Monday, June 22, 2009

Motherhood Successes

Being a mother of two hyperactive, dependent little boys and also trying to command a home business, I've been thinking of what it means to be a success; a success and a mother.
Let's do the very common, overly done definition -

Success: –noun
1. the favorable or prosperous termination of attempts or endeavors.
2. the attainment of wealth, position, honors, or the like.

Would you agree that most of us think of the latter when thinking of success? I'll admit it. I daydream of the boys having a successful mother they can look up to - a mother who has brought wealth and fame into the home.

My own mother was not what I thought of when I thought of that word, success. She stayed at home with us since my father traveled more often than not, making our lunches and driving us around wherever we were needed. Not much glamor, not much fun. I didn't want that for myself.

But here I am.

So I had to look back. Did I think of my mother as a failure? Certainly not. We all grew up to be healthy, smart adults (relatively speaking, of course). And do I consider myself a failure? Maybe it's too early to tell, but no, I don't. I'm there when they need me, I keep their cute little protruding bellies full, and fill their lives with smiles. But I still have a hard time with the word.

Let's look at these two women.
Photobucket
Family Pictures, Images and Photos

Who is more successful? Quick - don't think about it too hard. That's what I'm here for.

Okay, got your answer? Now let's analyze.

In the first picture, everyone knows who that is. She's rich, she's famous, she's beautiful. Her life is easy, and I'm sure her kids' lives are easy. Ms. Jolie-Pitt has tons of nannies, nurses, maids, etc. to ensure it. And how many kids can she keep happy? As many as the pretty couple can stand.

Now, the second picture. No one knows her. She's poor, and beautiful, but not in the standard Hollywood way. Her life is hard, and her kids are hungry and dirty with no clean water, or even clean clothes. She's by herself - no nannies, no car, no beautiful famous boyfriend.

Mom #1 has made a life for herself, and I have no doubt that she calculates everything so that her family is happy and healthy.

Mom #2 loves her children just as much as #1. She wants the same basic things for them, but she has to work harder for them. Much harder.

So who is more successful? The second mother.

Look at those kids. They are alive and thriving. They eat enough to live despite their poverty. And I bet they even have a great life together. You may not know who she is and she will probably die without fame and fortune. But her kids are healthy and happy. She is a successful mother. She works hard and is probably fighting the same internal battle every mother faces. She asks herself if she's doing enough, if she'll ever get a moment to herself, why she feels guilty for even asking....

After putting myself in her place, I look around this living room that seemed bleak and dull just a few moments ago. My 21 month old smiles at me. I think of my 5 year old happily singing songs at school.

Being a good mother is a success. It may not bring wealth in the form of money, but oh, how wealthy in love and life. To grow children who are thankful - who grow up to be their own success. That, my friends, is what it's all about.

My mother was always there. My father worked hard for what we had, but I believe my mother worked equally hard (if not harder!) to make sure the family stayed in tact, and were clean, full, and happy.

Sit back, slow down, cuddle those squishy wee ones. It's hard being a mother. And we'll explore more of that in the next post. But for now, think deeply on what's been discussed here and love the little "successes" - their smiles and kisses are all the wealth, position, and honor one heart can take.

Monday, February 16, 2009

On Inspiration and Flow

I have gotten several requests for a run-down on the process I use to write. I've decided to post it on one condition - that you understand this isn't any sort of well tested, tried and true method. It's what works for me.
My brain was flooded with thoughts. It became overwhelming as I sat there trying to write as you would read - from start to finish. I would get a fantastic idea and want to hurry to get there... In an order to become more sane, I decided to go with another process.
I made an outline, or at worst a list, of the order in which the book should follow. For Example:
Intro
First Meeting
Drinks with friends
Chance Encounter
Gets job
... you get the idea. I did this all the way through. It made me feel better - like there was a backbone to this new creation.
So then when I had a great idea, or when a piece came to me in a dream, I could write it out and label it with the label it fell under. Yes, it's all over the place. Nothing came to me in order.
But what I then do is piece everything together like a puzzle. I do have to write the transitions from one piece to the other.
Where it stands now, I have about 200 pages written, but about 50 from the start that are continual to the story. Part of the fun is figuring out how to get from one point to the other.
So there you have it - my controlled chaos writing style!

Monday, January 19, 2009

CPSIA and the loss of freedom

It should be my choice where I buy my children's items. What if I don't agree with big business? What if I don't want my children decked out in some popular character? And what if I want to support a stay-at-home mom who is trying to supplement the family income while doing what's best for her children?
What's that you say? I DO have that choice?
Think again.

The CPA has passed a law that all children's items must be tested for lead. While that's great for big businesses (read, WalMart, et. al.), it is devastating to small businesses who cannot afford the testing. Even those who do not sell out of their home will suffer. Less people will be putting money into the economy simply because they don't have the money.

And don't forget that you won't have a choice in where you buy your cute little baby things. Your choices will be dwindled down to Pooh and Elmo.

Environmental issues will be pressed, too. Even with lead being tested, what about all the chemicals used to produce the items in the big businesses. Think about it.

My story - My oldest son sadly inherited the thyroid cancer gene from me, so I have done my best to keep other toxins away from him so that he doesn't have to deal with more problems in his life. He will have surgeries and be on medications for the rest of his life.

Photobucket

If that wasn't bad enough, our youngest was born with an immunity deficiency not yet fully diagnosed. There is an entire sub-class of antibodies he's missing. I struggled with what to do about work. I worked in a fashion design school - clothing construction, pattern drafting, etc. When it appeared he could no longer leave the house without getting sick - forget daycare! - I struggled myself into tears. My sign came when I was let go from my job.

Photobucket

I stay at home with my youngest 24/7, only leaving the house to take the oldest to preschool and the twice monthly trip to the grocery store. We've recently been trying to go to playgroups, which is working out ok.

To supplement the family income - to make up for the loss of my paycheck - I dove deeper into selling my baby items, unaware of the new CPSIA law. I have no other source of personal income. I can't leave the house to work. So where does that leave me? I will switch gears, angrily, wiping away the tears, to men's shirts. It's something I like to do, but not as much as baby items.

My etsy site will dwindle into oblivion until Feb. 9th when it will close. I have lowered the prices in hope to sell what I have listed. http://katrinabelle.etsy.com

But I'm not the only one. Please, please, please, check out other kid's items on http://www.etsy.com to show your support for handmade toys, clothing, etc.

A friend of mine who sells delicious designs for children - http://www.themilkmantees.com - please give them your business before they have to close down.

For more information on this law--

A copy of the actual law as it stands today: http://www.cpsc.gov/cpsia.pdf
The general CPSIA website : http://www.cpsc.gov/about/cpsia/cpsia.html
Standard Operating Procedure for Determining Total Lead : http://www.cpsc.gov/ABOUT/Cpsia/CPSC-CH-E1001-08.pdf
Original CPSIA FAQs http://www.cpsc.gov/about/cpsia/faq/faq.html#educational
Most recent updates to FAQs : http://www.cpsc.gov/about/cpsia/faq/newfaqs.pdf

Save Handmade! BuyHandmade.org

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Fate and Writing

It started a little more than ten years ago when an unnamed event happened in my life. I pulled out my first journal, making each person a character. I had written a few things before then, mostly poetry and songs - I even had one of each published. I liked writing, and this story was inspiring, as I had the same dream for as long as I could remember and here was a way to turn it into real life.

In the summer of 2000, my life took its first unexpexted turn, and it stole any motivation I had to express myself. I put down the pen (yes, I hand-wrote everything) and forgot about it. My life took tumble after tumble - those who know me well have an idea of the corkscrew I was riding, so no need to go there.

In a nutshell (you like that?), my life was not my own for a long time. It was like fighting Fate. What I wanted on one side and the Wheel on the other, pulling at me until I had to give up one side, and Fate won her hand.

But, dear friends, I started to see the surface of the pool I was drowning in. I looked around and wondered What Happened Here? I was scarred, both literally and physically, but I felt strong. Like I could fight Fate again.

And then she came to me. The girl in the dark blue dress who had haunted my dreams so long ago. Her hand brushing along a stone wall in a stone hallway, the only light - candlelight. I can hear her breath as she runs toward something unknown. There's a longing; I feel it everytime. And the dream had always ended with a closed wooden door - the kind with heavy iron hinges and bolts, but this time, the door stood wide open and I gasped awake as she walked through.

Two days later, my writings magically came to me. Physically in my hands. I almost cried at the sight of them. Had Fate herself come to me in the dream?

I dove into it. And I dreamed freely, so unlike me. My fingers found their own way on the keyboard, typing out the visions from the night before. I had not felt so much like myself in years. And the more I wrote, the more I realized it was not Fate who had shown herself, but another version of myself; a side that needed to come out, a side who's story wanted to be told.

This time I will not fight. I will allow Fate to take over without a fight. Maybe she knew what she was doing. Afterall, she led me back to being a stay at home mom so I could kiss my sweet boys all day.

And don't worry, my fans of the needle - I'm still sewing, only now I pause to work on my first novel, Epitropos

EDIT: Shortly after writing this, I grabbed my old yellowed and tattered copy of The Vampire Lestat - the same one I dragged around at the age of 14. The smell of that book is simply delicious. I ran a hot bath and settled in. On the very first page, next to the words, "Here is Lestat" is a handwritten note from the former me. It's a simple note - "p72". I don't remember writing such a thing, but I turned quickly to that page and nestled in between pages 72 and 73 there rested a dried four-leaf clover.
On page 73, the clover had made one paragraph a lime green color - a highlight made naturally over time. And here is what it said:
"'You're the mad one,' I said. 'If you could see yourself, hear your own voice, your music - which of course you play for yourself - you wouldn't see darkness. You'd see an illumination that is all your own. Somber, yes, but light and beauty come together in you in a thousand different patterns.'"
I plan to see myself - to hear my own voice. To make my former self happy.

Friday, December 26, 2008

When life gives you rainy days...

...make cookie dough to share!

Photobucket

We've had a run of yucky rainy days here in Tennessee and the mood in the house was starting to reflect it like a mirror. I had to act quickly, but what to do?
I grabbed the ingredients and set to work. It had to be dairy free to suit Alden, and egg free so we weren't eating salmonella. After a few minutes, viola! We were in cookie dough heaven, moods set free. The boys loved every minute of their utensil-licking time together.

Photobucket
Photobucket

Moral of the story? The easiest way to lighten the hard times is with simple pleasures :)

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Dear Stephanie Meyer

I'm going to start this by saying this: Sometimes I think I don't like you very much. Yeah, that's right. Let me tell you why:
I started reading Anne Rice years and years ago (it's not important to give away my age!) and became obsessed. I am an Aries, afterall, and I live my life in my head - my own personal non-reality. Strange, I know, but the truth. Maybe it's a defense I've built up. Maybe it's just me. Anyhow, I grew out of it. I put Lestat somewhere deep in my brain where he exsists still (sometimes), but I stopped obsessing. I married my love, have my own kids, and started living reality.
Well, ok, so I still don't live in reality - more on that later.
So there was an epidemic. A strong surge I felt coming at me from all sides. Everyone was talking about Twilight and how I HAD to read it. I put it off knowing I haven't gotten through a book in years, even my own (will get to that with the non-reality part later).
I saw it at WalMart of all places. My boys were with me, I was having a poo-poo of a day and thought, heh - why not. Maybe I can get away for a bit in my head. It was like a shiny beacon. "Read me, you know you want to".....
Two days.
Two days the book was finished.
So why does that make me not like you?
1. I feel I am cheating on Lestat, who will forever be my vampire love
2. I did nothing for two days except drag around a tattered book. I ignored everyone and didn't even notice that I forgot to sleep.
3. I am way too old for that!!! It's about high-schoolers. Really.
4. I found myself at WalMart at 7pm racing around trying to find the next book. Desperately. More desparate than I like to admit. When I didn't find it at first, I was so sad. Over a book!!!
5. I am now scared to start the 4th book because I know it's the end.

You. You did this to me!

But there is another reason............
Did you know I've been writing a book, too? I mentioned that I live in my own reality....and to get it all out, I started writing down everything - dreams, thoughts, song lyrics that inspired me. And here's the problem. I'm slow. And the storylines are kinda close. Ah, well. It was for me anyway, right?

So there it is, Ms. Meyer. I hope you're happy with yourself.

But then again, you've given us Edward, right? :)

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Thanksgiving

It's so odd how everything changes. And how quickly time passes.
I remember Thanksgiving meaning something entirely different growing up. It was a time to either travel long distances to meet up with relatives we see every year, or get the house all nice and clean-looking for them to arrive. We'd eat a ton of food, there would be talk of who's been doing what, what grade are you in?, oooo - do you have a boyfriend?, watch a game or two, and then listen to all the men snore. Happy Thanksgiving!
Then around college time, I was thankful to be able to go home to get a load of wonderfully home-cooked food (mostly). By then it was low stress, not many family members anymore. Why? I'm not so sure. Maybe we just thought it was more realxing that way.
And here I am now with TWO kids.... And what does Thanksgiving mean to me? Well, honestly, trying to fix a bunch of food that won't get eaten while fighting the kiddos to actually eat something other than cranberry sauce and stuffing. Tears, screaming (normal dinner routine). Lots of leftovers they won't eat. Bathtime, bedtime. The end.
But when it was all over, I got to thinking about things more deeply. Times are getting harder and I'm sure there are plenty of people who would love to have that kind of fight with their kids. To have so much food you know you're gonna be eating on it for weeks. And suddenly I was filled with so much love. Love and luck. I have a beautiful (semi-healthy) family, and we don't want for anything. How much more can I ask for?
So Happy Thanksgiving. Remember the kids will cry, there will be tears, but there will always be someone who would trade places with you in a heartbeat.