Raising Humans

May 8, 2013
by Tricia
13 Comments

Carry on

“May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground. Carry on.”

~Fun

First, let me just say that if you ever want to form a band, name it something like Smiles or Laughter or, yes, Fun. I’m not actually such a huge fan of the band but typing out, “I’m not a big fan of Fun.” just feels wrong. The uppercase just makes it worse.

Still, a fan or not, I’ve recently become obsessed with their latest song, “Carry On.” And it’s all because of that one line.

As we approach the midway point of the year, I’m looking back and reflecting on how far I’ve come. I set some pretty big goals for myself in the early hours of 2013. Goals that take work and drive and pushing far beyond the space of comfort and safety.

Goals that change my words from, “I want to be a writer.” to “I am a writer.”

I started out thinking that all I needed was that goal. Set it and forget it and watch it happen.

Of course, it has not worked out that way. At all.

And so my year has been a series of small ups and some pretty low downs. In moments of blind confidence and optimism, I’ve put myself out there, sending my words out into the world and expecting that people will latch on and take them and run with them. And sometimes, that’s happened. But more often than not, it hasn’t. And the rejections have set me back.

In other moments, ones of fear and self-doubt, I’ve stopped myself before I even got started. I string words together in my head and then convince myself that my ideas are flawed before I even open my laptop. I read the words of others, those who have built careers around calling themselves ‘writer’ and I tell myself I am not that good. I see those who have been at this same goal, “I am a writer” for nearly as long as me, making great strides and accepting new positions and seeing their words and, importantly, their by-lines, in well-read places. And I wonder why. Why have they gone so far and I am still here? Barely steps ahead of where I was this time last year. Or the year before that. How did they get there and why can’t I go too?

It’s all there in that one line.

The sound of my feet upon the ground. The sound of my feet is faint, a mere pitter patter of tip toes across a carpet. Sometimes, there is no sound at all.

I’ve always done well with externally placed deadlines. Tell me what to do by when and you can count on me. Deadlines that I have to place on myself? Those are squishy. Nobody will be let down if I don’t meet that one. Or so I’d tell myself.

Now I’m realizing that yes, someone will be let down. Me. I will be let down if I don’t meet that deadline. My dreams will be let down. My family, who is supporting me and giving me all the motivation in the world, will be let down.

And so I’m starting this second half of the year with a renewed focus. At the end of the six months ahead, I want to look back and hear my feet upon the ground. I hope and I pray that there are results there too but, results aside, I want the evidence that I tried. Let the queries and pitches and words fly from my fingers in swarms. Let the rejection letters pile up if they must because I know it takes some of those to get to the moments of smiles and celebration.

“We are shining stars. We are invincible. We are who we are.” ~Fun

Because nothing motivates like having someone (or several someones) to report to, I will begin to report my progress here. I want you, my friends who come here and read my words and support me in the most amazing ways, to keep me accountable. I need that.

I can feel the tides shifting. I’m ready now.

“No one’s ever gonna stop us now.” ~ Fun

After watching this video, I may be changing my opinion about the band. They are Fun.

~~~~~

I’m collecting a fair amount of helpful resource as I carry on right now. For my writer friends out there (and, selfishly, for my own quick reference) I’ve created a page to collect everything I’m finding helpful. If you are a writer, or don’t think you are yet but want to be, check this out and check back often as I keep it updated. And if you have a resource that you’re willing to share, send it along and I’ll add it up there.

~~~~~
linking up with Shell

May 4, 2013
by Tricia
9 Comments

Your real beauty

My girl,

There is an ad campaign out and about right now that aims to say to women, “You are more beautiful than you think.”

This seemingly simple and positive message is creating quite a bit of buzz. Some people love the campaign, some people hate it. Some poke fun at it and many criticize it for not going far enough.

As a woman who has struggled greatly with issues of self esteem, self confidence, and self love, the whole controversy interests me. I don’t yet know where I stand on it but it is almost cathartic for me to think through and define my position.

As your mother, however, the campaign and the surrounding controversy… well it scares me. It reminds me of how desperately important it is that I pay particular attention to how I talk with you, around you, and about you. How incredibly important it is that I pay attention to what I show you and how I frame things for you. How my role now is to guide you and protect you, but, mostly, to arm you so that you may walk down a path different than the one I traveled.

I want you to watch this ad someday and find yourself shaking your head and scoffing,“Yeah, I know I’m beautiful. This ad is silly.” And I want you to know what makes you beautiful. I want you to be able to describe it.

I want you to know that you are crazy smart and witty and and there is a brilliance to how you learn and know and remember.

But you are not just ‘the smart girl’ with the beautiful brain.

You are exceedingly caring and kind in a way that is mature far beyond your years and there is the most genuine quality about how you nurture and love that attracts people to you.

But you are not just ‘the sweet girl’ with the beautiful heart.

You have a presence that is comforting and calming, while energizing at the same time and your spirit spreads smiles like wildfire.

But you are not just ‘the spiritual girl’ with the beautiful soul.

You have thick, dark, sleek hair and big, deep, brown eyes that pop and sparkle and, already, people tell you that you are beautiful.

But you are not just ‘the pretty girl’ with the beautiful features.

You are smart and kind and spiritual and beautiful.

These words are your armor against the images and insults and negativity that is out there in the world. Believe these words. They are true.

They are true of you. And, as your mother, I am beginning to accept that they are true of me too.

All my love,
Mommy

April 30, 2013
by Tricia
13 Comments

Mom of two – the good

I had a post written for today about being a mom of two.

It went on and on about how, in the beginning, everyone asks how it’s going and what’s it like now, being a mom of two. But who really knows what something is like after doing it for only a week or two or even three. And then it went on and on about how being a mom of two is hard and exhausting and plagued with guilt before, in typical me fashion, turning it all around to the positive.

And it’s true. Being a mom of two is hard. And it is exhausting. And I feel guiltier about the time that I don’t spend with my children now than I ever did before.

And maybe, someday, I’ll write the post. With a glass of wine in hand, at the end of a long day that will cap a longer week, the ‘it’s-so-hard’ post will flow. It does need to be written and I’ll be powerless to stop it.

But today, I’m not there.

Today, I balanced my baby on my hip as I guided my girl into school and I soaked up the oohs and ahhs and the “oh my goodness he is so cute!” and “he looks like your girl!” And I loved every minute.

Today I walked through the grocery store, pushing an infant in a stroller while a little girl in a fairy princess shirt skipped along next to me and I felt myself smiling a big goofy smile but I couldn’t stop it. It just felt so perfect.

Today I sat my children next to each other on the couch, trying to take our monthly photo so that someday, I’ll look back and watch them grow over and over and over and I caught the most precious moments between big sister and little brother.

And she was his strength as we took his bandaids off, the ones that covered the place where the 6 month injections went in today. And she moved her game of school clear across the room to involve him in her imagination. And when he was barely hanging on, struggling to stay awake as bedtime neared, it was her face that elicited his brilliant smile.

Being a mom of two is hard. Somedays it is so very hard.

But oh man is it simply too beautiful for words.

~~~~~

Pour your heart out.

April 30, 2013
by Tricia
3 Comments

You and your brother

My girl,

It’s been quite some time since I’ve written to you here. Busy times and all that. I’m not sure you will remember this time in all of its chaos and craziness. In fact, I hope you won’t remember the details of these days that found Mommy and Daddy always running here and there, whipped up in such a frenzy all of the time trying to get ‘it all’ done between yawns and desperate gulps of coffee. I hope, for us both, that those memories fade.

But I hope you never forget that these were the months when we all fell in love with a certain little boy who rocked our world. These were the months when you became a big sister, a role it seems you were born to play and one that you play with so much pride and love. I have never seen a big sister so proud of her brother, so eager to love and care and nurture. I have never seen a three year old act so patiently.

I don’t remember my early, big sister days. There are a few stories of that time, none of them flattering, though I’m sure you’ll hear them all. Stories of me stealing my baby brother’s toys, acting out, things many consider to be typical big sister stuff.

I will have no such stories for you.

Instead, I’ll remind you of the lengths you would go to elicit a smile or a laugh from his little baby mouth. Of all of the times when you’d drop what you were doing to go pick up the toy he dropped.

Of all of the times he grabbed a fistful of your hair as you leaned in for a hug or a kiss. How you winced but immediately went back for more.

The hugs and the kisses were worth the pain of lost hair for you.

I’ll remind you that we brought him with us to wake you up each morning. Because each night you begged that his be the first face you see when you open your eyes to the new day.

So often, Daddy and I will catch you two in a moment. Smiling at each other after naps, playing together in the living room after dinner, hugging before bedtime. And our hearts grow with pride and love and excitement. This is what we want for you. I want for you this sibling relationship that I don’t have, that I’ve only had glimpses of during my 30 years as a big sister.

We want for you this beautiful, untarnished relationship. We want you to meet his gaze of adoration and love with one of nurturing and love. We want you both to create these bonds with each other. Sister and brother. Family.

So that is our promise to you both. That is our never-ending gift to you. We will continue to set the stage for this relationship. We will continue to nurture the little buds of love and caring and watch them blossom.

You two are lucky to have each other. I’ll see to it that you never forget that.

All my love,

Mommy

April 29, 2013
by Tricia
6 Comments

7 year anniversary

7 years ago today was a day to celebrate. Today is a day to celebrate.

A month ago, we meant to call a babysitter, make a reservation, and celebrate this occasion properly.

But then this and that and that other thing got in the way. And before we knew it, the weekend was upon us and we had no plans.

Five years ago, that would have sent me into a tailspin. A freaking out, questioning, insecure tailspin. How could we not celebrate? Were we not prioritizing each other, our love, this day? What’s happening to us? We can’t even make plans to celebrate our own anniversary? Do we not love each other anymore? Or enough?

Yes, I was that girl.

My husband might argue that I still am that girl.

And… he’d be right.

I’ve seen a love taken for granted and I’ve seen a love celebrated and I know which one I want. A love taken for granted starves and withers. It frays with time until even the tiniest pull of a thread starts the whole thing unraveling. And up until a certain point, you can mend and patch but, eventually, the hole grows too big and the taking for granted has gone too far. There is a point of no return. Words become harsh. Greetings and goodbyes, cold and unfeeling. Respect, and understanding, and appreciation – the foundations of love – disappear. And it might be a long path but it is a path nonetheless and I don’t want to be on it.

These are the days when celebrating is hard. Littles need and they need a lot and we are the ones to provide. Needs come before wants. Champagne toasts and romantic dinners for two are tough to fit in. Possible, but tough.

But that’s not to say that we did not celebrate.

A family restaurant, baby boy in the highchair for the first time, our girl coloring and babbling, sharing a salad and a few slices of pizza.

Sharing sick-child-duty in the middle of the night, working together on a half dozen loads of laundry, seamlessly moving through the day, picking up children, exchanging a kiss here or a hug there in passing.

It was work. It was not glamorous or champagne or romantic. But it felt like love. Not taken for granted.