My Confession

I have a confession to make. I hear gongs.

Bells and gongs are used in many cultures for many different purposes. People the world over use them to create a centered mind, clear negative energy and to celebrate special moments.

These are not the gongs I hear.

I started really noticing the gongs during my divorce. It was a sad and scary time and I felt like the world was off axis. Enter Mr. T.

We had known each other very slightly in high school and had become friends through social media much later in life. When we both found ourselves divorcing, we became closer, texting all the time, sharing the common experience. We hadn't seen each other in 17 years the day we agreed to meet for breakfast. I arrived to his house to pick him up but instead of getting into the car, he made me get out and hug him. I instantly recalled the moment we had hugged at a funeral 17 years before. It felt like home both times.

GONG!

Later on, we had our first outing with all of the kids together that culminated in preparing a meal for them. While working in the kitchen, we bumped into each other and locked eyes. It was as if we had bumped into each other while feeding our kids a million times.

GONG!

On a lark, we built a firepit in what was then Mr. T's backyard and camped out on the deck with the kids. I dozed off to the sounds of Bright Eyes singing about blankets on the beach, gazing at five pairs of feet stretched out to the warmth and glow of the fire.

GONG!

The gong is healing and rejuvenating and reassuring. It's like for a moment, I can hear the perfect resonance of the universe and rest comfortable in the fact that for that instant, I am part of it, experiencing and creating a small piece of perfection. The gong sustains.

One of the hardest parts of this new normal, this enormous family of blended origin, melded experience and newfound tradition, is the cosmic juggling act that ensues. There are countless needs, wishes, desires and interests of our children, not to mention ourselves. We both have demanding careers. We have extended families that need our support and attention. It's complex and I can't help but feel scared sometimes, worrying that the Rockstar isn't eating enough vegetables or that Triple Threat is trying to grow up too fast or that there might be a load of laundry sitting in the washer smelly for days.

Friday night, I heard something I have never heard before. It was the loudest gong I have ever heard, accompanied by an angel choir. It shook me to my core.

It had been a terrible week, stressful, angstful, exhausting, draining. By the time Friday arrived, I felt like hamburger. It was supposed to rain lightly but we decided to move forward with our plan to accommodate the kids' frequent requests to camp out in our back yard. We had not had an opportunity to do that since we moved to Shangri La House last August.

We built two campfires in firepits on the patio and brought out futon mattresses and sleeping bags. Triple Threat and I created a tent city from our oversized patio umbrella and a tarp. We roasted hot dogs, and made s'mores and then, on her own accord, Triple Threat brought out the guitar and led the other kids in the singing of campfire songs before we all settled into our sleeping bags to watch Wreckit Ralph on a laptop under the tent.

GOOONNNNNNGGG!!

It's been a rough 2013 for us. Lots of illness, injury and drama. Some weeks, it seems like it comes at you from all sides and you end your days feeling like a lump of well-pulled taffy. I've had times like these before and I know they are seasons that shall pass, too. These are the times we need the gong even more. We need to be re-centered and reminded of the beauty that surrounds us, re-focused on that which really matters, and reassured that we're on the right path.

Bouncing Back From Gardening Failure

Weeks ago, when I started my seeds, I wrote about my fears of failure. Sadly, those fears have been realized. Almost every single seedling is dead. What remains are a few sugar snap peas, some spinach that's looking kind of not so good, and a few very stunted looking kale seedlings. Let's also not forget the curious case of the chive seeds that migrated from the pot in which I planted them clear over to the other side of my yard where they took root amongst the grass, giving me crazy smells every time I mow the lawn.

Having gone into this gardening season mentally prepared for at least some failure, I'm not quite as devastated as I could be. There are things that I could have done better, however, for the most part, these deaths were cause by some terrific rains that swept through the North American midwest a few weeks ago. We were fortunate to not have sustained any flooding damage, many in the surrounding areas lost everything. We did enjoy making lemonade from the lemons by boating in the retention pond in the park behind our home.

I fear it might be too late to start some of the seedlings over again, particularly for tomatoes and peppers. I'm not giving up, though. I will need to revert, at least for some things, to buying plants. All is not lost on my quest for more wholesome, organic and non-GMO, though. I have found a source in my home town who will be selling organic, locally grown seedlings tomorrow. I've perused their offerings in the past and know I'll find some amazing heirloom varieties that will be delicious.

5 Ways to Stop Feeling Pessimistic

Over the past weekend, we hosted a party at our home.  Two of my stepkids and my husband all have birthdays within 5 weeks of each other so we chose a day in the middle and had the grandparents over for an afternoon of grilling wings, throwing bags, drinking sangria and just hanging out. It came on the heels of a week so bad, one of the days alone would have been enough to be considered a bad week, only there were seven of them in a row. It ended up being eight but we didn't know that until later.

The day was absolutely beautiful.  I felt like my house had never been so clean, and my hostessing skills never so spot on. The weather was perfectly gorgeous after a week of torrential rains. All of the parents were getting along so nicely, the kids were happy, I was relaxed.

And then suddenly, it was not okay.

I had left my father in law standing on my front porch in order to retrieve my phone.  I came back to find he had fallen off the porch, face first onto the sidewalk. He broke every bone in his face. He had to be sedated for a couple of days and woke up in pain, not remembering how he got there, and yet as soon as he could communicate, he was cracking jokes. Talk about joie de vivre, this guy has it!

I am guilty of a sense of pessimism of late, 2013 has been challenging with it's illnesses, injuries and injustice. It's hard to take a beating over and over and not be prone to stink in' thinkin'. I realize that it can't get much worse than breaking you entire face and if he's not lying there feeling sorry for himself, neither am I. It's hard to break out of the cycle, so it will take some action. Here are five ways to snap out of the poor-me's:

1. Gratitude - It always starts with gratitude. Make a practice of being grateful for what you have.

2. Exercise - You know the deal, exercise releases endorphins, yadada, yadada.

3. Hugs - Make a physical connection with someone everyday. It just feels good.

4. Fun - Nothing beats a belly laugh.

5. Bacon - I don't need to explain this.

Someone Tell My Knee I'm Not a Runner

Perhaps it is my knee's way of telling me there is no way in hell I should be considering roller derby at this advanced and decrepit age, but I am seriously ready to kick it's ass.  Yes, I want to kick my knee in the ass.  Don't judge me, people in pain make no sense.

Runner's knee sucks.

Getting Organized - The Chore Chart

Last year was a whirlwind of change and planning and more change and by the time the New Year rolled around, I was grateful to not have anything planned for a good long time. Our total life makeover was complete. We had changed just about everything there was to change about our lives in a few short years and I, for one, was ready to settle into this new world of ours and get comfy. Then Murphy had other plans and decided to throw gallbladder surgery at me.

It was an uncomplicated surgery and recovery and my sweet, sweet man took excellent care of me while I slept the better part of a week away. Upon my re-entry into the world, I saw certain things with a new clarity. One of those things was the need to involve the entire family in taking care of our home. This had long been a challenge for me. 

It isn’t that I didn’t know it needed to be done. I was well aware each and every time I got up hours earlier than my family (weekends included) to forge ahead at the never ending piles of laundry, bills, shopping, cleaning, cooking. And it isn’t that nobody ever offered to help. There were moments when my frustration was evident and kids and adults alike knew from looking at me that they had better take out the freaking garbage or I might lose my shit. But it was unorganized assistance that was poorly timed and unskilled, usually resulting in a break of my flow and another, bigger, pile of work.

Something had to give.

First of all, I had to stop letting some of the kids’ reticence about us even being a family get in the way of organizing us like one. Like it or not, we had become the new normal, a blended “Brady-bunched” family and it was time to start acting like one, and time for me to start running it like one. What do children in families have? They have chores. Enter the chore chart.

With a family as large as ours with movements as complex, it was important to make something flexible. Mr. T’s kids are with us every weekend while mine spend time with their dad every other weekend. Sometimes, Lil’ Mama will spent time at her friend’s house, sometimes a different kid will be absent. This needed to be a nimble system that allows us to make quick changes to accommodate in some other way than me doing the work.

It has become the centerpiece of our kitchen and has virtually eliminated my feeling stressed or anxious about keeping the house in order. Mealtimes used to be tense and exhausting. Nothing ever was kept up with and it always seemed like we were bordering on the place turning into a flop house. Now, everyone knows their job and can see what other people are tasked with. 

3 Steps to Gardening Success

Starting a project is sometimes a scary thing for me.  I am a perennial beginner of projects. I have a laundry list of things I've thought were amazing ideas, things I have spent considerable time, effort and money on, only to walk away from those projects. Sometimes it's because the scope has gone out of whack and the job seems too big. Sometimes it's simply because I've failed at the task. Other times, I decide that it no longer meets the needs of me and my family. I've become almost afraid to begin anything new, already asking myself "are you going to finish it this time or what?"

Planning this new garden has not been exempt from my project fear and self loathing. I had pep-talked myself, encouraging me to keep the scope of the garden simple, to start slowly and to build this up over several years. And then I sat down with the kids to see what kinds of vegetables they wanted to grow.  I took their suggestions for nearly an hour, discussing all manner of fruit and vegetable, which ones would be tasty, what might thrive in our yard. Where I had intended to have maybe 10 different vegetables, some strawberries and a cook's herb garden, I ended up with over 3 dozen fruits and vegetables plus herbs. And a greenhouse.

And then I got scared.

Scared of failing. Scared of falling off. Scared of losing interest. Scared of just about every darn thing.  Stupid, really, to get scared of gardening. Cultivating food has been going on for thousands of years.  Millions of people were successful at it even before Al Gore invented the interwebs and Pinterest for us to share the tribal knowledge. Although there is a manure-ton of arcane knowledge and best practices around gardening, growing food is really pretty basic, only three steps.

Step 1: Plant seed in soil.

Step 2: Add water and sunlight.

Step 3: Collect Profits.

Surely, I can do those three things, right?  I mean, NOT doing those three things GUARANTEES I will fail. But doing those three things gives me about a gazillion percent better chance of success than not doing any of those three things.  So I jumped in.

I wanted to order non-GMO, Organic seeds but was afraid of the expense. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that SeedsNow.com had 99 cent packs. I quickly assembled an order including some 29 varieties of seed and checked out, waiting for my future garden to arrive by mail.  In the meantime, I pulled out a copy of my survey and drew out a sketch of our yard and began planning what plants would go where.  I also happened to find a hand drawn map left by the previous owners of the house, that details the existing plants and trees.  I was very excited to confirm a large thicket of lilac bushes!

Once the seeds arrived, I waited for the weekend to arrive so I could make a trip to the Home Depot to purchase soil and a seed starting tray.  I also decided to purchase a small greenhouse to move my seedlings to for hardening and maybe to try my hand at some cooler weather fare like spinach and lettuce.

I prepared the seed starting tray by adding water to the fat, squat pellets, marveling as they grew like Shrinky Dinks on my kitchen table. I drew gridlines on a piece of notebook paper, making 72 cells for the 72 cells in the tray, carefully noting which seed was being placed in which cell.  I also made another 72 cell table in which I noted how many days after sowing it took the seeds to sprout.

And then I waited.  But not that long.  It took 24 hours for some of the first seeds to sprout, those of a blue kale that I intend to sauté with garlic and power up my juices with. Each day, I dutifully noted the spouters and mourned the dormants. The longest to sprout were the asparagus, not surprising.

I don't know if this garden will be a wildly successful victory garden that feeds my whole neighborhood or if I will merely be lucky to harvest a single tomato.  What I do know is that just the very act of beginning will ensure a much higher rate of success than not beginning would yield.

Making Changes

I have been absent for a few weeks. A lot has happened.  

I quit smoking over three weeks ago. I had been smoking (mostly) on and off for over 20 years and did it on a lark, because my husband sweetly and softly told me he would prefer I didn't smoke.

I began juicing. I'm not fasting, but I am enjoying some incredible effects.

I lost my gallbladder. I can eat spicy foods and drink coffee again, hallelujah!

I am getting organized for the first time in years. I have filled a brand new file box and created a family chore board.

I registered the eldest child for high school, all honors. I also had the most incredible time doing it with her and will remember it forever.

I am (still) ridiculously happy. If you haven't known me a long time, this might not carry the same weight, but those who do know that this statement is a mother-loving miracle.

I feel like I am on a mission or like somehow, everything is just falling into place some more, settling more deeply into the reality that was there, just under the surface. I am so excited for where we are now and where we are going.