thing to do.

When Chw and I first married, back in 1994, we were unbelievably broke and incredibly naive. We had grown up in very opposite worlds and neither of us had been taught much about the real world or how to be a successful adult in it. We knew nothing about paying bills, managing money, budgeting, maintaining a household, etc. That being said, we have never gone without steady income, never been on government assistance (except for a short period on WIC), never been evicted, never had a utility turned off… These are things we are really proud of. This does not make us better than anyone else. Had one tiny fragment of a detail been different and any one of those things could’ve been another story. It wasn’t easy, and for a long time every single one of those things was a “barely” sort of thing…

When we got married, one thing we VOWED together, above anything else was that we would always open our home if someone needed it. We were unanimous in this, even though it was vowed out of a youthful naivety and passion without much common sense we realize now. That being said, we’ve held true to that. Over the past 20 years we have shared our home with 21 others. We never went looking for them, and we’ve never said “no”. So, of course, when the conversation regarding my mother came up, the decision was made. We were living in a 3 story brownstone and my disabled mother could never even visit us here (if her health were better) so we knew we’d have to move. We never imagined it would become the going-on-six-month nightmare it has been.

A couple of weeks ago we found our 3rd house opportunity. It was perfect (the perfect houses that suit my mom’s needs are very rare) but the owners aren’t willing to sell with our contingencies. That evening, after we were feeling hopeless with that disappointment, my mother fell at her home and lay on her porch for two hours in the cold. The market here hasn’t fully recovered yet and it’s grim. Had we known before we begun this journey that we’ve already lost so much money in, we could have begun it differently. Now it feels very much like the sand in our hour-glass is running out and ever corner we turn is a dead-end. Our realtor is a saint, but between you and me, we are tired and these months and months of stress have taken ugly tolls in our lives.

And then, we spent Christmas in Wisconsin. Both of our daughters together, there with Amanda’s family, and it was lovely. For blips of time we didn’t have to think about any of it. There was swimming, roller skating, gifts, ice cream, little boy laughter and hugs. It was blissful…

Walking in the door of our temporary home yesterday felt like a ten-ton weight crushed us. Tears filled me and I realized I just can’t go through this much longer. I’ve tried to stay pretty quiet here, because this nightmare has consumed everything and I didn’t want to rant about it. If you are a finger crosser, prayer, wisher, dreamer, hoper or positive energy sharer- I’ll take what you are willing to share…

On being very, very afraid…

Fear is like a cancer.

There can be one big, debilitating fear that cripples you or I to the point of inaction. As long as that inaction remains in effect though, the fear will spread and become other forms and types of all-consuming fear. A fear of failure can morph into an overwhelming anxiety of rejection. Very seldom do we hear of an agoraphobic sufferer who just woke up one day and could no longer leave their home. No. It’s slowly consuming.

As a writer I once feared failure. I once feared writing a book and attempting publication with query letters not leading to anything positive. This was such a consuming fear that when I finished my first book 9 years ago, I set the ridiculous goal of mailing out 25 query letters. I mailed off my 25 queries and of those queries I got 12 rejection “letters” back. (I say “letters” because if you’ve never had the privilege of receiving one, they are the most impersonal wastes of postage out there. over half of them were just strips of paper with a sentence typed out that said “not interested.” I have to believe when the very system began, it had a bigger point than that, but I digress…)

In regards to my first book, it was written from a passionate place. While fiction, it was inspired by the lives of the women in my family and when my grandmother passed away in 2006 and I made the personal decision that I’d rather keep that work tucked away and private, within our family, for now anyway. It worked out better, and I am grateful for the hindsight.

I no longer fear rejection, in that way. I personally believe the publishing industry is a broken and biased system so this is partly why… but the other reason is because, technically speaking I “failed” that ridiculous self-imposed goal, and I survived intact. I’m still alive and no parts of the world seemed to be disastrously affected by my failure so I realized it wasn’t a big deal.

Fear never really goes away though, like I said, Fear is like a cancer. Even once I’ve conquered one, I still need to keep myself in check because there are others. New ones that will creep up and my writing is where I’ll be incredibly vulnerable because this is my life’s work.

I finished my second book awhile ago. I say finished because it is written, from beginning to end. It also needs some revisions and I just can’t bring myself to look at it, so I’ve put it away for a while to work on another project. It is fiction, and a very personal story for me. I fear that it won’t be loved. I fear that it will be mediocre. Sometimes I get caught up in the harsh criticisms and judgements that people hide behind, online, and it terrifies me to put my work in their hands… And so I remember wise words from long ago that urge me to allow fear to motivate me, and I think “I can do that…” And I imagine fear motivating me to make this project that much better, but I also realistically embrace the inevitable- that it will happen and I have to be ok with that and not care.

As a young girl I knew my life was to write stories and words that would touch or inspire other people. As I grew, I knew that I had stories in my heart that others could relate to, and that could help them with their own hurts. This means everything to be but this hurdle between the place of fear and the having leaped- I just do not know how to get there…

So I worry the fear-cancer spreads. And sometimes I just look away and ignore my projects. And most days I dream of a boldness that has to exist somewhere deep inside of me, I just need to figure out how to harness and mount it so that I won’t be so afraid anymore…

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the Grace Apple Award…

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Last week we received an invitation to an awards ceremony at our daughter’s high school. The invitation clearly stated that the only students family’s who received the invitation would be students being honored with an award. When I shared this with Gen, she argued emphatically that she was NOT getting an award, and that it was a mistake.

Eventually she took it upon herself to ask. {We did not doubt, nor were we going to be the parents to email and ask “are you sure our kid is getting an award?”) Sure enough, they confirmed she was getting an award. This next phase of her self-doubt was to assume they’d created a special award just for her, just so she wouldn’t be the only kid there without one. Eventually I was able to explain to her that, if that were the case, the whole school would be involved, not a (very) small portion of the students.

Last night was the awards ceremony. She wore a dress, (we did not make her, she did this of her own accord, though blamed me later. *sigh*) and was a bundle of nerves. Our girl does NOT like not knowing something and it was making her feel very anxious.

Her award was for honor roll, which surprised her, though not us.

As she sat there, watching multiple kids get multiple awards for character, being a good/responsible student, etc. She grew more and more fidgety and agitated. I was glad it was a short ceremony, the whole thing was sort of like a kick in the teeth to her*, and she was emotionally at the end of her rope.

The thing is, she has made some really bad choices this school year. (mostly this semester) She’s a bright girl and did know better but she chose peer acceptance over school and in a few short weeks those friends will be long gone from her life and she will have absolutely nothing to show for it. These are things she will have to learn for herself, though God knows we’ve said them to her. That is where * comes in… She needed that “kick in the teeth”. She needed a real life kick back that showed her what she desperately wanted, and could have had. Should she be proud of honor roll? ABSOLUTELY, and we took her out for dessert to celebrate… But a small portion of her the first of many moments we all go through, last night. You know, the ones where we realize we should’ve planted the orchard 10 years ago, but didn’t and have nothing to show for it.

I’m just hoping she ALSO learns that it’s never to late to start sowing those seeds now.

And I’m also reminding myself that I still don’t always get this, so I can’t expect her to, at 15.