Wednesdays and Whiteboards

On By JesseIn Life, Motherhood, Thoughts, Work, Writing4 Comments

Normally, Wednesdays are nothing special around here, but this one is different because today I cleaned my giant whiteboard so we can hang it up in my office. Now, a giant whiteboard might not mean much to you, but there’s one person out there who knows exactly what giant whiteboards mean to me and I’m missing her terribly right now. Let me explain.

Seven-ish years ago, I left my career not long after having my first baby. It was incredibly painful. I loved my work, I loved my bosses, I loved my staff, and there was so much more I wanted to do there. Instead, I left, moved across the country with my man and new baby, and became a stay at home mom, eventually adding twin boys to the mix. Nowadays, my children are getting a bit older and more independent and I’m finding I have a little more time and energy to put toward other things.

I applied for a job with a company that would allow me to work 32 hour weeks, fully remotely, thinking it might give me that feeling of fulfillment I used to get from working outside the home. Then I didn’t get it and, while that was disappointing, it also made me realize something–I’d spent a couple weeks figuring out how I’d give 32 hours to that job while still providing my family with the care I want them to have . . . if I can find 32 hours for some company, surely I could find that time for the writing, the art, and the ideas I’ve always worked on in the cracks between everything else in my world, right?

Paradigm shift!

So I decided to be my own company and hire myself to work on my own ideas for 32 hours a week. I start today. : )

And this huge, clean, beautiful whiteboard is calling my name! I just wish Deb were here with her coffee and her notebook and pen to help keep me focused, write down the big stuff, and share in my excitement when the ideas start flowing, just like the good ol’ days.

When He Travels

On By JesseIn Life, Love, My Man, Poetry, WritingLeave a comment

When he travels
it’s not so different than other days.
I carry on here
with the kids, the house, and the animals
getting everyone fed
sis on the bus
move the laundry through
clean this or that.
Then pick sis up
get everyone fed again
before afternoon playtime
rolls into evening
and dinner
brushing teeth
wrestling everyone into their pjs
and herding them up the stairs
for bedtime stories
and snuggles to sleep
flipping lights, pulling shades, and checking locks as I go.

But then,
when all is quiet,
I tiptoe back downstairs,
steal one of his soft, old t-shirts,
get under the covers,
and, after awhile,
fall asleep in his spot.

Further Away

On By JesseIn Life, Motherhood, Nature, Parenting, Prose, Thoughts, WritingLeave a comment

I’ve been watching from further away these days, although it’s hard. My children are young, but capable, I remind myself, sitting on the guardrail of the bridge and watching, as they jump and slip another step and another down the edge of the creek. I’ve thought it through–the water is very cold, but shallow, and we are close to home. If one (or more) should trip in, all will be well. There may be a scraped knee or palm, there will definitely be muddy clothes and wet boots, but the risk of any serious injuries here is fairly low.

I can hear them discussing how to get to the next big rock . . . whether or not to try balancing across the fallen log whose bark is long gone . . . and I want to tell them to be careful, the log will be slippery . . . and I want to tell them not to step into the water, because it’s cold and they’ll be cold . . . I want to tell them to slow down so they don’t fall and to watch for the moss on the rocks . . .

But I’m too far away (thank God) to say any of that. Staring down into the water as it eddies and flows, I think about frogs and crawdads and the way a hot bath made my cold, red skin prickle when I came in from getting wet in cold weather as a child. There is much to be learned here and it’s all best learned from the creek itself.

The only lesson I want to teach in this moment is that I am over here because they no longer need me over there; that I trust them to make sound decisions and that should things go sideways, I believe in their abilities to get themselves and/or help each other out of any trouble they encounter.

It’s a critical lesson for them, and an often painful one for me. I want to be over there. I want to hold my hands out like I used to when I was showing them how to jump from and land on wet, mossy rocks without slipping. But that was yesterday’s lesson. And I’m not so far away I can’t see they learned it well.

As predicted, they attempt the log and one slips, grabbing the other, who promptly drops a foot into the creek to catch himself. The crying and shouting begins, but still, I keep my place; they know where I am, though none of them have looked my way in awhile. Within minutes, they’ve checked for injuries, apologies are exchanged, and they’ve decided they want to go home, but not just yet.

A few more sticks are thrown, a few more hops from this rock to that, and they’re headed back my way–all a little wet, all a little muddy, and all a little cold (though one much more so than the others). With proud smiles and sure steps they march closer, talking over each other to tell me what they did and what they saw.

As we walk home, I tell them how proud and impressed I am, commend their attempt at the log, and commiserate on the falling in . . . all as if I hadn’t soaked in every moment from my new spot–further away.

Winter Quiet

On By JesseIn Life, Nature, Poetry, Writing1 Comment

I watch the last of Sunday
slip away
behind the trees:
light fading
until there’s only soft edges
in the mostly dark.

Stars appear
like there’s someone out there
flicking them on
one at a time.

And a clear, cold, winter quiet–
beautiful, if a little disturbing,
settles deeply
inside and out.

Spring will come
with it’s warmth and bustle.
This frozen ground will thaw
and what seems dead and empty now,
will overflow with
loud, hungry
life.

But that’s for later.

Tonight,
I stand beneath Orion
and breathe:
grateful for the peace
of nature’s long sleep.

Thinking on my Thirties

On By JesseIn Grief, Life, Love, Motherhood, Prose, The Journey, Thoughts, WritingLeave a comment

This year will mark the end of my thirties and, though I’ve got some months to go, I’ve been thinking over the past, near-decade and gathering up my lessons. When I was heading out of my twenties, I decided that my one word for them would be “big.” I felt big love, made big mistakes, and took big steps toward the life I wanted. My thirties though, my thirties have been . . . humbling.

I’ve been handed my greatest treasures and felt myself nearly crushed by the weight of that responsibility. I’ve failed more often than succeeded at the things I’ve tried. I’ve felt fear and anxiety in ways I never knew I could. And I’ve felt insecurities I thought I’d long ago put to rest. I lost my dogs and my horse and even though they were old and on some level I knew their days would come, I was in no way prepared when it actually happened. I threw every unhappy feeling into a heap in the back corner of my heart because I was too busy with motherhood to sort it out properly. And I learned that however much you set aside, is the exact amount you will have to sort out properly in order to let go and move on.

That said, I also learned how silent, snowy woods can wrap themselves around you in a way that feels understanding without pitying. I learned that what feels impossible can just as suddenly feel possible with sleep, good food, and good friends. I discovered there is a depth to my strength that remains unknown, and that despite the agony of losing what and whom I have loved, I have never once regretted loving, nor have I ever run out of love to give. I know now that I can keep moving even when I feel swallowed whole by my fears. And I have seen that whatever else there is, there is also always something to look forward to, but you do have to lift your eyes to see it.

So I’ll be heading into my forties with my eyes up: knowing the weight of the world but also knowing how to set it down.

What If

On By JesseIn Grief, Life, Motherhood, Prose, The Lipstick Letters, Thoughts, Writing2 Comments

Lately, I’ve been thinking about forgiving myself.

Not for one, particular thing, but rather . . . all of it. Everything. Going all the way back to the very first things I can remember saying or doing that I wish I hadn’t through to now; all of the unkind things I’ve thought about myself, all the hurts I’ve held onto, embarrassments, fears, and insecurities that culminated in what are currently labeled “Regrets” and “Fears” in my heart. My mind swears we can keep the wisdom and let all the feelings go. Still, my heart worries.

I don’t think it would have occurred to me if it weren’t for my children. But lately, when my mind goes too far down dark roads or too quickly shies away from a memory or an opportunity, I think, if it were one of my children thinking these thoughts, what would I want for them? Until they were born, I never knew I could feel such love, nor did I realize how little love and comfort I have offered myself over the years.

The thing about children is that they have an innate wisdom we teach out of them. They do let things go until we teach them to hold on, they do love themselves until we teach them which parts to despise, and they do value themselves, their needs, and their contributions until we teach them to doubt their worth.

Even with all of our love and good intentions, we habitually use shame in an attempt to teach respect. We fill children with our fears instead of encouraging them to try things out, go and explore, develop their competence and, with it, their self-confidence. Our hearts know all about pain and our hearts want to protect our children from ever feeling it.

But what if we let our children teach us? Many times, I have fallen into the pit of treating mistakes like they’re bad and trying to teach my children to avoid the ones I’ve made–passing my worries on to them before they even get a chance to try. What if, by watching them and copying them as carefully as they watch and copy us, we could re-learn how to let things go? How to love and value ourselves without conditions?

I can’t protect them from pain; what they need is resilience. Which, ironically, they appear to be born with!

And lately, I’ve been wondering if I can re-learn it in time for my children to never forget it. I think the first step might be forgiving myself . . .

Photo by Jay Eads

“Perfect” Family Photos

On By JesseIn Life, Motherhood, Prose, Thoughts, Uncategorized3 Comments

We bought suits for the boys seven months ago thinking we’d do family photos in the spring. By the time we actually scheduled photos in November, the sleeves and pant legs were inches too short.

I ordered a red dress three weeks prior to the actual session that wasn’t even shipped until two days after the session took place.

We bought top hats for my man and the boys, but due to sizing issues, they were all mismatched. And the beautiful headbands with pretty green rhinestones I bought for Tennessee hurt her head so she didn’t want to wear them.

I had no earrings to match the dress I ended up wearing.

We meant to get there with ten minutes to get the boys in their shoes and get everyone together, but instead arrived at the exact start time of our fifteen minute appointment.

But I learned a very important lesson from The Family Farmer two years ago when we did our first, family photo session with her. I remember feeling so stressed that day, discarding outfit after outfit, wondering if my kids would cooperate, and worrying the pictures wouldn’t come out. Only to get there and find out all we had to do was show up, relax, and have fun while Shayna took care of the rest. It isn’t what we’re wearing, it’s how we feel about each other and where we are as a family at this moment in time that makes the photos so beautiful and important.

So this year, when I felt stressed or worried the photos wouldn’t come out, I just took a breath, found solutions where I could, took the shot of whiskey my man handed me as we walked out the door, and let the rest go.

You guys . . .

The boys loved their outfits. They’re four and have no idea where sleeves and pant-legs are supposed to fall. Nor do they care about mismatched hats. We threw Tennessee’s headband on a chair off to the side and the show went on. Knowing how my life tends to go, I ordered a back-up dress off Amazon a week before the session and it arrived the day before! I made the earrings I needed by taking an old pair and painting over the peach parts with the same red nail polish I put on my fingers and toes.

We jumped out of the car, threw the boys into their shoes, and had a fun, happy, hilarious thirteen minutes of photo-taking. Then we went and got a Christmas tree before having dinner out complete with root beer floats and foosball. And if you ask my kids what kind of day it was, heck, if you ask ME what kind of day it was, we’d all say it was “perfect.” : )

So buy the cute outfits, do what you can to bring that lovely vision in your mind to life and if it doesn’t go exactly to plan, smile, take a breath, take a shot, and let the rest go. Your family is beautiful, the way you love each other is beautiful, and this is just life as it is in this moment which is exactly what you’ll want to look back on and remember in the years to come.

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

On By JesseIn Life2 Comments

Thanksgiving is the perfect day to share this post because I’m so incredibly grateful I could burst!

For my birthday, a fairy godmother waved her wand over a years-old, Amazon wishlist of mine and suddenly, a room that has been knee-deep with random stuff for nearly seven years now is all cleaned up, cleared out, and being repurposed into an office! With a beautiful desk, a wheelie chair, a lovely sitting area, and everything I need to cross the threshold and get to work.

Here is a photo of me in said office, scrubbing away years of dirt, grime, and self-limiting beliefs . . .

I knew having a space of my own for writing would make it possible for me to do more, but I had NO notion, just how much would change or how quickly. (I’ll share more about all that’s happened as a result of this in later posts.)

I’ve gone from writing on napkin scraps I toss in the glovebox of the car or losing ideas entirely when I can’t find a notebook or pen before the kids need something, to being able to walk into my office and have all of my supplies right there for whatever it is I need to do, whether I have two minutes or two hours. I write so much more now it’s still surreal.

And it’s been more frustrating than satisfying lately to post one poem at a time on topics much too complex to be shared in that way.

I’m telling you all of this to say, I’m working on putting together a couple of collections of poetry, I’m submitting poems to contests, and I’m organizing my ideas in ways I’ve not been able to since . . . well, ever, I think. My goals are expanding and I want to work harder toward being published someday.

So my posts here are going to change. Not stop, mind you, but change. I had originally planned to focus hard on creating a social media presence, but there’s a steep learning curve there, I’ve never had and will never develop the level of consistency required for that, and honestly, I just don’t really want to. lol

What I love best and want to focus on most is what I think I was born for (other than raising my babies) and that’s words–studying them, arranging them, pushing them, and sharing them with as many people as I’m able.

So that’s what I’m going to do going forward and for those of you who know me and love me and worry sometimes, hold on to your hats! And try to think of me as a writer when you’re here. So much of what desperately needs describing and sharing in this world is painful or frightening or lonely or rejected and my writing is often going to be a reflection of that.

I am so thankful for all who have read here, found connections to things I’ve written and let me know, encouraged me, and shared my work. Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Happy Thanksgiving! : )

Motherhood Is Not and Motherhood Is

On By JesseIn Life, Love, Motherhood, Poetry, The Lipstick Letters, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing1 Comment

Motherhood is not the laundry, the cleaning, or the packing of the diaper bag with all the things.
Motherhood is not the dishes, the meals, the grocery lists, the planning ahead for all the things you’ll probably need for whatever it is you’re about to do.
Motherhood is not knowing where everything is, what everyone does and doesn’t like to eat, or what needs to be done to get ready for every activity.
Motherhood is not a veneer of expected selflessness that leads to too few showers, too many messy buns, not enough sleep, not enough time alone, snacking at the counter instead of sitting down for meals, too much coffee to wake up, too much wine to get through the day, and too much melatonin to fall asleep.

Motherhood is the way my soul held theirs until they could hold them on their own.
Motherhood is the way I hold myself firm when they need a rock and pool like a thick, fleece blanket when they need a soft and comforting place to land.
Motherhood is the way I will always always always worry.
Motherhood is the way I love them–regardless and because of everything, so deeply and truly they’ll know real love when they find it again in the people they choose on their own.
Motherhood is the way I am both launch and landing pad from their first steps to my last.
Motherhood is the sacred role I fill with anxious pride–doing my best to explain things here and help my children navigate this confusing, often frightening, beautiful, wild world.

Motherhood is so much more than the overwhelming, never-ending void of tasks that so many women fall into, taking their potential with them. A void made incredibly difficult to escape by the weight of shame, guilt, and so many expectations pulling us back in when we try to drag ourselves out on our own.

We cannot drag ourselves out on our own.