This Camel's Back

I won't deny I've had trouble stringing a post together this week. I am all right, but I am in a bit of a personal struggle. There's a lot on my plate, as is usual. But I think I've reached a place where every new dilemma feels like the straw that breaks this camel's back.

Today, a couple of things pulled me from my rumination. The first is a sight I always welcome on my long walk up the hill to my office from where I park. You have to look closely to see it here....

"Don't Freak Out."

This is good advice. It's the graffiti version of one of my most simple mottos: Keep Calm and Carry On. But this works. Especially when I'm making that transition from long solo commute full of million-detail thought up the hill to office and email inbox and colleagues and work.

Another item that shook me emotionally and slapped some sense in to me was this beautiful post, this beautiful mission from my new favorite blog to follow: Momastery. Blogger Glennon has my admiration, my attention, my utter astonishment. And just now, as I surfed over there to search for the post link to add here, I found a new post from Glennon about just how successful today's mission was. And as I read and marveled, I had that wonderful sensation of every pore on my body, from my toes up, giving me chills because, yes, we all matter. Each one of us can make a difference. And I know that $10 I sent to the cause is the best $10 I've spent all week, maybe all month.

I am thankful for these things that pull me out of my silent reverie of worry, of misery, of uncertainty. Tonight, after we got the kids settled into bed, Shrek came down for his ultimate trifecta: popcorn/loveseat/TV, but I stayed upstairs to think, to clean, to shower, to regroup.

And my brain started working a little better. While I really don't think I need to be adding even the tiniest thing to my To Do list, I have decided there are some things I need to do, pronto! Here, in no certain order, are things I MUST do soon:

• I must schedule and keep an appointment to see an old, dear girlfriend. Rector, you know who you are. I need you. 
• I must connect with Shrek. There must be a date and heels and aftershave. Just us. Soon.
• I must help others every chance I get. I must step out of myself and my worries. I must alleviate those of someone else. 

And that's enough for now. Because I am really looking at the kids. I am really enjoying these days of mothering. I really do know what is important. But sometimes the burden of keeping all of it running, my whole life, under duress, knocks me into mental paralysis. And the worst thing I can do is what is most natural to me: to be my own worst critic. 

So, I see you, self. You're OK. You're doing fine. Don't freak out. We'll make it.

Pushed

I've come full-circle today. I woke up in a very different mindset and mood than I'm in now. I was moving in a fog. I was not myself. This week and its events all combined to make me feel a bit emotionally dead. Sounds terrible, but I think I was getting there. I have had trouble getting anywhere on time, trouble making decisions, trouble seeing the forest for the trees. I was a lesser version of myself, one that had been pushed, pushed, pushed. More than anything, I was on autopilot.

After I got Lil to the bus stop, readied the boys, cleaned a bit and and took off, late, to my OB check-up, I was told at the receptionist's window that the OB was stuck in surgery and I could either wait a long time or reschedule. I should have had some kind of reaction to this. But I remember thinking, matter-of-factly "Oh, of course, he's stuck in surgery. Of course, he can't see me." And I did have a fleeting thought of well wishes for the woman/women he was operating on, that all would be okay, that all had gone well. But, by and large, I didn't feel anything. I rescheduled, bundled the boys back up, ran a couple errands and headed home.

Oh, I also stopped at Tim Horton's for the second day in a row for a medium cafe mocha and Timbits. (Thank you, Tim. Sometimes, you are my only friend.)

I got home, gathered some packages, hit the Web for a quick break. And the boys played. They played so well together. The sun started to shine, and something let go of its hold on me. I felt the heaviness of the morning fading. I put on my shoes, picked up clutter throughout the house and proceeded to vacuum the hell out of it.

And cleaning is the right thing to do to bring me out of a funk, or lack of a funk, or whatever that ambivalence I felt can be called. I thought it and then posted it as my Facebook status: "When the going get tough, the tough get cleaning. (I am Erin, daughter of Deborah, daughter of Joanne.)"

I think it's just in my blood. It's what "my people" do. We feel the weight of the world, realize we can't change it all and then focus on shining up our corner of it as best we can. I may not be able to solve the world's problems, but I can solve my own. Or at least fight the paralysis they can bring.

So I shined up the place, ate a late lunch with the boys, caught a short nap and carried on. I hosted my mom, my sis and my sis' kids for dinner and then joined the "deer camp women" and children at a good friend's house to relax. It took a couple games of Catchphrase, some yummy snacks and three wine glasses full of cranberry ginger ale. Hours of self-reflection. By being gentle with myself and allowing time for the cloud to pass, I'm sitting here in a much different place.

I'm fine. This deer camp will go down in the record books, the girls and I will come up with an epic "dear" camp of our own. Moods will come and go. Packages will be lost and found. The world will go on, and so will I.

I'm happy to be back in the land of the living, to feel my blessings and to yearn, in earnest, for my warm bed. I'm thankful for my challenges, my ups and downs, my wisdom in being able to help myself to stay grounded but to not go under.

The mind is a powerful thing. And, thank goodness, so is a Kenmore sweeper...

A Self-Portrait

Well. It's been a long day. A long three days. I'd like to write, but I'm just not so sure I need to demand anything else out of this tired head.

Instead, I'm going to recycle something I wrote about 18 months ago (so I've had another child, etc.) Some of you have read this already. To me, it still feels like it really describes me, which means it must have all been true in the first place.

In a phrase, These Are My Reasons.

1. I grew up on a truck farm (peppers and tomatoes). It was a hard job but it gave me tremendous respect for my family and a kick-ass work ethic. I made minimum wage "plus a dime" ($4.35). All subsequent jobs have been incredibly easy and lucrative.

2. I was very close to my paternal grandfather, Bernard Strahler, who owned the big farm mentioned above. I've called him "the man of my life" and "the last American cowboy." I was holding his hand when he died in the spring of 1998, and I still miss him.

3. I've been through a lot in my life. There are things I wish wouldn't have happened, but they have played an integral role in who I am today. I am a very calm and centered person, and there isn't anything I can't handle now. After you've seen hell, life can be easy. You just have to decide to step away from hell.

4. I started writing in a "serious" journal the day after my 12th birthday. I'm now on journal #65. This time-consuming and simple hobby has taught me how to be my own best friend, and how to recognize and accept life lessons and the ebb-and-flow of life. I'm proud of my writing, and it's very cool to celebrate my journal anniversary the day after my birthday each year.

5. My earliest memory of my husband is watching him play basketball his senior year for the rival high school. I was only 12 years old and sitting with my friends in the "junior high section!"

6. My husband has taught me how to slow down a bit in life, that I don't have to run around the house like a chicken with my head cut off all the time. I firmly believe that we get better and better every day. I love you, baby!

7. I have two children --Lilith Jane and Maxwell David -- and am currently searching for names for Baby #3, due in June.

8. I always knew I wanted to be and would be a mother. I love motherhood and wouldn't trade it for the world.

9. I come from a family of strong women. We've been nicknamed "The Maggots" for our swarm of activity and noise, but a couple of us decided a couple of years ago (over wine) to change it to "The Magnets," because we stick together and when one of us falls down, the others pull her back up. I love these women dearly and wish we treated ourselves to nights out together more often.

10. I truly believe that my mother is an earth angel. She is such a wonderful person. She deserves the world.

11. I'm the second of four children, and I am very close to all of my siblings. We span seven years, but it was commonplace for all four of us to show up at the same parties and places growing up.

12. Family is the most important thing in my life. I have given up places, jobs, opportunities and trips for my family, and I don't regret a single decision. Life Lesson #1: It's not the places, it's the people.

13. I have an amazing group of friends from college -- actually from before college -- that I still rely on today. There are four women and four men in our group, and we've always called ourselves "The Bitches." It's been nearly 15 years, and I am convinced our friendships will go to the grave.

14. I used to get together much better with men than with women, at least in groups. I think that's leveling out a bit, as I now have more girl friends than boy friends. In high school, I consistently raised hell with the same four guys. Because of them, I bought and still own my own slingshot.

15. I firmly believe in God. I thank Him daily for good health, wonderful family, my home, my children and for giving me a sister, and I pray that He "helps us all to love one another better."

16. I work part-time in the Scripps College of Communication. I love my job. It's very busy and fulfilling most of the time. I love that working three days a week keeps me in the loop but also allows me to be the primary caregiver to my children.

17. I love coffee, pasta, cheese, mushrooms, tomato products, A&W root beer (especially with beef jerky) and cheap wine.

18. My favorite place in the world is Lake Tweet, a part of the old family farm now owned by my uncle who's a mere six years older than me. I've spent countless weekends there. Now that I live in "town" and have children, it's more important to me than ever. We spend nearly every weekend there from about April to October. We have a 30-foot camper that is truly our second home. If you're around, come out and join us for a campfire!

19. One weekend we aren't at Lake Tweet is the third weekend in July, when most of my camping family and friends are at Jamboree in the Hills. JITH is a blast! I've been going to Jamboree since 2001, but missed 2006 and will likely miss 2009 due to having a newborn about a month old. Ah, but I'll be back, old friend, I'll be back.

20. I've always loved my name, my birthday and, for the most part, my body. I feel like all of these things are uniquely me, and all have served me so well for more than 30 years.

21. I'm a huge country music fan, but I also LOVE the Indigo Girls. I've seen them in concert six times, and I'm not much of a concertgoer.

22. I would say my biggest fault is not being patient with people. I have a low tolerance for laziness, selfishness, stupidity and shallowness. Sorry.

23. All four of my grandparents died fairly young (all between the ages of 55 and 72) of various forms of cancer. While I try not to dwell on it, I am keenly aware of my genetics, and I live my life to the fullest.

24. EXCEPT I haven't yet written a book. I truly hope I get my act together on this one.

25. While I've been typing this, my unborn baby has been doing acrobatics in my womb. My husband just got to feel it for the first time. Life is good, and I am BLESSED!

The World Belongs to Mothers

The baby-with-the-fussy-cries,-the-possible-ear-infection-or-maybe-it's-just-teeth-or-maybe-it's-a-virus? on his birthday. Isn't he a doll?

It's a very rare thing, but Mommy is going off the clock for a bit this weekend. I'm headed to a hotel with a good girlfriend for a scrapbooking, eating, shopping extravaganza! Yeah me! She's an amazing friend and mother of two, and we both need a break.

I often say it, and I really believe it: The world belongs to mothers. Good mothers are a loving, influential, resilient tribe. We're up six times a night, fine after that first cup of coffee and off to conquer the world. We're often the last one to bed and the first one up. We're the keeper of the Social Security numbers, the correct medicinal doses, the shoes sizes and the ever-growing files of our children's likes and dislikes. We're the cooks, the maids, the nurses, the chauffeurs, the seasonal clothes switchers: the choreographers of our childrens' lives.

But the heart swells never stop. Just now, at 7:32 a.m., after being awake since about 5:45 a.m. after a fitful night with the baby, I see my Maxwell headed down those oak stairs. And my heart takes flight. That kid is so cute!!!! And he's mine. And now, "Mommy, I'm hungry.... Mommy, I'm hungry..."

My heart sometimes feels two sizes too big.

Now, dear readers, sometimes under this mountain of responsibility that we call motherhood festers resentment. But it's a fixable thing. It's necessary for me to take my moments, to write in my journal, to read a magazine or paint my toenails. It's necessary for me to say, "So long, baby-with-the-fussy-cries,-the-possible-ear-infection-or-maybe-it's-just-teeth-or-maybe-it's-a-virus?, I've got to go for 36 hours and find my self."

Everyone will be fine, and I'll be back.

Oh, I'll be back.