“So. That’s what I got. And. So far… so good. Maybe two thousand 15 will get more from me. But for now, I figure, we’ve made our bed, and we can lie in it.”
That was me. Last year. About this time. As we welcomed in 2014, our life was a little bit unpredictable… and so, my one goal for last year:
To make my bed every day.
And guess what?! I did it {wellllll… we did it}! I know. I, too, am waiting for my Peace Prize for completing a BHAG that will change humanity as we know it.
Making my bed every day taught me three very important things…
1. You can have a sense of accomplishment from completing something that is a goal of yours, no matter how big, small, or inconsequential to the rest of the human race.
2. Comforters look better when they are not scrunched and shoved toward the footboard on your bed.
3. Doing something for 365 days makes it a habit.
So, what am I doing about 2015? Well, I’ve not really been a resolution gal but I’ve decided, 2015, is going to get more of me. About 2 months ago, as I stated in a previous post, I realized something. For the past 7 New Year’s, I have been either a) pregnant or b) nursing. And now… we are officially official on the “being done” train. Because my doctors don’t want me to die, and well, I don’t really want to either. But I have to tell you an even bigger part of that realization. As horrible as it is to admit. As ridiculous as this will sound to the mother’s of my mom’s generation. And as guilty as this makes me feel as a mom to three boys whom I love dearly… For all of those new year’s or at least at times throughout the months within those years, I’ve felt as though my life has been on hold. I’ve been soooo focused on our goal of our popcorn children, and getting it all in before 32, that, at times, I let the future keep me from being present. Not allll the time, every day. But the bigger picture. Children have been the main goal in my mind. And so anything that was not for those children was pretty much not entertained. I know… I’ve been living through these years, so yes… I have been moving forward. But as I’ve been creating life, and taking care of little lives, and navigating my way through these early years of motherhood, I’ve felt, at times, as though the person who I was, or who I want to be, has been absent from the party. Or maybe, as I’ve written on these pages, I just don’t know where I fit… the person that was there before motherhood ran through my veins. And I would guess that if I asked some of you, you’d say you have felt the very same way.
Part of it is, I will never be her again. You are not her, I continue to remind myself. But who am I? Outside of being Barrett, Jonah, and Harrison’s mom, and Adam’s wife… who am I? I don’t have a job to tell me. I don’t have a boss to ask me to step it up. I don’t have anyone to report to, really. Except my own self. And so now that I have a bit of a moment to breathe… to not be harboring or hosting or playing restaurant to a small human… now I am taking some time to think about such things.
I know, for certain, that I love being a mama. And a wife. Those things, I know. But there are ways I think I can become a better wife. And mama.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I have had money, stashed away, for over three years now, for guitar lessons. And I have a guitar. But I haven’t made it a priority, because I have felt guilty leaving my husband after a long day of work, or leaving the kids during bedtimes, or not being there to commune around the dinner table. I’ve felt guilty for leaving all of that for a hobby. But I think, we are what we love, not what we do. I love music. It moves me in a way that I think may be unnatural. And I’m okay with that. So this year. This year. Guitar Lessons. I will do it.
Another thing that I love. Another thing I have a hard time talking about to people because it, too, is a hobby… is writing. After a realization in late 2014, I started a skeleton for a book. I have a better working title. I have ideas for my chapters. And I have the stair steps in place. I have talked for years about not only starting but completing a book. Actually writing my own book. And this year. This year. I will finish it. And I will send it off to some mythical people who will then not read it. But that is beside the fact. I will do it.
I’ve given up entire food groups for 3 out of the last 5 years. I’ve modified exercise for the sanctity of my breastmilk supply. I’ve worn a nursing bra for over 1000 days of the last few years. I want to focus on listening to my body and what it needs and how it feels and what it does. I will do it. This year.
I’ve been yelling. At my children. And it honestly makes me feel like crap. There’s no other way around it. I’ve been yelling because I am not doing anything to water my own yard. And so, I am working on a goal to yell less. To think more before I react. I will do it.
The thing is… I’ve felt tired. I’ve felt pretty meh about being home full-time {I know. You’re stunned}. My skin is a raging mess. I don’t read enough. There are just things that I want to refocus on and figure out. And a New Year, oddly seems, like the right time to find the old me a new perspective. And I say oddly, only because I’ve never needed a new year to motivate me. But I said to Adam the other day, “Do you think people would refocus as much at the New Year if it didn’t follow the chaos of the Holiday season? Like, if it were in July… would people feel the need for renewal?” Because this year, the holidays, while incredible, were also draining… and so, it’s a great time… for this year… for me… to recalibrate a bit.
So, in a totally unoriginal fashion, much like Oprah and others have done {including my friend, and very talented blogger Kenzie, over at Hello Neverland}, I decided in mid-December, I am choosing a word for my year. And that word, is {DRUMMMMMROOOOOLL}… WHOLE.
I am going to be focusing on me. My whole self. My sanity. My health. My marriage. My relationships. My children. My whole self.
Sounds selfish, right? Then color me selfish! But by getting my house in order, I am hoping to find ways to affect the people and community around me in a more positive way. To find things that fulfill me.
WHOLE. That’s it.
But I can’t just go all-in. I don’t do well at that. So, along with making my bed every day, each month, I am making two goals. Two goals geared toward my whole self. Because you know what I realized? I am actually really good at reaching my goals. This was evidenced, I think, in my former profession {which, at the time, I never would have given myself credit for}. And in my life as a mom {I mean… I didn’t eat dairy for a year. Not a smidge of dairy. That’s at least got to prove willpower, right?}. And I totally saved the real sex business for my wedding night. All in all, I apparently have much more gumption than I give myself credit for. So, I think, if I put my mind to it, I can accomplish two goals for each month of 2015.
So for January…
1. I am not going to yell at my kids. Unless of course they burn the house down. Or severely injure a sibling.
But seriously people. Somedays, I think I am yelling just to feel heard. In fact, I would say, most days I am. Like, by the time I am yelling, it is not to better communicate. It’s to attempt to get my point across. Or to inspire a desired response. But all that the yelling does is makes it louder. And ramps things up to a place they don’t need to be. And the reality is, when I really think about it, I should be able to communicate better than that… maybe? I AM the adult here, right? I recently re-read a piece from Hands Free Mama {who is the bee’s knees}, on how she realized her children almost seemed afraid of her anytime she yelled. As I read those words, I thought, yes. I agree. There have been times recently where I have yelled and I’ve felt as though Barrett or Jonah cowered a bit. And as I read her words, I realized how much emotion I felt thinking of their little faces, afraid? Maybe. And I didn’t like it. So no yelling.Does that seem nuts? Extreme? It is, I think. And I went cold turkey. This does not mean I will be all laissez-faire about my children’s behavior. I am not about to let the inmates run the assylum. It means I will remind myself that I am the parent. Man… I am the parent?! Crap. I am hoping to be able to be stern, when necessary, without completely flipping my lid, and going all, NO MORE WIRE HANGERS, on my kids.
Do you not ever yell? Well, then I want some of what you’re on. Just kidding. Kind of.
Will I be able to go thirty-one days without letting off steam? I don’t know. But I am really hoping so. I have already managed to control my anger during a glittered Kate Spade incident, and a naptime poop smearing extravaganza {more on that tomorrow}. Only time will tell how this all plays out.
2. Stop putting myself down.
I am 32 years old and I put myself down. And I’m not alone. I hear my momma friends do it all the time. I hear my non-momma friends do it all the time. I hear my momma do it all the time. You know who does it way less? My husband. And other men I know. But women… we’re really good at it. Why do we do this to ourselves? The world is mean enough… why do we fuel our own fire? I constantly tell myself I’m not intelligent because I don’t fit, what I have always viewed as, the classic criteria for smart people. And I know that staying home with my kids perpetuates that… because when people ask what I do… I find myself thinking I’m crapping away my education. But that’s stupid. I’m not crapping away anything. I am testing my brain daily… in ways that my 20 year old self never could have imagined. So that’s done.And I’m done downplaying my writing. Because while everyone can be a writer these days, I’ve been doing this blogging bit for over 6 years. So it’s more than just a hobby at this point. It’s not a profession. But it matters. To me. And I’m the only one living my life. And I think that the best way I can teach my kids to have confidence. To believe in themselves. And to shoot for the stars. Is if I stop putting myself down and instead, focus on my strengths and goals for a bit.
So those are my two goals. I know. Not exactly Malala Yousafzai-worthy. But I’ve got to figure me out, just for a bit. And I feel as though that’s an okay thing to invest time in.
Are you doing any resolving for 2014? Will you have a theme or a word for your year? Are you putting money down against me making it 31 days yell-free? Game on, friend. Game. On.
It’s a WHOLE New Year… and I couldn’t be happier.
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