5 people=5 personalities

I think that most of us would agree that if you have a group of five people, there are going to be five different and distinct personalities in that group. No two people are the same, and so if you gathered a few people together, you may have some who have some similar tendencies, but they would still be very different people. For some reason, this logic goes out the window when I think of my family.

Part of this is because we're family. We live together, I gave birth to three of the people in my home, and so we share at least a lot of genetic material. The other part of this, I'll admit, is because three of the people in this house are children. I know that kids have different personalities, but I realized tonight that I have been forgetting some of the depth of those personalities and the needs that come with them.

On the personality scale, I'm an extrovert. If you want to get all Meyers-Briggs on me, I'm an ESTJ. Even extroverts need their alone time, but I should mention that I'm not an extreme extrovert. I'm really just a little margin over the dividing line between extrovert and introvert. I have always been ok with being alone for periods of time, and I like doing my own thing. I love being with friends and family, but I also really need time away from that togetherness and noise. When I get home in the afternoon, I really want to go into my room and be alone for a bit. Then when my husband comes home, I'd really like some time alone with him. With our schedules, this is hard to achieve and doesn't often happen.

In talking with my 11 year old daughter this evening, I can tell that she isn't getting her needs met. She is probably as extreme an extrovert as there has ever been. She really doesn't seem to ever want to be not talking to someone, much less alone. She was upset because she felt that my husband and I don't spend much time with her (and her siblings) because this evening he and I decided to watch a movie together in our bedroom without the kids. I'll be honest; part of me wanted to scream. When I think about the time that I spend driving the kids to and from school, helping with homework, getting them ready in the morning, hanging out with them in the afternoons, driving them to soccer practice, talking to one while the other one is at soccer practice, taking them to music lessons, and then listening to and watching them practice their instruments...then today we hung out in the morning, took them to the country club to swim, had lunch together, and then I drove the girls all over kingdom come to get supplies for her ASB presidential campaign...I seriously want to look her in the eye and ask "Are you kidding me?" Then I hear the voice of the mom deep in my heart. The one who wants to be a better parent than she had, the one who wants to have an awesome and close relationship with her kids. The one who also drives my guilt and clouds my judgment. She reminds me that my child is telling me that her needs are not being met, and in a way, she's not feeling loved. It's up to me to fix that, right? The problem is, I don't know how.

How do you parent an incredibly extroverted child when you desperately need your alone time? How do you balance those needs so that you don't go crazy and your child feels loved and fulfilled? This is something I have yet to figure out, and I hope that I do so before our relationship is permanently damaged.

Identity Crisis

I realize that everyone goes through periods of life when they are struggling to discover who they really are. There are times that we all find ourselves striving to be who other people expect us to be, and times that we feel that we really are being true to ourselves. What I think is sadly too common is the feeling that we need to somehow apologize or feel embarrassed of who we really are. I have no doubt that everyone goes through this, regardless of gender or age, but it bothers me that this is something that I still struggle with at my wise old age of 35.

I grew up as the youngest of three children, with two older brothers. Because of this, there was never a lack of boys in my home. I understood how they talk, some of how they think, and all of that jazz. Being around boys has always been comfortable to me; it has also gotten me labeled as a big flirt. Of course, I kind of am, but that's a different issue entirely. Being the youngest, I always wanted to be involved and included. I didn't want to be the annoying little sister, it was a role that birth order and genetics had given to me. I wanted to be part of the group and accepted, just as pretty much everyone does.

If my brothers had been different people, this might have meant that I was really into sports, or mechanics, or getting dirty or something. However, my brothers are delightfully geeky, theatrical, imaginative, and intellectual. I'm not saying jocks can't be intellectual, don't read more into this than is intended! So in my house, this meant that I got into role playing games, drama (the kind on stage, not the type you try to avoid), fantasy books, and science fiction. Now, most of this feels completely natural. I genuinely like all of these things, perhaps not quite to the extent my brothers do, but they do feel organic to who I am. It's just not all of who I am.

Take that beginning, then add in the fact that I'm a real-live girl. Much to my mother's dismay, I never cared about my clothes, hair, or make-up in high school. Sweats, scrunchies, socks, and Birkenstocks were common school attire. That being said, I would not really describe myself as a true tomboy. I liked make-up and nice hair, but I didn't feel I knew how to look good with it. I always felt that if I tried to wear popular clothes or do my hair or my make-up, I was an imposter. Like I was trying to be something or someone that I wasn't, and that others would call me out for being a phony. It took me until about the last two years or so to get over that, no joke. I love cute clothes, I love feminine shoes, I adore make-up, and I want to have gorgeous hair. My heart has always longed to be that girl. You know the one I mean. The one who walks into a room, and everyone turns and looks. The one that guys all try to talk to and want to be with. For some reason I was always so confident in parts of myself, except for my appearance. But, I digress.

Now fast forward to my current life. I have a professional job, I'm a mom, and all of that feminine jazz. I can wear heels and make-up and cute clothes everyday if I want. I also have days that I can wear sweats and go make-up-less...sure, that's a word. Now I have my husband who is wonderful and sweet and accepts all of my crazy. He's really into off-roading. I mean, it is really his passion. He looks at rocky hills that I don't want to hike up, and drives his truck up them. So, as logic would have it, he has a lot of friends who enjoy doing the same crazy stunts. I really believe the entire sport of rock crawling was born from this group of crazy rednecks saying "Hold my beer, I'm going to try something." The off-roading community has become a big part of our social circle. This pulls me to feel like I need to become yet another person. I need to be hot, because, well, women always have to be hot, right? I need to be ok with being dirty, going days without a shower or clean clothes, spending vast amounts of money and time on a vehicle that breaks every time we use it, be able to hang with "the boys" and all of their crude or stupid conversation, and somehow find the strange combination of being a hot chick who isn't too into feminine things. Hm. So, this is my interpretation of what this would look like: take a model from a typical car shop's calendar, infuse her with the knowledge of how to actually work on the car she's bending over, and give her the coolest, most easy going personality imaginable. I just can't live up to that for so many reasons. What's more, it just isn't who I really am. Why do I feel the need to apologize for that? Why should I feel embarrassed about what I like and don't like? I struggled, wrote, and deleted some kind of ending sentence to this post for almost ten minutes, and I came up with nothing. I am forced to fall back on what all of my students and children love to write at the end of everything: The End.

The trappings of technology

I'm reading a fantastic book, called The Dumbest Generation. It doesn't completely demonize technology, but it does point out a lot of the adverse effects of it on Generation Y and on the Millennial Generation as well. The author talks about things like shortened attention span, inability to focus on one single task at a time, and the people's complete preoccupation with themselves and their social circle. What's more powerful though, are the effects that are being seen with the lack of reading among these generations. The author points out that it is not simply the use of technology and watching of television that causes all of these problems, but it is more that people and kids are spending less and less time reading and enjoying the arts. He highlights the immense potential the internet holds (Library of Congress, Smithsonian Institute, etc.), but that very few actually take advantage of that accessibility.

There is far too much information in the book for me to summarize in a paragraph, but I know that if it interests you, you'll read the book yourself. What it does, however, is make me want to cancel my cable and banish my children from the internet except for when I show them art, music, or current events. It makes me glad that my children are readers, but feel like I should be doing so much more. That I should be reading more and setting that example, that I should stop turning on the television in the evening, that I should be incorporating SAT vocabulary words into daily conversation. Basically, I found another way to feel like I could be a better mom.

I'm well aware of the two sides of this sword. On the one side, I think it is a good thing to feel challenged, convicted, and see that there could be better ways to live. I constantly strive to be a better person, a better parent, a better wife, a better friend, a better employee, and sometimes I try to be a better housekeeper. That last one doesn't often pan out though. Self improvement is a positive thing, and I think it is also a small sign of maturity. The challenge lies in balancing those feelings with the sharper and pointier side of the sword. Those voices in your head that remind you of everything that you aren't. The thoughts of how you're damaging your children permanently and irreparably. Mine continuously tell me how I should be thinner, fitter, smarter, more cultured, better at managing money, more patient, craftier, and an all around better woman. It doesn't help that in my eyes, my own mother was the epitome of SuperMom. She worked full time, was my Girl Scout Troop Leader, cooked square meals every night, helped her three kids with their school projects and homework, and still found time to read novels every night; on top of grading papers and lesson planning (my mother was also a teacher). When I interact with my kids, I still think "What would my mom have said or done in this situation?" I drive my kids to their activities, I'm often short-tempered with them, I help them with their homework, I cook maybe a few nights a week, I make them make their own lunches, and I have the TV on far too much. I have highs of wanting to be with my family all the time and do things together, and lows of just wanting to be alone. I want to sit at the table every night with my family and eat dinner and have stimulating conversation, but most nights we grab a plate and sit on the couch. In so many ways I feel not like a failure, but like I'm mediocre. I have so many aspirations and desires, and yet I spend time sitting on my couch, and usually on my computer. Ironically, research is showing that spending time on the internet, particularly on sites such as Facebook and Pinterest (where I spend most of my online time), makes people feel depressed and inadequate. This doesn't surprise me, by the way, because seriously, who are these moms on Pinterest decorating their houses with pallets and chalkboard paint?

I don't really have any solution to this, aside from trying to make small changes over time. Change is uncomfortable and difficult, but it can be a positive thing, as long as I don't overwhelm myself. Along the way, I'll definitely be praying for help and my children's grace.

A family vision lost

I am the youngest of three children. I have two older brothers, which had its pros and cons. I understood from early on how men think, see things, live, stink, eat, and navigate relationships with other humans on this planet. It also made me the geek girl that I am today, which is something that I value and have pride in. I'm sure that you figured out what the cons were the second you read that I was the youngest and the only girl.

When I was growing up, I of course had all sorts of ideas and dreams of what I thought our relationships would be like as we grew older. My brothers are five and nine years older than I am, so the oldest was already a teenager in my earliest memories. As a result of the age difference, as well as some personality conflicts, we were never really close. I love him, and he loves me, and I know that when the chips are down, we would do anything for each other. As long as everyone is pretty much ok though, we rarely interact. My other brother and I have always gotten along pretty well, and only had the typical big brother/annoying little sister conflict.

Our mother is one of four children, and also the only girl. Partly because they had no cousins, she and her brothers were close, and remained close as they grew up. As they all married and had children of their own, they continued to celebrate holidays together and have get-togethers throughout the year. As a result, we obviously were close to our cousins, aunts, and uncles. It always felt special, and it impressed upon all of us how important family is. My brothers and I often spoke about how we wanted to raise our children the same way, and for them to be close to their cousins.

I always knew that I wanted a husband and children, that I wanted a family of my own. Being the youngest and given the age differences, I really thought that I would be an aunt long before I was ever a mother, and I had ideas about what it would be like to be an aunt and how fun it would be. I envisioned that we would always live fairly close to each other, and that we would be present in each others' lives and our children's lives. In short, that we would live much like my mother and her brothers. Married family was still family, and everyone made the effort to be a family. Therefore, I felt that even though I had spent my entire childhood wishing for a sister, when my brothers married, I would have sisters. I would finally be able to experience that awesome relationship that sisters have, and we would be friends as well as family. This is what I had imagined it would be like, and this is the dream and vision that I now have to mourn so that I can accept and move forward.

My brothers and I are different people, and we have had very different paths in our lives. I actually ended up being the first one married, and it wasn't long before I began having children. It took my brothers a little longer to find the right people for them, and I feel that they were all the wiser for waiting! One thing that I did not like was the distance between us as we were starting our married lives. My oldest brother and his wife lived in North Carolina, my other brother and his wife lived in Minnesota, and my husband and I lived in Colorado, while our parents remained in our native Southern California. It was difficult to feel connected as we were strewn across the United States, but we each had our things that we needed to do. I thought and hoped that it would just be for a short season, and that we would be closer to each other before long.

Here I stand now, my bubble thoroughly burst. My oldest brother and his wife remain in North Carolina, and also remain childless. I like his wife well enough, but I feel like I don't really know her all that well and we obviously do not get to spend time together. I barely ever talk to my brother, and it has been five years since I've seen them. My other brother and his wife life nearby, but have decided not to have children. I also have anything but the picturesque relationship with his wife. I sincerely hope that that will improve in the future, but for right now this is where we are.

I'm sad. I feel robbed of the experience of having sisters, of being an aunt, and even more painful, that my children have been robbed of the experience of having cousins and aunts and uncles. I am thankful that my brother spends time with them, but the situation is just a bummer. I don't know what to do from this point. I just feel that I need to accept what is and get over what I "lost." One would think that this wouldn't be so hard, since it's something I never had to begin with. One would be wrong.

The voices in my head

I really walk around convinced that I'm not the only one who has a constant running interior dialogue. If this is not true, please do not burst my bubble, but if it gets out of hand, you may want to have me forcibly committed.

There are two major problems I find with this running dialogue: first, I cannot always keep it contained in my head. It isn't long before I am literally talking to myself. I do this unabashedly when I'm home alone, but I find it hard to control when I'm out in public. Particularly in places like grocery stores. When my kids were younger, I got away with this because I would just talk to my kids non-stop. No one really thinks this is strange, because you're developing your kids' vocabulary and language skills. I no longer have the cover of tiny children though, as I usually do the grocery store alone. The second issue is that if the dialogue is not about the task at hand, it frequently turns negative. It becomes playing out conversations that I wish I could have, but refrain from having. Things that I wish I could say, but with better judgment, decide to hold my tongue. The worst is that I'm not immune to this stream of negative talk. Why is it that in those moments when I'm alone, when I'm trying to catch my breath and enjoy a moment of solitude, or meditation, or even communion with God, the things that replay over and over in my mind are my times of biggest embarrassment. Times when I've made the wrong decision, said the wrong thing, been hurtful, been stupid, or been petty. Don't get me wrong, the times that I fall short far outnumber any brief glimpses of succeeding in showing Christ to the world, but still...is this some crafty plan of the enemy to wear me down, or is this just simply depression and regrets catching up with me?

So far, my hectic pace is going ok. There are some times that I feel sad because of activities that I'm missing out on, or that there are things that I really don't want to do, but for the most part I'm holding up ok. I'm trying to take advantage of opportunities instead of moping about my lot in life. While one girl is at soccer practice, I practice, walk, and jog with the other one. We will see how long it lasts. I just worry that by spreading myself too thin, I will be doing a mediocre to poor job at everything. We shall see. One thing remains certain, I will continue to talk to myself. Probably more than ever.

The outsider

Yesterday was my girls' first soccer games of the season. Unfortunately, they were playing at the same time, so my husband and I had to divide and conquer. He and our son watching Miri play, and I watched Kat play. Both girls lost sadly, but at least it wasn't a shut out. Both teams scored two goals, and neither of my girls ever gave up. I did feel a little bad for Miri, as she has only been able to attend one practice because of being at her dad's house in Denver. This means that she doesn't know how to do much, and doesn't understand all of the rules yet. She gets quickly and easily frustrated as a result, but she hung in there like a trooper and never stopped running after the ball and trying. I reassured her that she will get better as the season goes on, and that she has to cut herself a break. The other unfortunate thing is that her coach leaves a lot to be desired, but I'm hoping that she still has a positive experience this year and learns a lot.

Kat's coach, on the other hand, is very good. There are things that she needs to work on, but she did very well and tried very hard. She has played before, so even though it's been a little while, she at least knows the rules and a lot of the basics. She played for two quarters, which is good since she has only been able to come to three practices because of being at her dad's house. I'm confident that she will improve a lot this year. She's a fast learner, and she's very naturally athletic.

So, it sounds like everything is going swimmingly, right? Well, it is. However, I still couldn't help but feel a bit out of place and uncomfortable yesterday. It didn't help that I was sitting by myself watching the game without anyone else that I know. Two of the other moms on Kat's team are friendly with me and we make idle chit chat from time to time. Their daughters are the two star players on the team from what I've seen so far. Kat is only one of a couple of new girls to this league, all of the other girls have played together for years. I noticed a shift in the other moms' behavior when one of the other "good players" was pulled out of the game so that my daughter could go in. They then grew quieter, and repeatedly complained about that particular girl being rotated out of the game. When my daughter was on the field, I was the only one cheering her on, even though I cheer on other people's kids. It was subtle, but it stung. I know that everyone gets competitive and we all want our team to win, and our child to do well, but there are days that I feel like I'm the only one who remembers that these girls are 11 and 12 years old. It was also another day of being reminded that since we've only lived here for two years, we are still the new kids on the block. I have to admit that this is still an adjustment for me. Because we moved here from my hometown, I was used to knowing at least a couple of people at any of my kids' activities. I always had someone with whom I was at least acquainted, and therefore able to chat or feel more comfortable with. That has been taken away from me. I know that it's a process, and I'm not exactly an unfriendly person, but it is at times a painful process. I sometimes can't help but feel like some weird imposter, like my kids and I don't fit simply because we're new or because we're trying something new. Please, for my sake, if there's someone new or a kid who's not so good, be kind in as many ways as you can. To the parents and the kids.

Tomorrow is the first day of school for the kids, and with that comes my son's first day of junior high. We picked up his schedule and textbooks, and walked around campus to find his classes. He's nowhere near excited, as school is not his thing to begin with, and he has a hard time with change. He is a little nervous, but a little less so since we walked around campus, found his classes, and figured out how long it will take him to ride his bike to school. However nervous he is, I guarantee that I'm even more anxious. More about him riding his bike to school (yes, I know, he's almost 13...sigh), but also that he's going to be picked on as much or more than I was in junior high. 6th-8th grade kids just aren't very nice in general. There are exceptions, but it's just an unpleasant age and one I'd never want to repeat.

One last thought. I really never thought I'd be one of those moms, but, well, here I am. How can you be a soccer coach and give your players Flaming Hot Cheetos, Capri Suns, and Barbecue Potato Chips for mid and post game snacks? What in the world could you be thinking? I understand that not everyone shares my nutritional views, but chips and Cheetos? Yeah, just wait until it's my turn to bring snacks :) I had brought additional snacks for my girls in case the coaches forgot or brought things the girls wouldn't like: Shaklee's Performance drink (healthier alternative to Gatorade), protein bites (peanut butter, honey, Shaklee protein powder, oatmeal, flax seed meal, and wheat germ), and oranges. The girls LOVE the protein bites (so do I), and I'm happy to report that the Flaming Hot Cheetos went uneaten and were thrown away. Well, back to my wonderfully lazy Sunday. Enjoy yours!

On the horizon

One of the ways in which I'm in an unfortunate majority is that I am a divorced mom. I had my three beautiful children with my first husband, and nine years ago, our marriage dissolved and my children and I moved back to California while my ex-husband remained in Colorado. Because of this, my kids go to Colorado for two weeks every summer. Even though this has occurred pretty routinely for the past eight years, I still cry when I walk away from them and their father. It's easier than it used to be, but I think I will always have a few tears in those first few moments.

I have to confess, the first week that they are gone is pretty nice. The house is quiet, things that I clean remain clean, and I get to be selfish and lazy without guilt. By the end of the first week though, I'm ready for them to come home and I miss them something fierce. I get my kids back on Tuesday, a mere two days away. This makes me incredibly happy, but it also reminds me of the amazing pace at which time marches on. The girls' first soccer games are on Saturday. I pick up D's schedule and textbooks on Thursday for his first year of junior high. Tomorrow is my first day of this school year back in the office. I can already feel my blood pressure beginning to rise; I think I need to learn some yoga!

In preparation for my children returning, I decided to finally today begin the project of deep cleaning my girls' bedroom. I have often done this when they're at their father's house, simply because I can get all the deep cleaning done and have it stay that way for a little bit. That was definitely my reasoning for it this year, but it was also fueled by my increasing frustration with their apparent incapability to clean the room on their own and their disregard for their possessions. Over the past few months, I cannot count how many opportunities they've been given (or demanded) to clean and organize their things, and how many times over the past few years I've assisted them with the process. I reached my breaking point. I'm not claiming that my way is necessarily the "correct" way to do it, I just know that I was maxed out on the process and needed to do it myself. While I'm frustrated with the girls for not taking better care of their things, there's also a big part of me that can't blame them for being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things in their room and lack of true organization. So, I guess this is how I rationalize my sorting of their things without their input. I haven't stripped all input from them, but I figure if things have been in a tub for a year without having seen the light of day, it's safe to get rid of. Hopefully I haven't caused irreparable scars, and that they'll be more excited about the beauty and fun of their room than focused on the items that are missing. I wish that I could say I don't know where my girls get their messy ways from, but, well...I know all too well where they get it from. I'm working on mending my ways and trying to instill better habits in my children. It's a daily struggle, as I think it is for all moms out there. At least, I certainly hope so :)

Because there's always room for pictures!

Just a little glimpse into my week of vacation...

Just one of the many beautiful views that the Rubicon Trail has to offer

Our two wonderful friends who put us up for the week and went wheeling and camping with us. So much fun, such great friends!

The view from over the hood of our rig

We camped near a lake and a dam. It was beautiful, and nice cool water. We just put our feet in the water and enjoyed the experience until a water snake brushed against our friend's leg. We then decided it would probably be best to not go for a swim!

Our drive across the Golden Gate bridge. This was my husband's first trip to San Francisco!

Outside one of my favorite places in San Francisco, the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company

We weren't able to tour Alcatraz on this trip, so we got a picture of it from a pier. That's my adorable husband.

Fishermans Wharf! (duh)

There were several people swimming in the bay near the piers with no wetsuits. My husband and I think they are insane, and so they needed to have their picture taken.

This was a cute little cafe that we really liked! We stopped in and splurged on a refreshing drink.

Ok, we're not Catholic, but this church was absolutely amazing. So gorgeous. I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of the inside, it just seemed irreverant for some reason. I'm not sure if that's a word, but I'm using it. It was an amazing place. St. Paul and St. Peter's Catholic Church near Columbus Street.

I had to take a picture of this sign because it made my husband laugh so hard. This was near the end of our walking tour of San Francisco, and we had walked down the not-so-pretty and smelly-to-our-white-American-noses part of Chinatown. Shortly after this, we found a much prettier and more entertaining street. Andy was intrigued by the wide variety of things available in this store.

Vacation

For the few of you readers who may have read my previous blogs, I'm sorry that they no longer exist. I haven't posted on either of them in quite a while, and I wanted a little bit of a fresh start.

As I type this first entry, my husband and I are driving through Central California to get home from our first vacation without kids since our honeymoon. Granted, our honeymoon was only five years ago, but still...it was so very needed and appreciated! We took one whole glorious week to drive from our home in the high desert of California to our friends' home in Petaluma, California. From there, we all took our off-roading rigs to the Rubicon Trail near Lake Tahoe. We wheeled and camped for three days, and had a fabulous time breaking car parts, getting dirty, and using some questionable pit toilets. We also took a day to do the poor man's tour of San Francisco. My husband had never been there before, so we knew that there were several sights that he should see. If you are unfamiliar with what the poor man's tour may be, let me explain. When you have just enough money to get home from your vacation and yet you still want to see some things, you find an inexpensive parking garage in San Francisco. Then you walk. Everywhere. We walked ten miles just in the city yesterday, and that includes up and down some major hills. We had a fantastic time! You also do all of this walking with a backpack equipped with food and water from home so that you do not have to pay $20 per person to eat a sandwich in the city. We got our exercise, we saw some awesome things, and we had some memorable experiences.

I am so thankful for our vacation, and for such wonderful friends to allow us to invade their space for a week. I am happy to be headed home, but not quite so happy that this means that the beginning of a new school year is coming at me like a runaway freight train. Next week, I should receive a call from my son's counselor to pick up his schedule for the year. My son is starting junior high, which is still a little difficult for me to swallow. Seventh grade doesn't seem all that long ago for me, so it seems hard to comprehend that I have a child going into seventh grade. My daughter is going into sixth grade, so this is her last year at the elementary school. My youngest (also a girl) is going into fourth grade. Time keeps marching on, whether we're ready for it or not. The boy, D, is continuing to learn guitar and is in the process of joining DeMolay (an organization for boys). Kat is learning violin, is active in Job's Daughters (an organization for girls), and is playing soccer this year. Mir is also learning violin, is becoming active in Job's Daughters (she's not old enough yet to be an official member), and is also playing soccer this year. I am a wife, a mom of these three incredibly intelligent kids, a mom of two adorable dogs, and I am an Education Specialist for an independent study charter school. I'd be lying if I said I weren't a little bit worried or overwhelmed by this year's schedule. I know that somehow, some way, I will make it through with God's strength.

So, there we are. My kids are visiting their dad in Colorado until next Tuesday, so we've had a great vacation without them, and I get a few days to get settled back in and the house prepped for their return. They have been gone for two weeks, and I'm ready for them to be back; my life is so quiet without them, which quickly feels strange.