Dad And Trees and Speaking Up

Dad died three years ago today.  I wrote a piece right after dad died about how I wished I could have connected more with him.  I longed for personal interaction.  I don't remember any conversations or activities that we did together just the two of us.  It felt like a huge void in my life.  I was boy crazy from an early age.  I was that girl that had to have a boyfriend and as I look back, I wish I would have had more respect for myself.  I cringe but am learning to laugh when I watch a sitcom that makes fun of a young woman with "daddy issues." That was me. It is a thing.  I am aware of it now.

I am also aware that I tend to freeze in place and not act even when I know what to do. I don't speak up. I didn't have the confidence. I'm learning.

Months ago at a teenage values seminar at our church that broached sexuality, one of our youth pastors advised dads of girls: pay attention to your girls and hug them.  They need it and it reduces sexual promiscuity.

When George and I were dating, and we talked about having a family,  I remember telling him that if we had girls he had to pay attention to them, talk to them and do things with them.  I said it once and he has obliged my request since they were born.  I now can see (after George pointed it out!) that it came out as a forceful demand on my part.  I don't regret it.  I spoke up.  I am thrilled that the girls connect with him.  It is necessary and needed.

Yet it also brings up sadness as I type.  There will always be the little girl in me that needs her daddy's attention. It took me many years to accept Dad as he was and it wasn't an easy process. I was angry for a long while and then I grieved.  I grieved him before he died and eventually came to a place of acceptance.  I then could appreciate what he did give me.  I know that he loved me but he could not say it out loud.  I admit I have trouble with this myself.  It was much easier to express love with my children when they were younger than it is with grown people.  I have work to do, to practice vulnerability, to speak up.  It's new territory. Dad's form of love was to provide a roof over my head, clothe, feed and educate me.  Education was really important. And I'm grateful for that.  I really see that now.

Dad loved the outdoors.  I remember his very tanned arms.  On the other hand, I'm an A/C girl who likes to write and talk about thoughts and feelings and spirituality and go to yoga.  He was a gardener, hunter and fisher.   Years before he died, he built a cabin on family property that goes back several generations.  He built it for his family to use. He didn't talk about it or tell me, he just did it. Thanks to him, I'm a tree farmer and I enjoy walking with my brother and surveying the land. My kids love to ride the four-wheelers and get their feet wet in the creek and the girls love to kid me about my country roots, but I know they like it too.

My connection to him now is in land and trees.

And as I walk the dogs in my neighborhood on my street,  I found the most ironic display as a reminder.

Do you see it?

The tree is speaking to me.

Namaste.

It Brought Up The Time I Was Called a Happy Moron…

Riley has not played softball, the ONLY sport she likes, in two years.  However this year, there were enough girls interested in middle school to have a school team and we are rebuilding.  There are teams in our league that have girls that play year round, and we are mercifully thankful for the five run rule.  You should hear our cheering section get excited for every pitch that is a strike, every out that is made, and just getting the ball to the right place even as the opponent's runners are stealing bases all day long. This is the process of the players learning to play the game and building a team.

It's early in the season, and of this writing, Riley has been at bat only a few times.  On Monday night, we didn't even make it through the full batting lineup because it was three up and three down and our hour was up after three innings.  Yes, we lost.  On Tuesday night at her first bat, Riley didn't even swing and she was struck out by the pitcher. (Without any movement on her part)

I'm admitting here that it broke my spirit a little.

My mind begin a downward spiral of thought.

"Oh no, this is not good."  "She's going to be so disheartened."  "Was playing softball such a great idea after all?" "Will she want to keep playing?" "Is she any good?"  

The thoughts went downhill so swiftly, I can't believe I didn't fall out of the stands with the momentum.

Negative thinking, much?

The game went on and her second at bat came up.  We were behind the other team a few runs.  Unbeknownst to me, the coach had told her if she didn't swing, he was not going to let her use a bat in the future! On one of the first pitches, she swung and made contact with the ball.  It looked like an intentional bunt, but it wasn't!   The ball went two-thirds of the way down the third base line and stopped.  If it would have kept going it could have rolled out or the third baseman could have nabbed it more easily and gotten a runner out.

But it didn't.

Riley on First Base.

It was beautiful!!  I started cheering for the first time all evening.  I am a natural cheerleader at sporting events (when I go…) but I have been unsure as to whether my near teenager would be pleased with me yelling her name out loud...in public.  I was so elated, I didn't care anymore.  Our team began a hitting roll, Riley scored, as did a few others and we won the game, 8-6.

It was thrilling!

And that brings us to Thursday.   I went to a parenting seminar at school and several of our high school sporting coaches spoke about building character in the student athlete.  Before the presentation, the Middle School principal walked over to me as we had exchanged emails about the game and I told her of Riley's at bat story.  She told me to tell Riley that Hall of Fame baseball players strike out seventy percent of the time.  (ie. Their batting averages are in the three-hundreds.)

Ohhhhhh.  I forgot this fact.

And then the new baseball coach speaks.  He repeated a similar sentiment to what the principal had said about teaching the student athlete how to handle failure because it is going to happen and you have to get back up again.

And then my out of body moment came when he uttered these words:

"We have to teach them to be comfortable feeling uncomfortable."

Holy crap!  Did a baseball coach just say that?? Not what I was expecting.  Have I been dismissing team sports too easily all these years?  This is magnificent!!  This is one of my core areas for growth and I think about it all the time.  (A good portion of America avoids uncomfortable feelings by compulsive drinking, drugs, eating, running, cleaning, hoarding, shopping, and not to mention the devices in our hands or laps, etc. etc.)

As I write this, something is coming up for me (and I didn't know this is where I was going here.)  I didn't get this kind of message from my coach in high school.

There are memories that are burned in that you have that you will never forgot exactly where you were, what it looked like and how you felt.  During practice,  I vividly remember when I was told I was as "useful as a milk pail under a bull" and that I was a "happy moron."  Mortification set in and I wanted to disappear.  I also remember that when I asked the coach to hit another ball to me in the outfield for practice, it was hit so hard burned I couldn't touch it.  I chose not to play softball my senior year, even though I enjoyed the sport because I really didn't want to deal with that anymore.

I wish I would have had a voice back then.

This coach has passed on and I have let it go.  He did the best job he was capable of.  It left a mark though and will always be a soft spot for me.

I'm thrilled that what I heard at the seminar will be the kind of messages that my daughters will hear.   Even though my children are the ones playing, I am learning lessons and appreciating sports again.  You never know when or where or from whom the next aha will come from.

Namaste.

Introducing...Dr. Shefali

Note: The video is smack dab in the middle of Dr. Shefali's nuggets.  You are smart people and can read around it.  This is me accepting my imperfection and I can't get the video to move without a lot of time and effort.

I watched Dr. Shefali Tsabary last night on OWN's Lifeclass.    As she started talking, I was astounded and amazed.   What she was talking about takes my journey of consciousness to another level and THE most important one as a parent.  If you read this blog ever, my mode of operating is to evolve my thinking and new ahas rock my world.  This has to do with my children and their role in my spiritual development.  Dr. Shefali says that our children are hear to evolve us.  I have learned that any body that pushes my buttons can teach me something about myself.  It's not just that they are a pissy person.  They can push me further down my path towards enlightenment.

Here are some of Dr. Shefali's nuggets:

We rarely ever parent from the present, we rarely ever not parent in fear.

The ego is so seductive.  It believes there is only one way to affirm the self.  But it is a fear based way.

Get yourself out of the way of your children and allow them to EMERGE.

How can we tell our children that their best wasn't good enough?  How would you feel if someone you loved told you that? 

These children are so full of expansive spirit and we try to reduce them to one thing: a grade, a sport, etc.

We come from a place of wanting our children to be empowered and complete as possible.  But then we project our fears onto them.

I know who I am - Listen to your child. Don't try to mold them into someone else.

This one I'm not sure if it is from Oprah or Dr. Shefali.  These questions are the ones that I am learning to ask myself when I engage with my children. This is what is on their minds: 

Do you see me? 

Do you hear me?  

Do I matter?

The Puppy Story

Watching a Lifeclass with TD Jakes and Oprah.  It is like being at the best church revival ever AND EVEN I want to say AMEN.  And that is saying a massive amount of HUGE for me to want to be in a fundamental church and listen to his style of speaking.  But what he is saying is so dead on and thoughtful.

He tells a story about a female dog that gets hit and loses use of both of her hind legs. She gives birth to puppies who are perfectly healthy.

The puppies drag themselves because that is what they see their mother doing.  That is what is modeled for them.

They are perfectly healthy.

Oh my.

This speaks volumes to me.

You learn from whom you are surrounded by.  Do you like the message you are receiving?  Do you like the story that you tell yourself about who you are which repeats itself unceasingly day in and day out?  Is this who you authentically are?

Hmmmm.

Amen!

Dancing Past Bedtime

I had a moment this evening.  It was a "I have turned a major corner" moment.

George was off at a work dinner.  The girls plus all of the four legged creatures piled up in the bed.  How did we ever live without a king size bed which can hold the two dogs, two cats with enough space in between for the least amount of skirmishes.  We ate dinner in the bedroom, yes, bedroom watching some of our favorite shows. We love Modern Family, The Middle and throw in a smidge of "Where are They Now Oprah."   Mallory was very excited to "fix" my hair which was a ponytail with a ponytail.  The only fallout was one broken fine china dinner plate and a pile of dirty towels on the floor that had just been washed yesterday.

But the residual fallout just doesn't matter.

These days are going by quickly.  Cue misty eyes.

One is in Middle School, for gosh sakes.

Then we had a clean up period and Mallory volunteered to wash the dishes.  And then...Riley pushed her aside to show her how to do it.

Smelling salts please.

Then it was time for bed.  But I turned Pandora back on and cued Bon Jovi.  It was a sign when "It's My Life" came on.  My favorite Bon Jovi song.  It was 8:15 and usually they are in the bed time by 8pm and I wanted them to stay up a little later and dance with me.

This is not normal behavior for me at all.  All of the really long days of being a stay at home mom (especially before big school or during the summer) popped in my head.  I would never keep them up past their bedtime.  I needed my "me" time so badly.  But not tonight.  We danced a little.  Well Mallory and I did, Riley, the rule follower, was protesting because it was her bedtime.

But, we stayed up a little later and I am recognizing that this girls will not be in my household forever.  I am so blessed.

And I have to start being nicer to George because I will be all alone with him (and the animals) in a few short years!

Tripping Up So I Could Sit Down

I needed a break.

So I tripped unloading groceries and sprained my ankle.  It hurt.  It still hurts.

But this Sunday morning, I am sitting in a house by myself with my foot propped up and a bag of ice and enjoying quiet, stillness and my thoughts.

I SO NEEDED THIS.

I could cry thinking how much I'm delighting in the quiet (except for the occasional dog sounds) even while I'm in pain. Did I unconsciously do this so I would have to sit down?

I don't know.  I know I have to revel in this quiet now because come tomorrow, I am back on duty, full on.  The kids can help though and making them step up, pushes their boundaries of leaning on mom when they could do for themselves.  Interesting to watch, because it tugs at me.  I'm supposed to take care of them.  But as they mature, they can start taking care of their own needs, which is the goal of parenting.

Well, time to go revel in the quiet again, before it's over.

I Always Think That I'm The One Teaching My Kids But...

For the longest time, she hesitated to sign up for the pep squad.  I, "the old cheerleader," had been hoping for a few years that she would be interested in cheerleading as well.  I felt a very strong tug when I saw a group of girls practicing together or when we attended a high school game.  It was a deep yearning that I couldn't let go.

What is this deep yearning really about...

Just because I enjoyed being a cheerleader doesn't mean she would.  She is not me and she has her own interests.  But she would bring up pep squad from time to time when the other girls talked about it.  The two of us would discuss the pros and cons and where she stood.

And during those talks I learned to let my desire for her go.  Instead of me teaching her something, I listened to her talk about what she wanted and I learned something! 

It's very important to follow your own dreams.

The extended "join the pep squad" deadline was upon us, and she brought it up again, which surprised me because I had let it go and thought she had ruled it out.  Although cheerleading is a sport - I would love for her to be on the field playing the sport, but it's her choice.  So I requested the final schedule to see what the exact time commitment would be as it was a major concern for my academic daughter.  (Woo Hoo on that concern!)

At the very final opportunity to join, I sensed a desire on her part but she was still hesitant. This isn't about me.  Hmmm.  What do I do?  Since she only had one other activity going on during the week, I encouraged her to try.  She seemed to need the push to get out of her comfort zone.  

So we ended up at our first game last night. It was very exciting to see the smile on her face having fun.  This may be her only time with a cheerleader uniform on (well, when hers comes in because we signed up so late!) and I'm okay with that.  I may grieve it a little when the time comes but I want her to be who she authentically is and to follow her own interests because that is where her heart is.  And I need to pursue those things where my heart lies and get out of my comfort zone.

The game was a classic "agony of defeat" kind of night.  The other team scored on their first possession and kept going.   Our fifth and sixth grade boys worked really hard but the end score of 20-6 was not in our favor.   But let me tell you that "6" was SO exciting!!  It brought out the old cheerleader in me.  I stood and screamed (and stopped chatting) when I realized that we were close to the goal line!  It was a little deja vu and fun!

You don't have to have a uniform on to be a cheerleader.

The Wholehearted Parenting Manifesto by Brene Brown

I feel giddy that I found this manifesto this morning and I was absolutely wanting to jump up and down when I read it.  This is from Brene Brown and it says so much of what I am absolutely trying to do with my children and for myself!  You first have to love yourself wholeheartedly before you can share that love with your children (and everyone else!)   This is fantastic!  I wish I could make it a bigger font but this is as large as I could get it.