Confessions of a working mom

I am obviously struggling to keep up with my blog - or write at all for that matter. Although writing is refreshing and life-giving for me, I cannot figure out how to incorporate it in to my life... Ironic?

Truth is, that's just the beginning of my long list entitled "important things I am neglecting." I still cannot wrap my brain or being around working full-time and being mom, wife, woman, friend, etc. without feeling guilty and honestly, failure-ish.

And although I love my job, it's a job. A lot of my hours are spent there... my happy, energetic hours. My confession is that I am holding onto values of motherhood, wifehood, general good womanhood that don't work out with my current lifestyle, and so I am constantly questioning my value and purpose. This is not based on truth and I know it, but it's my issue right now. And, no one else is holding this arbitrary standard up against me but myself.

My job is meaningful, I definitely know that in theory - but like anything that occasionally runs toward the routine, I question the value of my time, my investment.

"Then the righteous will answer him, Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink...
The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

On Friday I saw one of my second grade students for speech therapy who has had a rough go. His mom left when he was very young and has little to no contact with him or his brother by choice. She lives in another state. I haven't seen any parental representatives for this student at any school functions. He has some behavioral issues that are starting to rear their head.

The student I usually see along with him was absent, so he and I started our session with games working on his "TH" sound and then moving to working on clear articulation of 3-4 syllable words... My lessons this week were based on the wonderful book, How to Make an Apple Pie and see the World. Earlier in the week, he told me he had never tasted apple pie; so on Friday I was prepared.

I brought three kinds of apples for tasting and a small apple pie as well. A change came over that boy when I pulled them all out and began cutting into the apples. We talked about the apples, describing them, deciding which were our favorites, his eyes lit up and smiled at me the whole time - he loved all of them, granny smith, gala, red delicious - peel and all.

Then, I cut into the little, personal-size, store bought apple pie... He had a taste. "Is it ok if I have some more of dat?"

"I'll give you another piece. Well, you know what, you've already had lunch... you can finish it."

Great big smile - he decided he liked it.

I told him it was time to head back to class, and he stood up, looked me right in the eye, and said "well, thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, Buddy."

He walked halfway across the room toward the door and stopped, turned around... "Yeah, thanks, thank you for everything."

"You're welcome."

He is well-fed and loved by his busy dad. I think it was hunger, nonetheless that I had the sacred opportunity to fill and I feel blessed.

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Odds and Ends

Now that most of us have the first week of school under our belts, I'd love to hear how it went for you - any great moments to share? or horrible moments you'd rather forget but know others will appreciate you sharing so they can commiserate? Comment here or on FB if you have a sec...

I started back two weeks ago, one full week before the students started back, and in the last two weeks...

-I took part in my first full blown Flash Mob, seriously. Yep - my first time EVER to learn dance choreography and then perform publicly.
Our fabulous principal informed us at a team building staff event the Friday before we officially started back that the entire staff of our school would be learning a dance to the song "Right Here, Right Now" to flash mob perform at Convocation on Monday morning in front of the staff of our whole district. I practiced at home about 47 times that weekend (not exactly known for my mad dancing skills) and pretty much had an amazing time with that whole thing. I'm pretty sure we were awesome.

-We went to a Ranger's Game (Greg, Abby, and I) the night of the FIRST day of school and didn't get to bed that night until midnight - a little nuts, but we were given great tickets with a season parking pass and sat 13 rows away from the batter. And we won while sitting next to obnoxious Red Sox fans which made it so very sweet.

-Greg and I went to an opening of a new show at Valley House Gallery and panicked when the only parking option was valet. We had two dollars between us (how much are you supposed to give those guys anyway? I NEVER opt for valet, partly because I don't mind walking, and partly because I NEVER have cash). The exhibit was inspiring, and we ran into another artist/sculptor, Micheal O'Keefe, who has been a big source of inspiration to Greg while we were there. Check out his work on the Valley House Gallery website; it is amazing... We had a great conversation with him, and then, it was time to go.
Greg wadded up our two bills as thickly and indiscriminately as possible and took off as fast as he could without running over one of those nice valet guys working in 100 degree heat after handing off our tip.

-I chopped my hair, which was fun and I like it, which is fortunate.

-Grace had a wonderful first week of second grade, and much to my surprise rattled off the morning routine to me on the way to her second day of school (a challenge to remember just about every day of first grade). "Wow, Grace. You really listened yesterday; I'm proud of you!"
"Mom, Mrs. Weir acted it out for us - that's why."
Of course - epiphany... Will be figuring out a way to incorporate a little more of that at home.

-And, so far we have incorporated the idea of sabbath as a family rhythm for two weeks. This is not Old Testament law-driven sabbath but sabbath as rest and replenishment. There is no way around crazy, hectic days in our stage of life, so we've decided to claim one day a week for only those things that refresh and inspire creativity and spiritual, physical, and relational replenishment. We've declared it a no tv or consumerism day and instead read, create art, write, play instruments, play games, exercise, have extended time to pray, enjoy listening to music, linger over a yummy meal planned by Greg (2 delicious meals so far), have friends over, and will some day get outside to enjoy creation...

You get the idea. I'm loving this so far, and although there are and will be challenges, with flexibility, it might work. Saturday is pretty crazy, because we try to fit all the weekend work into that day... But, sabbath makes the rest of the chaos tolerable, because you know it's coming.

I'm hoping we can keep it going...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The Dinner Question

I start back to school on Monday, a week before the girls go back. It's been a great summer. I've loved having the opportunity to check back in as a mom, wife, daughter and daughter-in-law, sister, friend, granddaughter...

I'm working through the idea of incorporating healthy rhythm in my life as I head back into the full-time work week. Greg and I have had many discussions about the book Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton after she came to speak to our church leaders. I'll try to share updates as we experiment with this idea through trial and much error, I'm sure. I have to personally unpack it a little more before I even attempt to explain some of my thoughts, but I am hoping to get there.

On to dinner...
We had a wonderful time the other evening with some new friends, Stanley and Jenny, we've been wanting to get to know a little better. They turned out to be the type of people you feel like you've known for a long time once you have a real conversation with them (slight disclaimer: Jenny is a counselor, but she was not on the clock).

As I was talking with Jenny, the topic of my personal retreat came up. I had merely introduced the subject when she asked one of those perfect questions that you don't realize you've desperately been wanting someone to ask until you hear it.

"Kelly, what did God say to you that weekend?"

Now, sometimes people ask that question when they shouldn't and it freaks me out. But Jenny isn't like that, and she knew as clearly as I did that there was an answer to that question.

My eyes got a little misty as the surprising strength of that answer formulated itself into words:

"He said, not audibly but certainly, 'I'm so glad you are finally 'going there' with Me. I've been here in the quiet space where you couldn't go, always here even though you couldn't be here yet... And I knew that, so I've waited.'
And I knew with intense certainty that He never left or blinked or abandoned, but orchestrated within a Love that I cannot comprehend."

And I don't want to stop listening, but life is loud, so I'm thinking through that one.

All By Myself... meets the end of the backstory

Yep, I went on a two night all by myself retreat to a beautiful hotel room that we cha-chinged on priceline for a P R E T T Y good deal. I know, I had never ever done that either - the two night personal retreat. I wasn't sure what I would think or what to expect.

It was wonderful.

I want to tell about it here partly because it was so wonderful and I would like to explain why you need one too, but also because in reviewing my last couple of years, this retreat hit on all of the important anything I would have to say... And I figured it might just wrap up the backstory once and for all.

This get-away was Greg's idea, and he wanted to make it happen before I head back into the full-time school year. Feeling a little unsure, I asked a few people for ideas on how to make the most of my time and then found myself furiously grabbing books, articles, my Bible, magazines, my notebook, etc. without wondering/pondering/questioning. As the time came to head out, I was ready...

I was unprepared, however, for what actually occurred on Friday night. I did not want to turn on the t.v. at all during the weekend, so I began the detox process once I reached my room. I started with my Southern Living Magazine that had JUST COME IN that afternoon about an hour before I left... awesome. I savored every page in the beautiful quiet. I felt inspiration dripping into my creative cognitive area (I don't know, it's just what I felt).

And then, it was just me in the silence looking out my beautiful window. For the first time in over two years, I felt that I was not alone while I was alone. I kept looking out my window as unexplained tears began falling more and more rapidly, coursing down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. For the first time, I talked with God about my last couple of years.

I told Him through now choking sobs how hard it was to go directly from the upheaval our family had been through to working full-time in a demanding and difficult job that required 13-14 hours a day and required me to speak in Spanish all day long. (I worked that first year as a Speech Therapy Assistant for a private Speech and Language Center that contracted out for home health services. I was only offered the job if I was willing to see all Spanish-speaking clients - which would have been great, if I was fluent in Spanish). During that time, my daughters were all going into their first full year of public school; I had previously home-schooled. It was a very difficult year for all of them, particularly Grace, who had a terrible kindergarten experience.

And I was absent... All year. Grace had an ear infection one week when I didn't know, so I just kept giving her tylenol and sudafed for symptoms and sending her to school. Finally on Friday I took her into the doctor to hear how extreme both ear infections were, and I almost broke down in the office. My job gave no days off and no vacation; I drove to areas 1 to 2 hours away from my house and children depending upon the time of day... I felt trapped and horrible. It paid the bills, but I was lonely driving around by myself all day; I became a spiritual and emotional zombie or wreck, depending on the day.

I told Him how that hurt my feelings.

I did not understand why God would have brought me to that place. Why would He have completely taken away my opportunity to do those things that I most value and put me in a place where due to the language barrier, I felt I had very little competence? Was He getting ready to just take me out of commission?

During that year, I was not in my right mind. I was situationally depressed, and I don't think Greg knew what to do with me. I spent many an evening sobbing in my walk-in closet.

I remember walking with Greg one evening when he said, "Kelly, what if God wants you to begin to understand the reality of His love for you? You have always come to situations with your hands full, ready to give and serve; but what if you need to see your value to Him, His overwhelming love for you with your hands empty, completely empty? What if you need to be satisfied with His love for you, even like that?"

I wanted to hit him very hard.

That option, if it was an option did not feel like love, but I never really told God that. Life was too raw for me to "go there" as I would say. I could not handle the surface of life, much less anything deeper...

In the midst of feeling like I was drowning and needing to be rescued, I read a book that was quite timely for me. It was the only book I read that year, and it's little. It's called The Prodigal God by Tim Keller. That book did not make me feel like I wanted to throw it against the wall like some false starts did that year. I felt starved for it. My biggest take-away that I still remember was that God, in His authority had not blinked and lost me. He had placed me exactly where I was for purposes beyond my understanding and he was asking me to trust Him.

I spent Saturday morning walking around the sculpture garden at Valley House Gallery -one of my favorite places.

After that epiphany, I started my day simply with, "God, You put me here; I need You to pull me through." I occasionally revisited my hubby's statements. After multiple frantic, unsuccessful attempts to find a new job that allowed for more flexibility and family time, it was just as I settled into this realm of trust that I found myself hired as a speech therapy assistant in a wonderful school district that was a 1/2 mile from my house in a whirlwind exchange started by a friend in our Lifegroup and clinched after my interview on the day Greg totalled the car I used for therapy... Really. But that's another story.

Of course, in hindsight, God was developing valuable skills and experience within me to prepare me for this new position (looking back, it was like being paid well to "go to school"), but I couldn't see that at the time. What I know is that my current job allows me to be essentially on the same schedule as my children, know completely what is going on in their schools (my therapy room was two doors down from Grace's first grade classroom last year), allows the girls to be in schools they love, lets me work with an amazing team of educators, do something I love, and speak my native language, and yeah - now I have vacation... I am amazed by it, actually.

I hadn't completely talked to God about that either. It ALL (good, bad, and ugly) came out on Friday night, and after about two hours of sobbing and talking to Him (and thinking "crap, I don't have benadryl or anything, I cannot breathe - how am I going to sleep?!), I came to a wonderful place of listening.

And that is essentially how I spent the rest of the beautiful weekend. I hadn't been there in a long time. Perhaps more on that later.

I will tell you the next morning began with me singing in bed:

Morning has broken Like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing Fresh from the Word!

Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden say play!
Praise with elation, Praise every morning,
God's recreation Of the new day!

P.S. I found a miraculous surprise benadryl in my make-up bag right after I brushed my teeth on Friday night.

The Back Story, Installment 3

A long time coming, I know.
This has been more difficult than I thought; I had to take a break. Trying again...

We arrived in Dallas and moved in with Brian and Melanie, unsure of any plan beyond. We were loved and nurtured while we frantically tried to formulate...

The next thing.

Greg asked to volunteer in the Arts ministry of Chase Oaks Church in Plano, because he needed to. Instead, they offered him a part-time position within the Arts. This was very part-time, so it didn't qualify as official family income, but it was a start and a place Greg needed to be. Our whole family needed this church and we loved being there (Grace too, once she got used to the size).

Greg put out feelers with everybody we knew... anything that paid? No real leads... Lots of conversations eventually lead to Greg and Brian partnering to start a coffee roasting business - Greg had already been hobby-roasting for years in our garage in Kansas, the coffee was excellent, there were amazing opportunities for a humanitarian focus...

Starting a new business is tricky (the sense of time and income-producing variables gets skewed in the vision stage), and although the business was slowly growing, reality began to sink in. Shortly after moving into our own home and beginning minor renovations (necessary in an angrily-lived in foreclosed-upon home), Greg and I realized I would need to find employment.

Um, marketable skills? Let's see... stay-home mom and then home-schooling mom for a total of 13 years. I think I gained lots of important skills during that time. How do I put those on a resume? Where do I send a resume?

No idea...

Ritz-Carlton

In light of it being our LAST day in Colorado, we embarked upon one more family hike this morning. Many of the hikes we've done in the past are currently closed due to massive amounts of snowfall this past winter ("You could try it, but you'd need snowshoes...").

Greg researched a new trail... the "Village to Village" trail that would take us from Arrowhead to Bachelor Gulch - right to the Ritz-Carlton that he's been wanting to check out anyway. Originally, he planned a longer hike but decided on this one because it was shorter and we could just hike right back to our van.

Trail map distances can be REALLY deceiving.

It was a gorgeous day, and thankfully we packed lunches. We saw snow, unique wildlife tracks, and breathtaking views. After 2 1/2ish hours of hiking uphill, Grace was steadfastly plopping one foot down after the other while her face looked as if it was being dragged along against it's will. We began to wonder if I should turn back now with Grace, but she wanted to stay together and try to keep going.

Grace handed me a dandelion ("blow flowers" as we've always called them), and told me to make a wish and then blow. Silently I made my wish/more of a prayer- "Please let there be a way to catch a shuttle back, so we don't have to walk all the way again..."

After one more 1/2 hour of downhill (hallelujah) hiking, we finally came upon civilization. Serious civilization. We arrived at the Ritz-Carlton, tired and slightly sweaty. Right inside the lobby was free lemonade and iced tea, so you could treat yourself to an Arnold Palmer - which we did. I had a looming headache due to needing afternoon coffee, so Greg went in search of coffee. The nice concierge said he didn't believe any coffee shops were open, so he would make us each a complimentary cup. He brought us coffee and two little plastic cups of cream.

We thought we were blending in relatively well, except for Abby's back-sack that said "Sheraton" (a gift from OUR concierge guy who wasn't as friendly when we didn't sign up for an appointment to hear more about being owners...) and enjoyed the wonderful service we were receiving. Greg asked about a shuttle that might take us back to our car (YESSS!), and the nice concierge helped us out again (didn't even ask us to make any appointments).

We caught a Ritz-Carlton shuttle that took us to Beaver Creek where we caught another shuttle that was supposed to take us to Arrowhead, except it didn't.

"Who told you a shuttle went to Arrowhead?" our shuttle-driver asked.

"Um, the concierge at the Ritz-Carlton," replied Greg.

Next thing we know, he's on the phone telling on that guy with significant emotion. He then tells us he's gotten us a ride and to make sure we told the lady driving the Suburban exactly who it was that gave us that incorrect information.

We didn't.

Because the deal is... he was very nice and treated us as if we were staying there (which we tried to pretend was true) and if he would've said there was no shuttle back to Arrowhead, we would've walked that whole way back again.

But this way we had a personal Suburban ride back to our car.

And we lived happily ever after.

Summer Margin

Summer is approximately 4.8 days old so far in my life and with it a glorious sense of margin I have not felt for awhile. Granted, my wonderful job allows me beautiful breaks during the year - but there is something about a budding sabbatical that brings mental, emotional, spiritual margin pushing me toward refreshment and growth.

I guess I feel like I've lived on autopilot for awhile now and I'm looking hopefully forward to trying my hand at flying a bit.

There are things that I want to be a consistent part of my life... reading, running, thinking, writing... that make me feel kind of like a failure during a 40 hour work week, because I cannot figure out how to incorporate them in. My hours at home disappear into the washing machine, grocery store, transportation to daughters' activities, a little into the oven and stove, a lot into the dishwasher, and then into exhaustion. I do love my job and feel immensely grateful for the opportunity to do what I do. My job brings me satisfaction, and I highly value what I have the opportunity to spend my hours doing (which I know is not the case for most people, and I recognize this as a blessing) -

However, I also realize that if I live on autopilot, I grow toward self-absorbtion, shallowness, soft in the middleness, and too much t.v. watchingness.

I am currently in Colorado thoroughly enjoying beauty, time to sleep and read and talk with Greg and the girls; time to run, hike, play tennis, and swim; time to play games as a family, go on dates with Greg, watch the Dallas Mavericks play in the NBA Championship (that's the only t.v. we're watching, really) and time to transition to margin.

Happy Summer.