Making a Life

When I was a little girl I loved Dolly Parton.  She was my idol.  I sang 9 to 5 until my heart was content. One fine summer evening I parked it in front of my grandmother's TV set, turned on HBO and followed Dolly's career on to The Best Little Whore House of Texas.  It might not have been the best message for elementary school, but I adored her.  

She seemed so strong and confident in both films. As if she'd take no shit from anyone.  She had a strut about her, a bold, emblazoned gate that caught everyone's attention.  She is a savvy, business woman.  If you peruse her Wikipedia page, the list of her accomplishments is long.

From time to time when I need a powerful message, I'll google Dolly quotes.  Because she never fails to inspire me.  This month there are four that I find particularly helpful in conquering new goals, staying true to myself, and living life.  

"Don't get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life."

I find this particularly powerful from her because she made quite a living.  "American singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, record producer, actress, author, businesswoman, and philanthropist..." a powerhouse of a woman.  

But something not accurately described at times is her marriage.  This woman made a life with one man for 51 years.  A very private man who didn't want to step out into the limelight with her.  51 years.  Talk about making a life.  Look her up for her philanthropy and the list is nearly as long as her career!  

What women are girls looking up to now?  First, I believe they are looking up to US.  It is on you to show up for your daughter and teach her to love herself, empower herself, make a life, and be kind. If you could use a little motivation to do that for yourself from time to time, I understand (why do you think I'm googling Dolly Parton in the middle of the night?)

So ask yourself, are you making a life?  Here is what I want to hear:  

I'm trying.  When you can say, "yes! I am trying!"  Then you're on the right path.  Maybe trying for you is getting through couples therapy, signing a new lease, setting up doctors appointments, working overtime to save for college, learning a new braid, painting with girlfriends, dancing in your kitchen, traveling the world, chairing that committee, carpooling, paying the bills --- WHATEVER IT IS --- you have to make a life.  YOU CANNOT ALLOW IT TO HAPPEN TO YOU.  You are the main character in this show, and if you will own the role, pull up your big girl pants and take responsibility for all the good, bad, and ugly parts - YOU WILL SHINE.


Can you spell h.y.p.o.c.h.o.n.d.r.i.a.c?

The scariest thing just happened to me.  Well.  Maybe it isn't THE scariest thing.  Everyone is safe, Grandma, don't worry.

The thing is I know this happens to people all of the time.  But for a minute I'm allowing myself a moment of worry.  Which I know I shouldn't do.  But I'm a parent.  Worry is my middle name.  Chalk it up to being a busy, multi-tasking woman.  Chalk it up to being human.  Or....worry.

I work out of my dining room because the office in the basement is lonely and it doesn't afford me the ability to keep a watchful eye on my children.  I set up shop in the dining room and this is where I spend a sound forty three hours of my week.  In the midst of that I also run the household.  Kids up, fed, dressed, teeth, catch the bus, teach a fitness class, and then back to my perch here in the dining room.  The doorbell here and there, then lunch for the little guy, then a call from Boss #1, then conference call with Boss #2.  And so on.  You get the picture.

Tonight, I am switching from mode #1 to mode #2 and getting a sale set up to begin tonight at midnight.  I pull up the email with the CDs for the sale, I quick stop to put meat on the stove to start lasagna for dinner.  Thankful for the no-boil Barillas in the cabinet.  Then I sit back at the computer to run through the email and pull up the sites I'll need to make the sale arrangements.  Check on the meat.  Back to the sale.  Find the email with the pertinent details, hit "print."  Check on the meat.  Add the sauce.  To the printer, no email.  Back to the computer to look at why it did not print.  "Printer is offline".  I click, "print test page".  Go back to the kitchen to move on to the next step with the lasagna, but the sauce isn't ready.  So I turn to go back down to the printer.  I turn the corner toward the office and then it is blank.  Gone.

Why am standing in the hall?

Totally blank.  Then I get a little bit nervous.  Trying to think why did I come down here.  What is down here that I need.  Laundry?  I turn around to go back to the kitchen hoping something there will trigger why I walked down the stairs.  Nothing.  Totally gone.

I check the sauce, sit down at the computer to try and fix the printer and then it hits me.  The test page.  I already printed the test page and that is why I went down the stairs.

I know that this happens to everyone.  I know it happens to me all the time - that oh I forgot my phone minute or the I left my glasses downstairs or forgot to bring the mail in.  But I swear to you tonight it just felt awful.  Like the purpose was totally gone.  Vanished.

And so then I try to calm myself down with logic.  Mel you're running a million directions.  You're mind can only manage so much.  But then it's still there.  That minute when I totally lost it - went totally blank.

I thought writing it down would help me feel better.  But guess what?  It didn't.  I'm going full blown hypochondriac on the blog right now.  People forget things all the time.  Where did that piece of information go?


But first I was an...


Many years before I was The Mama Bird, I was Aunt Sa.  My first niece was born in 1998 - the year before I graduated from college.  She attended my graduation in the sweetest little white dress, with the most darling little curls, barely walking, in her little white shoes.  In two days I will watch her cheer at a Big 10 football game.

Time has flown.

Since then, there have been A BUCKET OF additional nieces and nephews added all of whom I see on a regular basis.  I could tell you little stories that have touched my heart about every single one of them.  But today I want to tell you just one that happened this weekend at my house.

My youngest is 5.  He loves his cousin Bivy.  He wants to be by her side whenever they are together.  At dinner Sunday night I walked into the dining room to see him smiling, sitting next to her.  Then he got up and said, "Bivy, I have to show you something!"  He left the dining room, went to the refrigerator for milk, got a cup out of the cabinet,and then walked back to the entrance of the dining room.  He placed the cup on the floor and looked up at her and said, "Bivy, are you watching?"  Then he poured his own glass of milk.  She said, "Wow, Critter, I can't even do that."

It was totally darling.

But then it got even cuter.  I sat at the table a moment and listened to them talk about the honor of pouring yourself a cup of milk, without spilling it.  Another of my nieces said, "You know what I do, I put the cup near the sink so then if it tips over it is real easy to clean up the mess."  The Happy Critter and Bivy were impressed by her intelligent suggestion.

After everyone left and I was cleaning up the house, that little moment struck me again.  How incredibly sweet it is to be proud of the things we accomplish.  How incredibly ignorant I am for not acknowledging better the small tasks he is checking off his own list every day.  Sometimes the youngest gets the short end of the stick - fewer accolades with everyone else already able to do everything on their own.  This year he has learned to buckle his own seat belt and pour his own glass of milk, and he is so proud of himself he showed off to Bivy.

They really are the sweetest things.  These kids.  Their moments.  Cherish them, mama birds.    


My 2 Cents: Tide's Child Safety Campaign

Last night after I put the kids to bed I snuggled up with the remote.  I came across a 15 second commercial.

(pause for your viewing of 15 second commercial)

I found this commercial disturbing; guys, the container is not the problem.  The product is toxic. Rather than addressing the issue and funding the research necessary to create a safe product, P&G sells toxic products to millions of Americans.

With a little research today I learned Tide embarked on a video challenge in an attempt to address the many household dangers to keep kids safe.  In one video an unattended baby is sitting in a room; the challenge is to spot the eleven risks the child can get to in five seconds.  There are coins left out, a balloon, a fire roaring in the back ground, electrical sockets, an iron, the cord from blinds, unsecured tv, mom's purse, sharp edges of a table, a leaning mirror, and laundry packs.  Tide is likened to items found in a home that could kill a child.

The container is Tide's solution?  

Nope. Create a safe haven for your family by simply shopping smarter and safer.  Buy laundry soap, of course, and store it out of the reach of your kids.  But feel safe and secure knowing your soap is not toxic.  Guess what else?  Your clothes will still be clean!

Look at alternatives for your family and know that you have safer choices.  I'm always happy to share my solution.  Reach out and let's talk!


Little Helpers

As I sliced tomato for BLTs last night, I heard a frantic banging on the front door.  I poked my head around the corner to see the Happy Critter's little eyes peeking through the glass.  He kept banging on the door and started to yell, "MOOOOOMMMMM!"  I opened the door and he said, "Mister's crying!"  I looked outside to see him in the street, bike tipped, holding his knee.

I turned around and The Goose was on my heels.  I said, "Tell Daddy to pull the bacon, please."  I darted to the man down, removed his helmut, and swooped him up grabbing his bike with my free hand.  Then I heard a little voice behind me, "I got the bike, Mom."  The Goose.

I took the boy to the bathroom and cleaned him up.  We talked over how he fell, if this skinned knee was more painful or less painful than his previous injury a few days prior.  I trimmed my nails and he gathered himself.  Then we heard a little voice, "Mom, how's Mister feeling?  The Happy Critter.

It struck me with these little, ordinary events how kind and caring my kids actually are.  When one of them is hurt, or sick, the others actually show thoughtful and loving actions.  They help.

In motherhood there are little details that disappear.  How it happens is simple, there are so many incredibly special moments and stressful moments that my brain can't possibly remember them all. There just is not enough space - motherhood moments should get more brain real estate, but they get muddled up with field trip money reminders and work...so I write it down and pray the internet never fails me.