Anticipate Fun

Stacks of books ready to travel with us!

I am packing for vacation today!  Hooray!

Although what I'm actually doing is writing a blog post about packing, when I should be just madly packing, hah!  But I have stacks ready to put in bags, so that's a start, right?

I am a terrible over-preparer and usually pack way too much for one week.  For example, for this one week beach trip, I have packed 7 books for myself, 4 books for my daughter, and an audio book to listen to in the car on the way.  Plus several writing and art projects, and some summer academic prep for my daughter.  That's totally do-able in one week, right? 

I think part of the reason I over-prepare for a trip is that I love anticipating fun.  I love looking forward to the lazy moments, and I relish in the fact that I will get to hang out with my family by the ocean, and stay in my PJs as long as I want, and do nothing but read for hours on end, and see beautiful sights for a whole week. Sometimes I get more happiness from looking forward to a trip than I get while actually on the trip!  Which seems silly, but as a creature of habit and a homebody, it can be stressful to travel, even to a well-loved place.  So, sometimes the anticipation of a fun time can bring just as much joy as the actual event!


What about you, do you find that looking forward to good times can sometimes bring as much happiness as those times in and of themselves?  

Read Thematic Books After the Fact

Beautiful page from Olivia Forms a Band

Do you ever notice that we, as parents and teachers and decorators, tend to love holiday themes and decor before the fact, but often dismiss the theme immediately after the event?  We decorate for Christmas starting in October, but it's a faux pas to keep your decorations up past New Year's.  We wear red, white, and blue the whole week before July 4th, but put away the patriotic clothes on the 5th.  I used to do the same thing with my speech lessons.  I would read trick or treating books leading up to Halloween, but never after.  I would make heart crafts before Valentine's Day, but never after.

But I've noticed in this, my 16th year as a speech language pathologist, that children will often talk more about an event or experience after that experience.  Just by accident, I stumbled upon this bit of knowledge this year, when I left some egg and nest books out after Easter and had some children request the books saying things like, "Oh, those are like the eggs I hunted!" or, "Hey I did that-- let's read that one again!"

So let's slow down in putting our thematic unit activities away so quickly after an event or holiday.  I myself plan to read these two fireworks books -- Olivia Forms a Band, and The Very Lonely Firefly-- for the next few days in my speech therapy sessions, in hopes that it will help my patients be able to recall more details, vocabulary, and concepts about their own experiences with fireworks this week.


What were your favorite family traditions for July 4th?  What traditions do you hope to pass on one day?

Neat page from the Very Lonely Firefly

Enjoy a Day of Rest

Flanna's friend slept over last night and joined us for crepes!

Hi, friends!  It's been a while since I've blogged, but today, we have a day off mid-week and nothing, I repeat, no.thing. on our schedule!  So, I had time to do all the little things I love to do:  cook, eat at a table with my family, tell stories, laugh, go for a walk, take a long bath, read, and now, even blog!  Hooray for a little down time! 

It's been a nice lazy day so far.  My hubby and daughter played Minecraft a bit, my hubby serenaded us with his guitar from his office/music room, and we ate crepes for breakfast (my favorite recipe from the Moosewood cookbook) and my favorite fancy cheese and crackers for lunch.  Yum. 

Homemade crepes with blueberries and homemade whipped cream.  Yum. 

Tonight, we're going to see some fireworks, which will be fun.  And until then, I have a wide open bit of time to rest and relax.  The terrible thing is, though, that any time I have a bit of time off from work, I see it as a failure if I don't get a few projects done at home during that time.  It's like I know that my time at home is so precious that I don't want to waste it, but then that precious day off becomes just another day of "work."  So, today, I'm trying to fight the urge to open my planner and check off one of my to-do items.  (I need to set up my soaker hoses outside.  I need to sort the piles of papers collecting on my kitchen counter.  I need to find school shoes for my daughter.  I need to do laundry, of course.)

I know that checking those things off would be helpful, but I also know that I have been feeling exhausted, not just physically, but mentally exhausted, with work and all of the zillions of things pulling me in this or that direction. So today, I am going to keep that planner in my bag, and keep that to-do list waiting for a bit, because sometimes, I need to actually rest on a day off! 

Do you have a strange urge to fill your "down-time" with tasks, too? To accomplish things every single day, even on your days off?  Often, that drive can be helpful, but some days I really do need to just rest and re-set.  

What I'm Reading

I started two book clubs this school year so far.  One is a tween book club for my daughter, and one is a ladies' book club for me.  I'm really enjoying both of the groups so far!  My daughter's book club keeps the girls reading and discussing interesting topics, and they even requested that they do a service project (making bags of needed items for the homeless), which I think is just so sweet.

Right now, they are reading "A Wrinkle in Time," and we're all going to see the movie this weekend.  Such fun!

And for my ladies' book club, I'm currently reading, "The Light We Lost" by Jill Santopolo, which is great so far!  (It's from Reese Witherspoon's book club list.)

Reading books brings me such happiness, (and builds wonderful language and narrative skills for the girls--which my SLP self loves!).  And gathering people together also brings me joy.  So these book clubs have been a fun way to make ourselves read more and also helped me "build our village" in a new-ish town (we've been here almost a year and a half).  The clubs also give us little fun outings and meet-ups to anticipate.  For me, sometimes the anticipation of fun can be just as happiness-inducing as the actual events, so it's nice to have several things on the calendar to look forward to! 



What about you?  What are you reading right now?  And how have you built your "village" of friends and neighbors?  I'd really love to hear! 

Maybe It's a Gift?

Cutest TimeHop photo, that I never would've
discovered if it weren't for waking up early.  

I had the flu last week.  It was awful.

I'm so glad to be feeling better now, finally!

The worst part of feeling icky last week was the fact that I had trouble resting and sleeping, because of a steroid shot and the Tamiflu I took.  Apparently, insomnia is a possible side effect for both.  So, I tried to rest, but wasn't really able to, which I think slowed down my recovery.

I would find myself waking up much earlier than normal, unable to fall back asleep.   Which drove me crazy. I would lie there in the early early mornings in the dark, and try to close my eyes and get back to sleep, and be so frustrated!

But then, this weekend, I thought, "Maybe this is a gift?" This peaceful time to be awake, to be still and calm, while everyone else is asleep, when the sun isn't out yet, and the world is quiet.  Maybe it's a gift?

When I thought of it that way, it did seem special, much less frustrating, and like a magical, quiet moment for me to reflect on the day to come.  I started to use that time to look at my TimeHop, or "On this Day" memories in Facebook, and to try to take a bigger view of my life as I started my day.

Nothing truly changed, but when I reframed that insomia in my mind, it made me less anxious about it, less worried that it would happen again, and less frustrated that I was awake before I really needed to be.  And feeling less stressed was a gift.



What can you reframe this week?  What is frustrating you a bit, that just might be a gift in disguise? 

Notice gifts and Name them

It has rained quite a bit here for the past week.  I get a little gloomy without sunlight, so all the rain had me a little down.  But then I walked by my hostas and realized that the rain has made them look so beautiful and lush.  The rain is a gift, for these plants.

I cleaned out my daughter's closet over the weekend.  Oh, dear.  So many clothes that don't fit anymore.  So many shoes that she has outgrown.  So many toys that she is getting too big for.  My hallway is now lined with bags of things to donate:  some to hand down to cousins, some for Goodwill, others to take to my work.  When will I have time to deal with those tasks?  I just barely had time to clean out a closet, hah! It can be overwhelming, all the tasks to be done!  But then this evening, as I mulled over my weekly schedule and tried to pencil in Goodwill drop-offs, I realized that I should be thankful that we live in such an abundantly luxurious time, when shoes and jeans and books and toys are actually reasonably affordable.  And I should be grateful that my sweet girl worked hard during a weekend to sort and organize, and was even agreeable about donating her hand-me-downs (which never usually happens! She normally wants to save every shiny gum wrapper, hah!)  Abundance, and outer order, are gifts.

Each morning when I wake up, I try to thank God for several specific things.  I am thankful for my family, for my home, for my dog, for my strong body.  For rain.  For organized closets.  And even if it's rainy out and I have to step over 3 Goodwill bags on my way to the coffee maker, I really do find that when I notice gifts and name them, I am happier with my lot in life.


What gifts have you noticed this week?  

Zoom In

Today on my lunch break,  I noticed I was feeling pretty stressed about all of the items still un-done on my to-do list.  I knew I had a busy afternoon full of patients to see after lunch (which translates into zero time to get those tasks checked off my list!), and I was nervous that I would end up taking work home for the weekend if I didn't get it all done.  When I sat down at my therapy table with my first afternoon patient, though, I took a deep breath and told myself to, "zoom in."

It took a few minutes.  I was face to face with my patient, so I tried to notice what he was noticing.  I tried to see what it was that made him light up.  I noticed he'd had a hair cut since last week, and I could see his eyes better today.  I noticed that he smiled when he tapped a shape-sorter block against the table.  When I copied him and made the same tapping sound, he laughed.  I noticed that he used his voice more when there was noise in the background, like a ball popper popping or a musical toy playing.  By the end of the session, I had forgotten my to-do list stress, and had learned a few new things about my sweet patient that made our session incredibly productive.   Just by zooming in.

It's the same at home.  When I'm caught in the big picture of who needs to be where, and what needs to be done when, and how best to juggle it all, if I can just "zoom in" on my daughter, or my husband, or my dog, or a neat flower that just bloomed, my stress will often flow away, without a lot of effort on my part.

And now, it's Friday!  And I'm home!  And my daughter's spending the night with her cousin!  And even though I brought a tiny bit of work home, I'm going to "zoom in" on my hubby and have a nice dinner with him now!


What can you "zoom in" on today, for a quick happiness boost?  

Summer Speech Sound Practice: Make it Fun!

This is the timer function on my cell phone.
It's within the clock app. 

It's summer, hooray!  Time for vacations and trips and a break from our routines!

I'm all for summer fun, but as an SLP (speech language pathologist), I don't want my speech students to lose their speech skills over the summer.  So, I often give parents summer packets and word lists to practice over their summer vacations.  But this summer, I have a new twist on speech homework:   The Super Speed Speech Sound Game.

(By the way, I got the idea for this game from the Whole Brain Teaching authors -- they have a super speed game for learning math facts, sight words, etc., and I love so many of their ideas!  Check them out!)

Generally, in the Super Speed Speech Sound Game, I give families a numbered list of 60 to 100 words that contain their child's target speech sound. These words are usually words we have practiced many times in speech, so that children can be pretty successful saying the words correctly, even without me there.  The words can just be a written list if the child is a reader, or I'll give a list of pictures/icons if they aren't yet readers.  Then, you play the game like this:

The Super Speed Speech Sound Game

1.  Set a timer for 1 minute. (most cell phones have a timer function)

2. When the timer starts, the child starts at #1 and says as many words correctly from the list, in order, as possible.  You interrupt them if the word was incorrect and have them repeat it correctly (quickly) before they can move to the next word.  Don't let them slip an incorrect word past you--we don't want a child to practice a word wrong! So don't be afraid to interrupt them and have them repeat the word until it is right.

3.  When the timer buzzes, write down the number of the last word on the list the child said correctly. This becomes their "score."

4.  Then, challenge the child to try to "beat their score" two times.  Reset the timer for one minute and have the child start over at #1 and read the same words over again quickly and correctly.  Again, if they say a word incorrectly, interrupt them and have them repeat the word correctly.  When the timer buzzes a second time, compare the # they got to with their first attempt.  The second try is almost always higher!   Celebrate that the child "beat their high score!"  Then, reset the timer again, and do one last round.  When the timer buzzes, write down the # they got to.

5.  If the child beats their high score twice,  reward them with a dance around the kitchen table or something equally silly.

That's it!  Instead of begging your kids to practice their speech words, they will be begging you to play this fun game with them!  (Well, maybe at least they won't complain about it!)

The Super Speed Speech Sound Game will build automaticity and help children maintain their speech sound skills even when they are out for the summer.  Let me know if you try it, and how your child liked it, if you did!

Accept Help Gracefully

My view from bed, as my hubby greeted the pup this morning.

Today, I was very sick.  I woke up early in the morning to prepare some food for a pot-luck I was planning to attend at work today.  But within moments, I felt shaky and nauseated and just downright horrible.  A stomach bug had struck!

Luckily, it must've been a short-lived bug, because I felt much better by this evening.

But the thing that struck me today, was that immediately when I told my husband I was feeling sick, he jumped out of bed and got to work helping me.  He brought me ginger ale.  He turned on all of our fans, so I wouldn't be hot.  He got out the cleaning supplies and lysol.  He brought me a bucket.  He brought me a bell to ring in case he was downstairs and couldn't hear me.  He checked on me every half hour or so.  I felt so cared for.

It occurred to me that I am a grown-up and could probably have gotten all of those things for myself, even in my sick state.  I felt a little guilty that my busy hubby had to take time out of his day to help me.  Several times, I apologized to him, for being so needy.

But when I thought about it, I realized that if the tables were turned, I would want him to accept my help without feeling guilty about it.  I would want him to feel cared for and safe without having to apologize for needing help or care.  I would be honored to be able to help him, because I love him and being helpful is one way I like to show love.

And so I tried to just accept help, and appreciate his kind care, rather than feeling bad about needing help.

I do think that many times in loving relationships, if people don't accept help gracefully, it can put others off. A friend or family member who thinks they are being loving by doing things for others constantly but who never accepts help from others, can seem to be keeping other people at a distance, even if they don't mean to.  I think it's something we need to consider about ourselves.  How do our rejections of help, or our expressions of guilt, or our apologies when we do receive help, affect the person trying to lovingly give us care or help?  Does it make them feel that we aren't as close as they thought, because we are uncomfortable being needy in front of them?

Let's try to be graceful in accepting help from those we love.



Have you ever noticed this? How gracefully do you accept help from your loved ones?  How can you be better about this? 

Don't Compare Your Beginning to Someone Else's Ending

miniature rose bud- last week

We moved to this historic Southern town last October.  We've been here 7 months or so, now.  I still feel new to the community, new to our neighborhood, new to our daughter's school, new to my job, new to our church, new to the friendships we are developing here.  I still use GPS to get most places.  I don't have an eye doctor yet.  The dentist that gets the best reviews can't fit us in until August.  I still can't figure out how to change my address for my bank account.  (Seriously, I've tried.)  And is the Pep Boys down the street going to put transmission fluid in my oil tank accidentally?  Should I try the local mechanic instead?  Some days I feel like I shouldn't be approaching forty still unsure of where to get my car's oil changed.

Also, my daughter's best friend that she met at school this past year just found out she is moving out of state this summer.  So now my poor sweetie has to navigate losing yet another BFF, which breaks my heart, as most of those losses of friends have been on our account, since we've moved 4 times in her 10 years, poor dear.

And it's hard not to compare myself to the families around us, who seem to be so integrated into the community, so supported in their friend groups, so active and involved in their schools, so settled and competent in their careers.

I forget that all of this takes time.  It doesn't happen overnight.  Or even in a year.

miniature rose  - today

Today, I was watering the plants in my tiny yard (a.k.a., my diminutive garden, as the fancy design book that describes our historic home calls it, haha!).  And I noticed that my miniature roses and Gerbera daisies are starting to bloom.

I had noticed the tiny rosebuds and the tiny furry sprig of the unfurling baby daisy last week.  And now, they're already completely different.  And in a few days or a week, they'll be even more amazing.

I have to remember not to compare my newly planted, timidly budding, slightly unfurling self with those hardy, veteran plants I see all around me.  I mean, really, that fuzzy curled up daisy is pretty horrific compared to the proud daisy I know it will be one day.  I can't compare the new sprig with the finished product.   It takes time to unfurl and straighten up.  Time to settle in, to fit in, to bloom where you're planted.

And so, I will continue to plug away at making our life here a good and beautiful one.  And to notice tiny signs of progress.  Because progress is beautiful, too.

Gerbera Daisy shoot- last week

Gerbera daisy unfurling slowly - today

When have you felt the urge to compare your beginning to someone else's ending?  What has helped you recenter yourself in those situations?  

New Happiness Commandments

I've been working on some new happiness commandments for 2017.  I'm not set on them yet, but I did come up with some things that make me happier when I can do them.


Experience nature.

Build your village.

Just add music.

Work hard to make a connection.

Move your body.

Do your best, and be done with it.

Indulge your senses.

Learn something new.

Reflect. But don't ruminate.


What would you add?  What "commandments" do you try to live by that make you happier? 



 

Anticipate Fun

The day of our engagement!  On top of Stone Mountain.

We're planning a day trip to Stone Mountain this weekend, and I'm really excited about it!  Stone Mountain holds a special place in my heart, because it's where Robi proposed to me.  And also, we've had a tradition of going to "Snow Mountain" for the past several years during the winter break, so keeping up with that tradition makes me happy, too!

I try to remember to "anticipate fun," because looking forward to fun times makes me happier!  And I'm not the only one who gets extra happiness from anticipating fun.  The authors of this article in the journal of Applied Research in Quality of Life found that vacationers get a strong happiness boost before vacations, and have much higher levels of happiness than non-vacationers when looking forward to a vacation.  (After vacations, not so much!)

I try to let Flannery know our future plans, so she can benefit from anticipating our fun trips, too. Today on our morning commute, I talked to her about our upcoming Snow Mountain trip, and what we might do there--getting cocoa, building a snowman, sledding/tubing, perhaps riding the train around the mountain.  It really does make me happy to think ahead about the good times we're planning as a family.   We also have a quick weekend camping trip planned in a few months, and a beach trip we're planning for the summer, and just thinking about those getaways puts me in an instant good mood.

So, what fun time are you anticipating?  If you don't have a fun trip or vacation planned yet, is there a quick weekend trip you could start planning?  Do it!  Just be sure to plan it far enough in advance to soak up the anticipatory happiness!

Be Unhurried

My new favorite nail color -- Rosy Future.  Nice and natural but shiny. 

This has been the first weekend in a while that we didn't have big plans, and it has been so rejuvenating.  I slept in a tiny bit, took a nice long bath, and made breakfast--french toast for Flanna and her friend who's staying over this weekend, and eggs and sausage for the grown ups.  And I didn't feel hurried through any of those tasks!  It was so nice.

Then, I went to yoga with a friend, and we ran into another friend at the gym and ended up taking a nice long walk after the yoga class.  Again, unhurried--so nice!

Then, I came home and had lunch, painted my nails and the girls' (love this new color!), and made myself some hot tea (Cinnamon Chai, yum).  And now I have a few hours of endless options before Flanna has her Valentine's Dance for school.  Should I read a book?  Check Facebook?  Take a nap?  (Sleeping is my hobby!  That option sounds the best!)

As much as I love doing fun things and being with friends and family, sometimes it can be exhausting to go, go, go every weekend.  Being unhurried this morning has been refreshing!  Which makes me think that perhaps I should try harder to be unhurried more often in my normal routine. I could plan in a little margin of error in our morning commute, maybe.  I could more consistently make lunches at night, when there is no time pressure, rather than in the mornings when we are on a tight schedule.  I could plan my meals for the week ahead of time and be sure I have everything I need for each one, so I don't have to stop by the grocery store for any missing ingredients on the way home from work and school.  I could give myself a wide window between activities and appointments.  That way, when my daughter remembers that her jacket is all the way upstairs at the exact moment that we should be walking out the door for something, I can respond calmly, because I have planned ahead to be unhurried.  I'm definitely less snappish when I don't have to hurry.  And being non-snappish definitely makes me happier!



Do you feel this way, too?  That you're always hurrying and need to step back from that?  How can you try to be less hurried this week?  

Getting ready for her Valentine's Dance today

Look Up

The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness, fullness thereof.  

This week, the tulip trees (Japanese magnolias?) have begun blooming all over the city.  I notice them as I am rushing to drop of my daughter at school, rushing to work, rushing home, rushing to the grocery store, and generally, well, rushing around.

I notice them, and they call to me.
To slow down.  To look up.  To take time, just a moment, to appreciate them while they are here.  Because they won't last forever.  Some gifts are brief.

And so yesterday, I paused.  I stood under a tree in a parking lot and looked up.

And peace came. I didn't even know I called it.  But it came.


What gifts call you to pause, and notice them? 

Call Peace

Flanna in front of a desolate city/tree-scape, several years ago at the High Museum

This week, the first week of Donald Trump's presidency, has been a difficult week for me to practice my 3rd New Year's Resolution --calling peace.  Each time I have checked the news, my heart has frozen as if it is a deer in headlights, staring at an oncoming logging truck barreling straight at me and my tiny fawns further behind me.

I try not to get too involved in politics, but I am fearful for our country this week.  Fearful for the long-term ramifications of allowing one powerful yet unkind human to "lead" a nation that is in desperate need of peace and unity but appears to be tumbling backwards in time and away from love.

I don't want to back down and be silent, allowing discriminatory actions to pass by without notice, but I also know that if I dwell too much on the larger picture of things that I cannot control, I will lose the ability to call peace.  I will forget to see the beauty in front of me.  I can easily become frustrated with my small sphere of influence and so much that needs to be done.  So it's a delicate balance, this caring for my family and myself, but also caring for my country and our world and all those hurting, oppressed, scared, suffering, and marginalized by these political changes.

This week, I will pay attention, and do the small things I can do, like contact my representatives and be sure my voice is heard, and pray for those who are hurt by the actions of our current president, and pray for that president, that he may learn from his actions quickly enough not to do irreparable damage to our beloved country.  And when I feel too pulled into the headlights of that oncoming truck, I will step away, and take deep breaths, and lower my tense shoulders, and lift my eyes up to the trees, and study the long eyelashes of my darling daughter, and pet my cuddly dog, and kiss my husband, and work hard to connect with my sweet clients.  And there's a chance peace will come.


What about you, how are you dealing with the political changes going on right now? 

Tell Your Tough Family Stories

Flanna, age 2

I was talking to my daughter recently about her earliest memory.  She says she can remember me singing while I stood holding her in the shower in our green tiled bathroom with the bamboo shower curtain in our old home on Pulaski Street in Athens, GA.  She would've been about 2 at that time.  I do remember that moment, because it was unusual for me to hold her in the shower.  I usually gave her a bath, and even if I had given her a shower, I would usually just hold her hand and let her stand in the shower because I was too nervous I would drop her if I was holding her.  But on that morning, she had been sick, and I wanted to hold her up high so she could breathe in more steam from the shower.   I remember being nervous and holding her slippery soapy body so tightly, so she couldn't wiggle out of my arms.  But she just remembers a sweet warm care-taking experience, thank goodness, not my fear of her slipping!

Anyway, she asked why she doesn't remember anything from before this memory.  There were probably zillions of things that happened before that day that were just as interesting, if not more interesting than that first memory.  And I told her that one of my professors had taught me that we often do have sensory memories from before our "first memory," but that until we can understand and tell stories, we aren't able to encode those memories so that we can later recall them.  It was probably around 2 or 2 1/2 when she was first able to understand and tell simple stories, and that's probably why she remembers and can recall this moment.  

I think a lot about how stories are so important to us as humans.  Stories help us make sense of who we are, of who our family is and was, of how we got to this place and where we might go.  Stories are more than just looking back and reminiscing, they are actually important in how we see ourselves as connected to the world and what we think of ourselves individually.  Carol Westby, a brilliant SLP and researcher,  remarked in a recent journal article about the importance of teaching children to create stories about their own lives, "A coherent life story can lead to making informed choices, learning to effectively solve problems, and taking control of and responsibility for one’s life." Also, as I've discussed before in this blog, researchers at Emory University's Family Narratives lab say, "... adolescents who are embedded in a storied family history show higher levels of emotional well-being, perhaps because these stories provide larger narrative frameworks for understanding self and the world, and because these stories help provide a sense of continuity across generations in ways that promote a secure identity (see Fivush, Bohanek, & Duke, 2008, for a full theoretical discussion)."  When we can tell a story about how we overcame an obstacle, or how our family members faced strife but persevered, we help our children become more reflective individuals who can calmly face problems, flip back through their library of their own or others' experiences, and come up with solutions that might work in this case.

So, don't sugar coat your family history.  Tell your children the good family memories, but also the hard ones.  For Flanna, some of those include:  How her great great grandma died young, but the older children took care of the younger children as well as they could for as long as they could.  How the younger ones had to be sent to an orphanage, but they kept in touch and always sent letters back and forth.  How her grandparents worked hard physical jobs that were tough on their bodies in order to earn enough money to send their children to college, and their children were the first to graduate college on either side of the family.  How her great grandpa had a car wreck that caused a spinal cord injury but worked hard to relearn things with therapy and really enjoyed the therapy dogs that would visit the rehab center. How her great aunt wanted to have children for so many years and didn't give up and finally became a mom for the first time in her 40s.  How her grandmother had to move from one state to another the summer before her senior year of high school, and how that felt like the end of the world, but actually allowed her to meet her future husband.  How her great grandpa realized as an older man that he was actually homosexual, and how hard that was for the family, but also how it was probably such a relief for him not to feel like he was hiding his true self anymore.  How her great grandmother grew up in poverty but became a Women's Army Corps member and learned skills and got a great job as a switchboard operator and was able to provide for herself even after her divorce.

Giving our children the good stories along with the bad can steel them for the tough times in their own lives.  From our family stories, Flannery could learn:  that families take care of one another, that families work hard to stay connected, that our family values education, that it runs in her family to love animals, that children are a gift not a burden, that sometimes scary changes work out well in the end, that you need to listen to your heart and be true to yourself about who you are from the beginning, that it's smart to work hard and be independent and always be able to provide for yourself. It's hard and scary to talk about difficult things with our children, and we definitely need to wait until they are old enough to understand the concepts, but it's important to be bold enough to tell our tough family stories as well as the good memories.


What family stories do you think have shaped who you are as a person? What stories do you want to be sure to pass down to your children or your children's children?

References:

Fivush, R., Bohanek, J. G., & Zaman, W. (2010). Personal and intergenerational narrativesin relation to adolescents’ well-being. In T. Habermas (Ed.), The development of autobiographicalreasoning in adolescence and beyond. New Directions for Child and AdolescentDevelopment, 131, 45–57.

Westby, C. & Culatta, B. (2016, Oct.). Telling tales:  Personal event narratives and life stories. Language Speech and Hearing Services in Schools, Vol. 47, pp. 260-282.

New Year, New Goals

It's a new year!  A new year, in a new state, in a new home, with a new job, and new routines, and new everything! Which, if you know the self help literature, means I have a clean slate--a brand new start! An easy new blank page for creating the life I want!

You know, right after I unpack, and hang photos, and pull weeds, and find a new doctor and new dentist and new salon and new eye doctor and...oh, eek, suddenly it's almost February and I still haven't decided on my New Year's Resolutions!  (Which I love to do, by the way!  I love goals and objectives so much that I write them both for work and fun!  Are you with me, my fellow allied health and special education peeps?!)

Anywho.  I always find that if I write my resolutions down where I will see them every day, I am much more likely to stick to them.  So, here they are for this year, below.  I've also written them on my Chick Fil A calendar in my kitchen.  And I'll rewrite them each time we switch to a new month, until they are etched into my very core.  ;)

1.  Just add music.
2.  Write.
3.  Call peace.

The first two resolutions are easy!  We have moved to Macon, GA, the Song and Soul of the South, so there is music everywhere in my new home and new city.  And as for writing--I have a blog that I am hoping to jump back into, and a zillion journals on my nightstand, and a writing group that will hold me accountable if I just ask.  But the last resolution is the kicker.

I was going to make my third resolution to practice pilates, but when I searched deeper, I realized that it's not just that I want to do Pilates--I want to feel the calm and peace and connectedness to my body and the earth that I feel when doing Pilates.  And really, I don't have to be doing Pilates to feel that.  I can call forth that peaceful grounded feeling anytime I want, just by breathing, and correcting my posture, and noticing the gifts around me.  So #3 will be the toughie but goodie that I think I can do a zillion times a day as I walk through the daily hurdles of this world.  How we need peace right now!

 I will start tomorrow, by loving on my precious daughter and husband and patients and families and calling peace at every greeting and parting throughout my day.   It's not much, but peace grows from a small seed.


What about you?  What are your goals for this new year?  Write them down in a comment!  You'll be more likely to keep them if you do!  

Boring Things My Therapist has Said to Me

The notes feature on the iPhone is da bomb, BTW.

I try to keep a list on my phone of things my therapist says to me that are so boring that I can't believe she actually said it and got paid for saying it.  It's getting pretty long.

Here's what I have so far:

1.  Go outside for a few minutes each day.
2.  Remember what worked before.  Do that again.
3.  Lower your expectations for yourself.
4.  Leave some things un-done now and then.
5.  Take a walk whenever you can.
6.  Create something to look forward to.
7.  When you're anxious something bad will happen, tell yourself, "That's highly unlikely."
8.  Get some exercise.
9.  Put alone time on your calendar.
10.  Find a tiny step to take, and take it.
11. There are tiny pieces of your day that you have some control over.  Make them work for you.

On their own, these boring things don't seem amazing or helpful.  But I have to tell you, put to action, they are magic.

I am a big proponent of therapists.  Let's all use them preventatively, people!  I, for one, think my boring therapist is simply brilliant.




What about you?  What boring advice has been helpful to you in your life? 

Be the Memory Keeper (and the Memory Sharer)

From one of my old photo albums.  Robi playing with his band back in the day. 

I have dubbed myself my family's "memory keeper."  I have always loved to take photographs and to print and share them and save them for posterity.  And now that my daughter is old enough to care about our lives before her, I really find it fun to share our old photo albums with her.  My daughter has heard our stories enough now that, when I mentioned last week to one of her friends who is taking guitar lessons that we are a musical family, she immediately jumped to telling the story of how her dad used to play bass in a band and that's probably why she is good at music, too.  (I always cough and try to interject that I sing and play instruments, too, ahem, but, alas, by then she and her friend had turned their attention to something else and I was old news.)

Anywho.

The point of this longwinded, um, story, is to say that I recently read a really neat article about how children who know their family's stories actually have better mental health and well-being than children who don't.  Especially if children know stories about our strife, and how we overcame it. According to researchers at the Family Narratives Lab at Emory University,

"Our results suggest that adolescents who are embedded in a storied family history show higher levels of emotional well-being, perhaps because these stories provide larger narrative frameworks for understanding self and the world, and because these stories help provide a sense of continuity across generations in ways that promote a secure identity (see Fivush, Bohanek, & Duke, 2008, for a full theoretical discussion)."

Isn't that interesting?  I read several articles on this topic, and there is so much amazing information here, but let me stick to the key point:  The stories we tell our children actually matter.  Sharing of ourselves, even about the difficult things--no, especially about the difficult things--makes a difference for our children.  When our children are well-versed in the stories of our lives, it helps them make sense of how they might fit into the world and how they might overcome strife when it happens to them.

So, aunts, uncles, moms, dads, grandparents, cousins:  I say to you, tell your story!  Then tell it again.  Bore the young children with details of how you felt, and how it was tough, and then how you persevered anyway.  Keep talking until they are rolling their eyes and can quote you verbatim.  Then, and only then, will you know you're a true memory keeper.




What stories that your parents or grandparents told are meaningful to you?  I love the story of how my maternal grandmother became a Women's Army Corps member during WWII, and of how my paternal grandmother didn't meet her husband until late in life and thought she'd be an old maid (and she went on to have 4 children!).  

Cultivate Communion with the Saints

Yesterday, I stumbled upon a gem.

Flannery & I read this book last week.  It was great! 

On Facebook, a friend of mine had posted a video of Father Thomas Hopko's 55 maxims for Christian living.  I googled the podcast transcript and was just completely overwhelmed by the wisdom in this little list that an Orthodox priest (who died 1 year ago yesterday, May his memory be eternal.) had written.

Here is just a tiny snippet of his list of maxims:

4.  Say the Lord's Prayer several times a day.
5.  Have a short prayer that you constantly repeat when your mind is not occupied.
7.  Eat good foods in moderation.
8.  Practice silence, inner and outer. Just sit for a few minutes everyday in total silence.
9.  Do acts of mercy in secret.
16.  Read good books, a little at a time.
17.  Cultivate communion with the saints.
18.  Be an ordinary person.  Try to be like others as much as you can.
19.  Be polite with everyone--first of all, the members of your own family.
20.  Maintain cleanliness and order in your home.

There is so much here!

But what struck me most was #17 - to cultivate communion with the saints.  I've talked about this before on this blog, about how helpful it is for me to "consider the saints" and learn about them, so that I can be encouraged in this life on earth, which can really be tough.  The saints that went before us faced the same problems we do, and worse.  Yet they managed to rise above them.  They weren't  superhuman.  They were just people like us.  

For example, Flannery and I read last week about Saint Patrick.  I didn't know that he was captured from Britain as a child and taken to Ireland as a slave.  After six years as a slave shepherd, he escaped and tried to get away on a ship.  The ship was full of hunting hounds, and the story goes that when Patrick tried to board the ship, the captain didn't want him there because he suspected he was an escaped slave.  But the hounds howled and barked each time Patrick stepped away from them and quieted when Patrick was near, so eventually the captain agreed to take him home.  And even though he made it home to his family, Patrick felt called to leave them to share the word of God with the people of Ireland (who had earlier enslaved him!).  He went back and started a church in a barn in Ireland.  And now he is Ireland's patron saint.  I mean, I may have a stressful life sometimes, but I've never had to go try to teach my former captors about love and forgiveness.

So today, as I look ahead at a week crammed with too many evaluation reports to write and too many meetings to hold and too many meals to plan and too many birthday presents to buy and too many appointments to keep, it helps to think that others have faced all this and more.  That others have fought the good fight and won, and are now cheering me on from above.  It might sound cheesy, but in the Orthodox faith, we do believe that the Saints are able to intercede for us and to help us in our worldly struggles, even now.  Sometimes when I'm having a tough day, I like to pray for Saint John the Wonderworker to pray for me, and it gives me strength.  I also often pray that my grandparents (and my husband's grandfathers) and my uncle pray for me & my family.  Many times, I have felt so comforted by the thought that they are interceding on our part.

Cultivate communion with the saints.  It's more than just "considering" the saints, I think.  And this week, I'm going to try to do just that.



What about you?  Do you feel connected to those who have gone before you on this journey?  How do you cultivate that communion?  

Mary Oliver, On Not Being a Helicopter Parent

Flanna riding her big bike, with gears and a basket and a cute bell.

"To live in this world,
you must be able to do
three things: 
to love what is mortal;
to hold it against your bones
knowing your own life
depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."
   --Mary Oliver, from "In Blackwater Woods"

Do What You Love

art by my Great Aunt Elsie

Lately I've been giving myself permission to read and write more.  To let the laundry pile up and the dishes wait to be unloaded.  Because when I am stressed out and busy and don't let myself do what I love, I become a strange tense version of myself that I don't want to be.

Anywho.  One of the benefits of letting myself write more is having something to share on my little blog!   Below, I'm posting a poem I wrote about my Great-aunt Elsie. Enjoy!  (And by the way, what will you do this week that you just love?)


Card Castle

I never visited her,

my great aunt Elsie,

Never saw the life she built

out of the bad hand she was dealt.

Born to an overwhelmed father and an ailing mother,

with so many mouths to feed

in the Great Depression.

Not a single ace or king, nothing up her sleeve.

Her mother passed (Passed what? The final test?)

and her older sister (my grandmother) tried to care for them—

Elsie and her tiny twin brothers--,

but

her young newlywed husband (my grandfather) just couldn’t handle it. 

and so, it was off to the orphanage.

My grandmother stood tall, in heels and her best skirt,

uncertain,

watching small, wiry Elsie twist her dark auburn hair.

Finally, she signed the papers at the counter, so many words stuck in her throat,

and the clerk hurrying her with his eyes.

I don’t know much about the orphanage, 

except that that’s where my grandmother said

Elsie must’ve learned to be a lesbian.

Long years of living with so many other girls 

and no boys, she explained.

But I have the wisdom of time, 

and so many homosexual branches off my family tree.

Genetics are genetics.

My sister visited their apartment once, in Seattle,

Great Aunt Elsie and her artist partner.

They painted flowers and trees and laughed from a purple velvet couch.

They walked down to the farmer’s market every Saturday.

I like to picture them side by side,

Gray hair swaying,

pushing bicycles with baskets heavy laden 

through the shining streets.

I like to study her art hanging on the wall 

in my hallway in California.

The beauty she created smiles out at me.

I like to think of her, her head tilted,

considering the lines, the light, 

contemplating,

a cat sunning in her window.

I like to think of how she built a quiet castle

out of a bad hand of cards.  

Just Add Music

I've been listening to the new Weepies album, Sirens, lately.  It is so lovely, and has brought me so many moments of joy as I drive here or there, or cook dinner, or get ready for work in the mornings.

Here is a beautiful lyric I love, from a song called, "Wild Boy:"

Every ship at sea deserves a harbor,
and don't I know it
No little tree alone can make an arbor,
and don't I know it. 

I think I will make this our family motto--"Every ship at sea deserves a harbor."  I feel this way about my family --that they are my safe harbor.  Deb Talan of the Weepies fought a battle with breast cancer this past year, and I wonder if the same is true for her--that her family was her harbor amidst that storm.

Ah, how a song can speak to our hearts.  Music is truly a gift. And I am thankful.


What song is making you happy lately?  

Speak the Truth in Love

A friend of mine gave me this beautiful wisdom once--told me that her motto in marriage, and in life, is to, "Speak the truth in love."  And I try to do that in my marriage, and in my life, too--to say the hard things, and to also listen to the hard things about myself.  Because that is the only way to grow into better versions of ourselves.

Anywho.  Here is a little poem I wrote, along those lines.  

It's called, "On Marriage."

It's worth the toil, this quiet peace I feel with you.  
The days of struggle, of defining how this will work,
of establishing a new routine each era,
of date night fuss and working hard to make a connection--
it all seems so far away and needless 
when this beauty cycles back around.
My first thought each morning is ThankYouGod, 
for my wonderful husband and family,
and it's so easy.
But there were times of toil--hard times, of disconnection and jostling for power, 
and a desire to be right. 
That all seems so silly when I look back on it. 
Still, marriage is meant to keep us on our toes--
to not let us grow weary of being better each day.
Marriage is salvific--and you are the one helping me face demons, 
and I hope I help you.
Because no one else on this earth can see me so clearly,
can list my quirks and failings so comprehensively,
as the one I choose to see me through it all.
And no one else has given me more grace, either,
has shown me how Christ's love might really be--
all-knowing, and still all-loving--
except you.

Do What Spring Does

in my back yard

Spring is coming, coming quickly.  Here in California, it's upon us already.  On my morning walk, I couldn't get over all of the new blooms that have popped up overnight!  It's lovely to see the renewal.

And it got me thinking this morning as I was walking with my dog, that I, too, need renewal.  I need to allow myself to do what spring does.  I need to push away the old brown, decaying leaves that have covered up the beauty that is possible in my life, and make way for new green shoots, for new colorful buds.  I need to get rid of the patterns that keep me always in a hurry, always behind a step, always stressed, always anxious, and make room in my life for wandering, and thinking, and reflecting, and connecting with the ones I love, and being the person I want to be.  Because it's so easy, automatic almost, for my priorities to get covered with decaying leaves.

along our fence

Today, with my to-do list hitting 3 pages long (for reals!), and my dog needing to go to the vet (he has a scratch on his eyelid), and my daughter's orthodontist appointment looming at the end of the day, and with dishes and laundry and e-mails piling up every moment, I am going to try to take deep breaths, and revel in the fabulous deep kiss my hubby gives me as he heads to work, and the way my daughter's hair flies behind her as she rides her scooter to school, and how my sweet dog chooses to lay on the thin kitchen rug just so he can be close to me as I work even though there are a hundred more comfy cushions and blankets for him all over the house.  And as I write IEPs and do all of the boring paperwork that comes with being an SLP, I will picture the grinning faces of my students when they learn a new word or say their /s/ sound just right. And that will be me, doing what spring does.

Because renewal doesn't mean my whole life changes, that the muddle of deadlines and chores and hard things goes away.  Renewal means that I push these things aside for tiny moments, that I focus briefly on what means the most for just long enough to let the green shoots of gratefulness break through the hard ground of my busy life.  Drawing our attention to beauty, that is what spring does.




How will you invite renewal into your life this week?  

Do What You Love

I bought myself a journal a few weeks ago that says on the cover, "Do what you love."  I use it to take notes each day at work.  And that message --"Do what you love"--has been a good reminder to me-- to appreciate the meaningful work I get to do each day, and also to stop and do something for myself now and then.

I've even written a few poems (writing gives me such a happiness boost!) in my little journal, in the wee hours of the night when I'm finishing up with work.  It's funny--this one tiny "splurge" on a $6 journal for myself has really brought me happiness--both by helping me feel grateful in the moment and by encouraging me to write more.  Here's a poem I wrote this week called, "On Family."

----

On Family

My mother saves pictures of us
off of Facebook
and onto her phone.
She likes to look at our recent faces
as she waits on a prescription.
Love across the miles is hard.

I, too, collect tiny bits of family connection.
I listen, alone on my commute,
to songs my family once sang on car trips.
I frame bits of lace
made by a great grandmother
and hang them on the wall.
I point out to my husband,
at a school play,
how my daughter's jaw, eyes,
are so like my sister,
and smile.
I stand at the kitchen counter
and rub a well-worn cookie recipe
in my mother's handwriting,
lovingly,
as if it were her own dear cheek.

We are a tribe fractured.
Hunting and gathering remnants,
glimpses,
of a life we meant to have together.


----

Do you regularly get to "Do what you love?"  And if not, how can you work toward that bit by bit? 

A Letter to My 8 Year Old Daughter

My dear girl,

Yesterday, you turned eight years old.  Eight! 

On your eighth birthday, there are so many things I want you to remember forever.  I want you to remember your daddy being the "mail slot monster" and cracking us up as we left for school the other day.  I want you to remember how our sweet and cuddly dog, Valentino, loves nothing more than snuggling under your blankets in your bed with you as we read together at night.  I want you to remember the mountain of cards that arrived in our mail today--from grandparents and aunts and cousins who all love you so much.  I want you to remember your excitement at reading Harry Potter for the first time this week. I want you to remember how kind you are to your friends, and how gentle you are with the kindergarteners in after-school with  you.  You take time to help them, hug them, play with them, and really listen to them.  We were leaving from school a few days ago, and at least 4 kinder students ran to hug you as you left.  You took time to hug each one and say something special to them.  I want you to remember how you supported a friend recently when someone called her a name at school.  And how you cheered on the Spartans football team and tried not to give up hope that they would win, even when it was looking grim.  I want you to remember the cheerful, fiery, silly, brilliant, hard-working little girl you are right now.

Because I hold all these things in my heart.  As you grow, I see you not only as you are now, but as a patchwork of all the beautiful moments when your nature has been revealed, noticing how some things remain constant as you grow.  I, as the memory keeper for our family, hold you in my heart as the amazing eight year old you are today, and also as the strong baby who cried with such gusto at birth.  And as the conservative new walker who was careful and thought out your actions before you tried them.  And as the nurturing protector of animals and children you were as a toddler carrying your "kitty" and "baby" around and rocking and cooing to them.  And as the artist intent on her work at the light box in your montessori. And as the athlete scaling the school monkey bars at age 3!  And as the talented creator of amazingly accurate and realistic 3D models in preK.  And as the careful and insightful mathematician creating and discovering patterns in your blocks in kindergarten.  And as the writer of interesting and creative tales in first grade.  And as the calm and collected performer with the sharpest memory around, standing on a chair as the angel in our church Christmas play.  And as the nurturer of the ignored, ridiculed, different, and forgotten children that you are this year as you navigate the sometimes difficult social world of school.  You are, and have always been, a treasure to me and your dad.  And when I look at you, I see you as you have been, as you are, and as you will be one day.  And I am proud to call you my daughter. 

Happy eighth birthday, my sweet!  Your daddy and I love you with all our hearts.

Love,
Mom