Crazy Sh*t

It's all about going crazy!

I think I'm crazy for taking on a night class on top of my regular insanity.

I have a crazy dream of having an English degree.

I'm crazy (and so is my boss) for working at home with a toddler underfoot.

I have a crazy dream of being published. Not articles or online, but of physically holding a copy of a book with my name on the cover.

I am crazy enough to believe that I can add writing time to the night class and the regular insanity. 

I have a crazy belief that I could be a career student, if I were ever rich enough to pay for it.

I had a crazy excitement to meet someone who has completed in her life all the things I aspire to.

Yup. Crazy.

I will not name her, because she is still remarkable in her own way, but she scared me. 

I fell in love with her excitement about the first book being published. Her joy about how many people turned out to her book launch. How it 'made the solitary work' worthwhile.

She said things that I have thought. About how some ideas just play around in your mind, back and forth, sometimes months or years. Just screaming to get put on paper.  You want to think it and rethink it and polish it before you put pen to paper.

She said that's wrong. And she's right.

She talked about how writing, just writing, is very important. Once those ideas are out of your head, you can work with them. You can edit, revise, change.... whatever you need to do. And for as long as you need to.

She inspired me in minutes to keep writing. (Which I have been. Small steps, but a minimum goal of 3000 words per week on my book.) 

And then.... she kept talking.

and talking....

......and talking....

In a normal world, I'd have been rapt. I would have listened with awe to the words of someone who has been where I want to go.

But, sadly, this was my class. And not at all her purpose for being there. She was jacked on (hopefully) caffeine. Hygiene was ... weak. She bounced from topic to topic, shamelessly mentioning her new book every five or ten minutes for 2 hours.

Her speech was too fast and too off-topic. She was there to help us. To spend a few minutes one on one reviewing our current essay projects. Offer guidance or suggestions. But she didn't do any of it.

On my way home, I could only shake my head.

Is writing such a solitary profession that it makes one forget how to socialize? Is the excitement over publishing going to make me self-promote, even when it's not appropriate? Is it likely that I too will forget to shower? Will I lose the ability to read instructions because my mind is full of fiction? 

I know I'm not her. Perhaps she's having a rough week, or something was just off today for her. I started out wanting to go find her book. But then she kept talking. I'm sure it's lovely, but I'm so turned off.

I guess it's good to see a negative side of my goals. Perhaps, this was a test of my spirit. A test to show me the dark side of dreams, and see if I'm brave enough to move forward.

But then again, she's just a different kind of crazy than I am. 

So I should be good.

Have you ever met someone who has lived your dreams and been disappointed? Or perhaps you were fortunate that they inspired you?  Have you felt tested like this? 

Tell me your stories.

I'm So Emotional

It's been an interesting week. Nothing really different has happened, at least not around me, but it feels like I have hit every possible corner of this emotional maze.

It started Tuesday, when I sat with my teacher to review my intro paragraph for an essay assignment. It was meant to be a time for discussion, for her to help me craft my thesis and tighten it up. I waited for my name to be called, and cautiously stepped up to her. "I apologize," I said, "I had all my notes prepared but I didn't have time to write the paragraph at home.  To be honest, I kind of scribbled this down in the first few minutes of class." I was so embarrassed. I don't do that! I always have my homework done. It's one of my goals in this class.

She picked it up and read it. About half way through she started saying "Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Good." She placed a big check mark on the side and a smiley face below that. That was all. Really? I started to swell with pride right there. Not because I'd pulled that out of my ass in the first few minutes of class, but because I really knew what I wanted to say with this essay and my understanding of my thesis made it come together almost effortlessly. And also because the hours of research I'd put in before determining my thesis had paid off. At least this far.

Wednesday, I realized that I have an opportunity to be part of a webinar for work. Thursday at 6 pm. Damn. My class starts at 6:30. I can't have both. I spiraled through a range of emotions. Frustration because I know I'm not doing what I really want to do, even though the job I have provides me plenty of opportunity to grow as well as flexibility to pursue these things I want to do outside of work. Then anger, because I made myself a promise that nothing would come between me and this class. It is my commitment to myself. A sick child is one thing, but an after-hours business meeting? I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I'm a little disappointed, but at the same time excited, that I've chosen the webinar over school. But I have many reasons to do it this way and also have arranged things for school so I am not going to miss anything. I've got great interest in the topic of the webinar, so I'm eager to be a part of it. It's still a bittersweet feeling, I let myself down. Sure, everyone else understands my situation, but I don't want to. 

The mellow feeling led me to escape. I jumped in and finished the book I was reading. As usual with a really good story, I had an hour or so of harsh adjustment back to reality. One of the reasons I want to write is to escape to that world. Writing it means I can live in it longer, really get to know the story and the characters, and in the end I won't have those lingering questions about what might have happened. I can decide. It's MY story.

Ahhhh... my story. My dream is just right there, waiting for me to start. Well, I have started some of it. Then I got hit with a really big dose of fear. Yes, fear really does play a strong role in our lives. I have this completely irrational fear that too much of myself will fall into my writing. That too much will mirror my own life. And if I write something, some conflict or disaster, in my own words... somehow, it will affect my real life.  I know it's irrational. It's not like I can write the future.  Just, sometimes, accepting a fear and burying it might open you up to it. Or blur your consciousness, just enough that you don't notice signs that you might normally.

So, if I write about a child that is sick, am I opening the door to my own getting sick? What if a husband leaves? What if someone dies? What if? What if?

I know that it is completely unreasonable to feel this way. The reality of it is simple and I can't predict the future. You might argue that fictional characters that I've completely made up can not alter the lives of those around me. But I think every writer has some hint of someone they know in all the people they create. Even if it's just someone you see in passing, walking down the street, who makes an impact or creates an inspiration... It's still connected to your real life.

I will get past this. And if I wrote about something that did happen later in my own life, I would know it was coincidence. I don't stop writing because of it. I just don't show anyone what I've written. And then it haunts me. Knowing it won't ever help me get anywhere if no one sees it, but also fearing what might happen if I set those words free.

Sooner or late, I won't have this choice. I will have to let those words go, or they will sit inside me and drive me insane. 

Today, as I sit watching my poor little Angel Baby sniffling while she's playing quietly, I am filled with a sense of calm and control. She's not feeling well again today and I have nothing I can do to make it better.

But there is something positive in all of this.

~The choices I've made for school and work and home have led me to this point where I can be here with her when she's sick and needs me.

~The choice to go back to school at 33 will send a message to my kids (and everyone around me) that I BELIEVE IN DREAMS. I refuse to give up on my own and I am actively going to make things happen.  If you want something bad enough, you have to work hard to get it. And if you work hard for something you want so desperately, things will fall into place to help you succeed.

~Spending time in class that would normally be given to my family has several benefits.

1. Our time together holds a stronger value, because we have less.

2. My relationships with my family are stronger because we use our time better.

3. I have Wendy time. Yep, just for me, all by myself. Which makes me feel fantastic! No depression holding me down, I feel rested and recharged no matter how draining or hard my class might be.

So, sadness, anger, loneliness, pride, embarrassment, all of it, means nothing. They are moments that pass by, like the shadows cast by the clouds as they float past us. I will feel each feeling and let it go in the wind. I will never stop moving. 

And I will not let fear stop me.

It Can Wait

Those dishes by the sink?  I'll do them later. Right now I have kids to snuggle.

The toys on the floor? We're not done playing yet.

The laundry piling up by the washer? It will still be there tomorrow. The Angel Baby is trying to sleep. This is the only time she LOOKS like an angel.

It's hard to change. I used to be worried about what everyone thought. What everyone wanted from me. I'm not anymore. I'm doing what I want. Sure, I want clean dishes eventually, but not this minute. It will get done, just not yet. I used to worry that dinner wouldn't be on time. That someone would laugh at me (or complain) if the clothes got wrinkled in the dryer.

I used to worry about everything. I still do, I just don't let it get the best of me.

At some point, it became exceptionally clear that I was not living for me, but for everyone else. And now I can see that most of the expectations I was trying to meet, were not even realistic. There are things that we all like to see get done, but I was so frantically trying to please everyone at once that I forgot what was really important.

And then I crashed. I stopped doing it all. I just couldn't figure out where to start or who to please first. I did nothing beyond the necessary functions of life.

Not anymore.

That's not for me anymore.

I started something small. I started slow. I started to invest in myself. For a while, it was just getting myself to bed at a decent time. Then, spending time reading with Art. Talking with Macboy. Playing with Angel Baby. None of it because I felt I had to, but because I wanted to. I missed those kinds of things. 

I stopped beating myself up over how often I made it to the gym, or what I was eating that I shouldn't have. I started taking the stairs at school, parking farther away when I went out. I started playing in the yard. I bought a bike. 

I went to SCHOOL. I'm working for something I WANT. I'm living for Wendy.  Sure, the kids place demands on me and my time. My job does too. Being married to a trucker has it's own share of work. I'm still doing those things that I did before but I am making the choice to not stress over them.

I don't have to spend hours doing laundry right NOW. Yes, it has to get done, but do I have to interrupt my child to do it? No. it can wait a few minutes. Or an hour. Or even a day.

I have fleeting moments of stress and panic over these things, but now instead of letting them eat me alive, I am purposefully letting them go. I am aware of my self, and self is not something I'm overly familiar with. As I step forward and make changes, I am seeing so many signs that this is right. Everything is pointing in the direction I was aiming. 

Each small accomplishment presents another choice. Each choice leads to another accomplishment. I'm enjoying life and not looking for failure. I'm seeing sunshine everywhere. I'm feeling pride in myself. I was wearing myself out, overthinking every little thing. I was burying myself in the dark and heaping unnecessary stress on my soul.

 

So, I let the stress go. 

It can wait.

WWE - Not Just For Wednesdays

I love camping. I don't really enjoy the packing or unpacking parts, especially since our tent trailer bit the bullet last year. I like tents, but I sure don't like losing all my storage.  Once we get out there and get settled, get the fire going and start relaxing, camping is one of the best breaks I can think of.

The only holidays we really take during the year are around Victoria Day and our anniversary. We go on other weekends too, but those are the ones we usually take extra days off for. We are not huge travelers. Maybe when the kids are bigger, but not yet.

We found a nice place last year, close to home and great for ATV's. I really like it there. Most of the places we've camped are so out of the way that we don't even have an option for cell service or anything else, but this one is just close enough that we do have service.  And yet, we still do not use it.  The only technology used over the weekend was the music on the iPod. (I am discounting the use of the iPad, it was only used in the bathroom. We have a child with encopresis. When it comes to that, I do what I gotta do to keep this kid regular.)

The cell phone stayed in the vehicle. I did look at the time on it a few times, but not much. For the most part if someone asked what time it was I just asked if they were hungry. Usually were. That's how you know what time it is when you're camping. "Oh, you're hungry again? Must be lunchtime."

I spend a lot of time through the week on my laptop. I watch the Angel Baby play behind the screen. Earlier this week, 4 of us were plugged in to something and Macboy said "Hey, I feel kind of left out here!" It happens. We live in a digital world. Without the internet, I wouldn't have the job that I have and couldn't be at home. But it is too consuming. Imagine going back a decade or two where the TV began to take over. That's actually not sounding so bad now.

When I take a day off, I usually still have email to check or blog posts to write or messages to return on Facebook.

BUT

For four days, I did not look at email. I did not answer my phone. I played in the dirt with Angel Baby. Couple plastic spoons and some cars go a long way. The kids rode bikes and played games. We made S'mores, did all the awesome camping things and came home smelling like the fire! The kids played on air mattresses in the tents. Everyone talked and was listened to.

I learned a few things about what is important to my kids. I learned that consistency in anything makes a difference in our kids. My boys were able to find signs at the campground from the last time we'd been there. It was familiar and comfortable. It was exciting to them, to see that they really do leave a mark wherever they go.

It was an excellent weekend. I almost hated to come back to reality. But here I am.

This week, we have locked up the iPods and DS's and controllers from the video games. We are detoxing. No one will get the games back until Friday. I will be turning off everything as well when the kids are at home. I do have a few commitments online, but will do my best to have those things completed before the kids get home.  This is not as extreme as our normal WWE as I am not eliminating all electronics. We will have the computer for schoolwork and the TV is not banned. It's the devices that pull us all in different directions. The devices that the kids are so hooked on that I have to check their rooms 4 times after bedtime to make sure they are shut off and put away.

I hope to see some positive attitudes come back into this house. It has been proven in our house that disconnecting helps us connect and I look forward to this entire week. I will post short updates on facebook when I can, please join me on Busy Mama's page, but I lead best when I lead by example!

May Has Been A Blur!

I have gone through a variety of phases with this blog. I have gone overboard trying to post often, I have had stretches where I only wrote the funny moments. I have had times where the dark side of my mind prevails and I write the painful thoughts that exist in my head.

I had times where I was super concerned about numbers and growth and built up a facebook page and a following on Twitter. Then I got overly addicted to Twitter!  I have posted regularly for a while and then waited a month or more between posts. And, I have stopped writing on my other page entirely.

And yet, many of you stick around anyway.  

Thank you for that.

So far, the Trucker has not hauled me off to an insane asylum since I've jumped into a night class on top of the too many things I already do. And at the same time, my job took a big change in direction so I've got a big learning curve there too. And then I decided to quit smoking too. I think we're managing okay, but likely because we all know that it's not going to last forever. This course will be done in July and then I have time to think about what I'm doing again!

I'm pleased with the marks I'm getting so far in my class. It's reassuring, last time I took this course it didn't go so well. I think the teacher makes a big difference, no matter what you're learning. Well, that and I have a lot more experience under my belt, not to mention motivation. I mean really, I PAID for this! I'm not one to waste money.

Honestly, things could definitely be improved. It is truly the 'temporary' side of this that is getting my family through. We are all tired and living outside our comfort zone. It is taking a toll, we are a much crankier bunch lately. There is more arguing going on and whining and complaining..... Oh, it's frustrating.

Maybe I should quit doing it.

Angel Baby is adjusting well, except Wednesdays. I leave for class Tuesday after dinner and don't see her again until it's creeping up on lunch time Wednesday. She clings to me much of the day.  My boys are doing okay. They are not really helping out more, but they are not making things more difficult for Dad. 

The Trucker... I'm not so sure how he's dealing with this. I have little sympathy for him. Most Dad's have to be more involved in the home life. I think it's good for him to do a little more. (Boy do I mean little) There are many things I'd love for him to take over (like dinner on my school nights) but after all, this is my Trucker, he's not going to suddenly be the Husband and Dad of the Year. He is still a trucker working crappy trucker hours. I'm just grateful he's not refusing. Or falling asleep before the kids.  

Well... there's my checkin. I'm still alive. Can't drop dead if I never stop moving. If you wonder what I'm doing when I'm not running in circles, I'm spending time with the important things in my life. I'm enjoying the moments and going Hands Free. You should try it. If you don't know how... my friend Rachel can show you. So while you're on Facebook liking my page, you can jump over to hers too. Join this great revolution and embrace the moments that matter.

Got it? Good. See you soon!