Author: Sara W.

First Friday Finds: You Need A Budget (YNAB)

~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

**When I find a great deal, a fun product, a great activity, or a motivational thought, I like to share it.  That’s the whole purpose of this blog really.  I want to share some insights that I’ve found helpful for living a richer and fuller life.  I thought it might be fun to expand the blog a bit and include some tangible discoveries in my life that have proved fruitful.  For now, I’ll feature these items on the first Friday of every month.  We shall call them First Friday Finds.**

I’m particularly excited to share this little gem, as I finally began to utilize it fully in my life.  It’s a budgeting tool called You Need A Budget (YNAB).

I was first introduced to YNAB by a friend of mine a few years back.  At the time, I had not mentally prepared myself for the daunting task of creating a budget.  I didn’t even know where to start.  In the beginning, I used the tool solely as an opportunity to keep track of the comings and goings of my money.  Sadly, I didn’t even look at the budget portion of the program.  It worked marvelously in keeping track of my checking and creating reports on my spending habits.

It wasn’t until recently that I began taking our finances more seriously.  Perhaps my blog is serving as a motivation even to myself.  I let myself begin.

I knew the premise of the program’s Four-Rule approach to budgeting, but I had yet to watch any of their classes on how to start the budgeting process.  I am happy to report that I got around to watching the Getting Started with YNAB video early last week.  It gave me the umph I needed to try my hand at setting a budget.

I had read bits and pieces of Dave Ramsey’s The Total Money Makeover: A Proven Plan for Financial Fitness.  I knew my husband had to be a part of the budgeting plan.  We sat down the night before pay day hit and hashed out where the money we would be getting HAD to go.  The process was quite painless.  The program does all the work for you.  We were done within the hour.  Lot of good all that procrastinating did me (repeat in sarcastic tone).

The best part is that it’s a livable budget.  You can change it when necessary.  The whole concept makes it less discouraging.  I don’t feel like I’ve failed at budgeting if I overspend in one category.  I just have to be aware that another category is going to lose out when I do so.  Then I easily adjust my budget with YNAB from there.

Add on that they have a mobile app and it makes it even better.  While out shopping, I can quickly look at my phone to see if I have money left in my budget for that item.  It was perfect for doing school supplies shopping this week.  I wasn’t mindlessly stocking my cart.  In fact, I even ended up under budget.  This was especially good since I had budgeted only $5 for another category purchase and ended up spending $7.30.  The establishment I was at only allowed cards to be used for purchases over $5 and all I had was my debit card.  It forced me to buy more to get the item I needed.  This is probably why Dave Ramsey works in cash.  But an unexpected expense got easily worked out with the switch of some money from my under-budget school supplies category.  The best part, I can add all my transactions on the go with the mobile app and it adjusts my budget before I even hit the next store.

I’m so tired of living paycheck to paycheck.  My husband makes good money but through a series of poor decisions, we have let our finances get the best of us.  I feel like this might be our chance of actually getting above water.  It’s changing our way of thinking and spending.  That’s a good sign.  Our willingness to stop doing the habit that’s not working and begin doing something that has been proven to work seems like a step in the right direction.

Check out the YNAB website.  They have a free trial demo.  I already have more money remaining in our checking than I normally would at this time during the pay period cycle.  Imagine how much freedom you could have if you could more readily rid yourself of debt.  Or better yet start making those saving accounts sky-rocket.

The ease of the program has almost made it, do I dare say, fun to budget.

I’m just beginning our journey to being debt-free and I’m excited!  I hope this program offers you the same hope for a healthier financial future.

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Living A Life With Laughter

~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

I truly enjoy hosting friends and family in my home.  I don’t put on a fancy affair.  It’s just Silo Red Cups and Dixie Paper Plates in my home.  Depending on the amount in attendance, we attempt to sit the adults around our dining table.  On that table sit two clear plastic cubes with cards inside, TableTopics Originaland Tabletopics – What Would You Do Edition.  The cards inside have questions on them.  They have so many editions to choose from now.  I prefer the Original questions.  These questions always make for interesting table conversations when we’re hosting.

One of my favorite questions, since it’s the easiest for me to answer is, “What is your favorite noise?”  Laughter.  Laughter is the best noise I’ve ever heard.  There are a lot of beautiful noises in this world, but laughter really is delightfully infectious.  I especially love the laughter of children.  They’re so pure and joyful.  I can’t help but smile, no matter how down I am, when I hear laughter.

The morning my Mom passed away was an incredibly sacred and special moment.  There were many tears and heartache, but there was something I hadn’t expected.  There was laughter.  I laughed that morning.  I laughed more than seemed possible.  As I sat there with my brothers and our spouses, I laughed.  I didn’t find it irreverent either.  My Mom loved to laugh.  She found humor in unexpected places.  Whether it was a too-big-Christmas-tree, a garage sale gone bad, or a refrigerator stuck in a stairwell, she would laugh.  Perhaps that’s why it didn’t seem inappropriate to laugh at such a time.  She would have done the same with us.

“The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache.”
– Marjorie Hinckley in Glimpses into the Life and Heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley

She’s right, it does give me a headache.  Certainly, I’ve cried my fair share of tears in life.  However, I’d like to believe that I have met more moments with laughter than tears.

I was reminded again today of the joy of laughter.  I think it does more than just lighten a mood or brighten a day.  It gives a bit of hope to life.  The laughter on that mournful morning of my Mom’s passing was filled with hope.  A hope that it would all be okay.  We would be able to still find joy in a world that at that moment seemed so unfair.  Something I watched today confirmed that laughter is a symbol of hope in my eyes.

This past Saturday, we had a fire here in town.  You could see it from most anywhere you were in the city limits.  It was that bad.  Shortly after the flames were put out, we received an e-mail informing us that the home on fire was that of a family who attended our church.  The fire started in their living room and took the whole house up in flames with it.  Thankfully, nobody was hurt.

A family of five lived in the home; parents, two teenage daughters, and a young daughter.  The mom took footage of her first time walking through the house to evaluate the damage.  In the video, she walks through the charred remnants of the home and cries as she attempts to explain which “room” she is standing in.  It’s heart-wrenching.  Just before the video comes to an end, I heard something in the back.  It was laughter.  It was the laughter of a young girl.  Innocent laughter.  It brought me hope for the family.  I, obviously, have no idea the devastation this family must be feeling.  It pains me to even comprehend the possibility of losing all my pictures alone.  But then there is that laughter.  An unharmed little daughter is laughing.  There is hope.

I feel fortunate to live a life with laughter.  Sometimes it’s harder to find the humor in life’s setbacks.  When that’s the case, I like to turn to these little gems to brighten my day.  I giggle every single time.

 

 

The greatest noise is laughter.  Live a life filled with it!

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Finding Happiness Amongst Trials

~ Sara W. ~ 2 Comments
This is my boy.  Adorable, right?  His personality matches his infectious smile and gorgeous blue eyes.  This past week he was offering up less smiles and more tears.  He got a stomach bug and was none too happy.  From the looks of it below, my holding out on giving him milk was more devastating to him than the tummy troubles he was facing.

 

Seriously, look at that face.  This is him looking up to me with desperation in his eyes for just a wee bit of milk.  As this is happening, I have this internal dialogue, “Should I give him some?  He just wants some milk.  It probably won’t make THAT much of a difference if he gets a little?  It will give him the comfort he wants.  No, it will only make matters worse.  Must not cave.  I am the adult.  I know what’s best.”

The latter thought is almost comical.  I couldn’t be more clueless.  My husband and I joke about how we thought our parents knew everything when we were kids.  We realized, if they are anything like we are now, they didn’t know much.  However, in this case, I think I may know more than my nearly 18-month old baby.  Milk and stomach bugs don’t play nice together.  I stood firm.

Thinking of this stomach bug and “forced milk fast,” I thought what I have thought many a time as a parent, “This may be awful for a little while, but in the long run I’m doing what’s best for you.”  Shots at the doctor are a perfect example of this conundrum.  I’m sure in my son’s mind, I am a big ol’ mean-o who doesn’t protect him from that woman with a needle.  He screams in pain and for what?  He doesn’t know that I potentially saved him from a life-threatening disease.  He just knows I didn’t protect him from the pain.

Are you seeing where this is headed?

How often are we the 18-month old who just wants milk?  The infant who doesn’t like shots?  The child who hates homework?  The teenager who feels alone?  The college student who is trying to balance school and work?  The broken-hearted?  The victim of a senseless circumstance?  The jobless?  The daughter without a Mom?

Whether you choose to continue the analogy and make my role as a parent similar to that of a Higher Being or not, the situation is the same.  We are meant to endure things that will ultimately lead to our betterment, if we let them.  Certainly we can make choices to avoid such pitfalls in the first place, but oftentimes things just happen.  Pain happens in every form.

I never dreamed of losing my Mom to Ovarian Cancer at such a young age.  While I do enjoy writing, there are no words to express the sorrow I felt, and continue to feel, with the loss of my Mom.  My Mom was intertwined in my daily life and was my best friend.  Her passing affected my life in ways that I never expected.  Those revelations are for another post on another day.

So, how is a toddler unknowingly fasting from milk similar to my grieving process of my Mom?  Both “tragedies” would ultimately be for our betterment.  Of course, it’s so hard to see that when you’re in the middle of it.  Maybe sometimes you don’t see the long term benefits.  I wonder though if we don’t see them because we choose not to see them?

Some good has come from my Mom’s passing.  It seems so shameful to say such a thing.  As if admitting that something positive was gained translates to me being glad my Mom passed away.  Certainly that is not the case.  I yearn for even a moment with my Mom everyday.  But if I choose to only see it as a tragedy with no lessons learned, then I fear I would be wasting my life and my potential to grow.

Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth.  We are happy when we are growing. – William Butler Yeats

My desire is to grow.  To begin.  Fear is such a natural part of me.  Fear of trials has plagued me for years.  I don’t want to fear anymore, I want to grow.  Fear keeps you stagnant.  Faith keeps you moving.

When I think back on the darkest of times in my life, I truly get sick to my stomach.  There are feelings of sorrow and emptiness that I hope I never have to feel again.  However, those moments have taught me lessons that I could not have learned otherwise.  Even more, seeing those trials through and coming out on the other end has brought me a greater sense of hope.

While I am no doctor, I encourage you to ponder your current trials.  Think about what your “forced milk fast” is in your life right now.  As confusing and troubling as it feels in the moment, try to think of the long-term gain that will come from your perseverance in this situation.  Whether you have faith in a Higher Being ultimately knowing your every need, faith in yourself to grow, or both; try to see the silver lining amongst the tarnished circumstance you are facing at this time.

I’m happy to report that after a day and a half of my son not having his drink of choice, he is back to normal and happily drinking his milk again.  Remember the often used Persian proverb, “this too shall pass.”

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Celebrating Differences

~ Sara W. ~ 1 Comment

I spotted this field of wildflowers on my way to a community event last night.  I immediately noticed the sunflower sticking up amongst the flowers.  It seemed to be such a powerful statement in so many ways; standing out above the rest, a ‘lone reed’ (Anybody else hear Frank Navasky’s line from You’ve Got Mail when they hear those words?), or perhaps the idea of different but equal?  The latter was the pressing thought in my head.

Through a variety of situations this past week, I had the chance to contemplate why something being different often gets translated to it being bad.  Surely, the photo above would debunk such thinking.  The wildflowers and the sunflower are different, but they are equal in beauty.

Most of us have been taught about such principles all our lives whether it was in a children’s cartoon, after-school special, or history book.  Heck, before my girls were even of school age they had seen a Strawberry Shortcake movie that made it clear that new kids with different interests doesn’t mean they’re bad people.  Strawberry Shortcake is a reliable source.

Logically, I’d like to believe we all understand the concept.  However, I feel like emotionally sometimes we’re not bringing the message home.  I’m reminded of a test I had to take back at my first Full-time gig after college.  It’s the Strengths Finder Test, originally put out by Gallup.  Now they have a new and improved StrengthsFinder 2.0 book.  In this book, you take a test to uncover your natural talents with the hope of utilizing those talents more in your daily life.  The ultimate goal being to create a more fulfilling life.  As it was explained to me at my company, we are not made up of weaknesses, but rather strengths that are more pronounced in some and less so in others.  The idea that if we understood others strengths, perhaps we would all work together better?

For those looking to dissect me, my Top 5 Strengths at the time, out of a list of 34, were Responsibility, Relator, Input, Belief and WOO (Winning Others Over).  My absolute lowest strength was Competition.  I’m certain my line-up would change if I were to take it now, a decade later.

Keeping these strengths in mind, I reflect on a dear friend back in Southern California; where I lived my entire life up until 8 months ago.  I met this friend seven years ago.  While I enjoyed her company upon first meeting her, I can honestly say we did not “click” right away.  We had much in common, but we also had a lot of differences.  Differences that I guess kept me from nurturing the friendship.  It wasn’t until 3 years after our meeting that she and I grew closer.  I truly believe that the shift came when we acknowledged our differences and embraced our similarities.  Not only did we acknowledge them, we teased each other about them in a loving way.  We celebrated them.

This friend had taken the same Gallup Strengths Finder test and, if I recall, three of my top strengths were at the bottom of her list of strengths and Competition was her top strength.  Had I let our polar opposite personality strengths rule the friendship, I would not be fortunate enough to call her a dear and true friend now.

Let’s think on an even larger scale.  I recently had the opportunity to read Outliers: The Story of Success.  There was an immensely intriguing chapter titled “The Ethnic Theory of Plane Crashes ‘Captain, the weather radar has helped us a lot.”  Yes, the chapter title really is that long.  This particular quote really grabbed me:

“Why are we so squeamish?  Why is the fact that each of us comes from a culture with its own distinctive mix of strengths and weaknesses, tendencies and predispositions, so difficult to acknowledge?  Who we are cannot be separated from where we’re from – and when we ignore that fact, planes crash.”

It truly is a fascinating book, particularly that chapter.  It addresses the impact that our cultural differences have on different aspects of our daily lives.  Acknowledging those differences in a healthy manner, and perhaps incorporating those differences where appropriate, would do us all some good.

I had a flashback this very moment of my first month of marriage.  My husband was in our little apartment kitchen cutting an orange.  To my shock, he was not cutting it the proper way.  I felt the need to inform him of his erroneous ways.  He kindly responded to my remarks with, “Just because I do it differently, doesn’t mean I do it wrong.”  Ironically, I now cut an orange the way he cut it those many years ago.

All these random thoughts aside, the real inspiration for this post was my realization this week that it’s okay to be different.  I knew that on a larger scale, but I don’t think I had comfortably applied it to my individual personality.  It’s tough when people don’t behave or respond to situations the way we would or feel they should.  I’m certain I’ve offended many a person with strengths of my own that were not appreciated by those with a different set of strengths.

A simple example being that one of my top strengths is a Relator, a person who thrives on close intimate relationships.  The Includer strength, someone who looks to draw others in so that they can feel the warmth of the group, was towards the bottom of my list.  I have been the kind recipient of many a sweet Includer, but sadly it is not my natural strength.  I find smaller gatherings more meaningful and fulfilling.  As a result, I don’t always expand the circle as others might.

I’m finding that I’m growing more comfortable with who I am.  It must be one of the perks of maturing.  It’s finally starting to feel okay for my strengths to be what they are instead of comparing myself to the strengths of others.  Different is okay.

As with my friend back in SoCal, whom I miss more than I was prepared for, I hope to find more joy in recognizing differences, incorporating them as appropriate and, above all, celebrating them.

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Can You Get Yourself All Wrong?

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

This past weekend I went to a lake near our new hometown.  I’m not used to such treasures being so close.  I grew up in Southern California.  We had different treasures of our own there.  It is a land of plenty and yet somehow it was missing something I never knew I needed.  This made me think, while I was floating on the lake, can you get yourself all wrong?  Can you discover that something has been missing in your life without ever knowing it was missing in the first place?

I was spoiled as a kid.  I’d like to think I didn’t act spoiled.  I went to Disneyland frequently as a child.  I had an annual pass to Disneyland nearly constantly from thirteen until I was thirty.  I got to spend time in beach houses for a few summers, attend professional sporting events of all kinds, go to concerts, and went shopping more than I even enjoyed.  I truly love where I grew up.  It made for a fun-filled upbringing.

As I grew into adulthood, I learned that my personal favorites of Southern California were the beach, Disneyland, and attending LA Kings hockey games.  Then, after having kids, I realized that the beach started to become a hassle to get to and parking rates were ever-increasing; Disneyland’s ticket prices were sky-rocketing faster than I could keep up; and hockey games in LA required hours of baby-sitting and loads of money for tickets, food, gas and parking.  Crowds and costs started to make those things I loved less special and, honestly, less attainable.

Then this past weekend, I think it finally hit me that I had it all wrong all those years.  I will not deny that the Pacific Coast is breath-taking, Disneyland is magical, and an LA Kings hockey game is thrilling.  But, since I’ve moved from the hustle and bustle, I’ve seen scenery so gorgeous and virtually untouched that it brought me nearly to tears, found that walking through forests and along waterfalls is magical, and learned that floating a river is heavenly.

I grew up believing these simple truths about myself – I am a Disney girl, I don’t like the great outdoors, I’m not athletic, I don’t camp, and I hate bugs.  I got myself all wrong, well, except for the latter.  I truly hate bugs.  While I haven’t let loose quite yet and gone camping, I foresee it happening sooner than I ever even desired in Southern California.  I’ve been out exploring the great outdoors more in the past seven months than my thirty-one years prior combined.

I’m finding a piece of me here that I had hoped I would find but didn’t expect to find out on the lake last Saturday.  I anticipated a slower paced life would do me good and it has.  However, I never imagined that feeling smaller in this great big universe would make me feel fuller inside.  Is this what it feels like to start growing beyond yourself?

I have a dear friend who I was discussing religion with some years ago.  At the time, she described herself as Agnostic, a person who believes the existence of a deity is unknowable.  When discussing Christianity with her, she replied, “I’m just not sure I can believe it after I’ve spent so many years not believing it.”  She didn’t like the idea of the possibility of having spent all those years “wrong.”

I remember feeling pretty sad at the time about her remark.  But there are many of us that are making similar choices daily in regards to other matters, perhaps less important than religion.  I’ve spent years believing that Southern California was the best place to be.  You have everything you can imagine at your fingertips.  What more can you want?  But, what I didn’t realize was that I needed less not more.  Less lines, less prices, less taxes, less traffic, and less materialism.

I truly don’t intend for this post to be anti-Southern California.  I love where I grew up and look forward to many visits to loved ones, beaches, and Disneyland.  I am merely using this an example.

On this day when America celebrates its independence and our individual freedoms, I encourage those reading to practice their freedoms.  We have the freedom to change our minds and, perhaps, change our path.  Are you trying to fit yourself into a mold that you once fit or were put in to at a young age?  Are you afraid to admit you’ve been wrong all these years?

For those out there that have been good about experiencing the many treasures of this world, thanks for setting the example for the rest of us learning to spread our wings.

I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

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Facebook Falsehoods

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

Social Media has taken over most of our lives.  I’m as guilty as the next person.  I only have three friends that I can think of that have made a vow never to get on to Facebook or Instagram.  They don’t even have a blog for me to stalk.  How is a social media stalker, like myself, supposed to keep tabs on my friends’ lives?  Oh yeah, that’s right, we still have phones.  Though it seems as though picking up a phone and talking to someone in real time has become archaic.

Alas, this post isn’t to rant about the lost art of proper communication.  This post is to address the falsehoods that arise from checking Facebook and any other social media for that matter.  The falsehood being the feeling that you are doing nothing while everyone else is doing everything.

I can’t imagine that I am the only victim of this falsehood.  Or rather, I hope I’m not the only victim.  Logically, I have it on good authority that nobody is perfect nor are they living a perfect life free of strife.  However, emotionally, I sometimes feel like my Facebook friends are forever vacationing, those I follow on Pinterest are always doing fun crafts with their kids, and the blogs I read are comprised of families living the perfect life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking for those I “stalk” to post all their dirty laundry.  Quite the contrary.  I want to teach myself to realize that these moments in time that are posted are just that; moments.

Sure everyone seems to be on vacation right now and I’m sitting in a city with gloomy weather this week.  But guess what?  Next week is supposed to be sunny and I have plans to float the river with my family.  And you know what?  I’ll probably post a picture about it.  I won’t post it to rub it in any one’s face that I’m doing something grand and they’re not.  I’ll post it because it’s a fun memory and I want to share it.

So, I’ll talk myself down from my Facebook Falsehood and then I’ll go on to Pinterest.  Oh, Pinterest, why do you taunt me so?

The hardest thing to see on Pinterest, for me, are the millions of crafts and things you can do with your kids.  Each kids craft I see elicits two immediate thoughts: 1) That’s cool, and 2) I’m such a bad Mom.  Without fail, I see some hands on activity done with kids and I automatically think of all the things I am NOT doing for my kids that apparently every other Mom is doing.

I’ve recently realized that I was clicking on crafts that five separate Moms had posted as having done with their kids.  The problem is that I was turning those five separate women into one perfect Mom.  One woman might post a craft that prepares their child for Kindergarten, another has a quiet book they hand-made to keep their children behaved in waiting rooms, another parent will post about making play dough from scratch, another has made a board game that teaches their kids about numbers, and yet another will have posted a meal that has been cut into different shapes to entice their children to eat their vegetables.  Perhaps there is a Mom that has done all of these 5 things.  I’d like to believe she is not doing it all in one day nor everyday.  She is doing it in “moments.”

This happened today.  I let the kids put every clip we owned into my hair and I wore it out in public.  This isn’t going to end up on Pinterest.  It’s certainly not a cute craft that is sweeping the Internet.  However, I imagine it will be something my kids remember.  They were having a blast disowning me in public.  But, in case there was some doubt, I do not do this everyday.  I did it for a moment.
I live a life filled with significant and insignificant moments.  Some days I have the courage to go out looking silly and other days I don’t have the energy to even face the world.  Please know that I am not a woman solely made up of Facebook posts nor are any of the other people you follow.
Do not fall in to the trap of comparing your life of one single person against the combined total of every talent, vacation, success, and virtue of your entire social media list.  You will never win that battle.  Think of the rich blessings you have that aren’t being posted.  Your talents, whether big or small, that are not receiving media attention of any kind.  We have a choice to be grateful.  More important than that, we owe it to ourselves to live in a reality.  Unrealistic comparisons and beliefs of the grandeur of others’ lives sounds nightmarish.
Take a moment and look at the things you DO have going for you in your life.  Sometimes reality can be better than our dreams; sometimes it’s not.  Then, make a point this week to touch base with a loved one outside of a social media and find out how their “reality” is going this week.  You might find yourself more likely to relate to the following quote upon doing so:
Friendship is born at that moment
when one person says to another,
“What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
– C. S. Lewis
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No Excuses, No Explanations

~ Sara W. ~ 2 Comments

I was watching Julie & Julialast night with my husband and I heard the quote, “No Excuses, No Explanations” used at one point.  Sadly, I’ve already forgotten who said it and in what scene.  I had heard mixed reviews on the movie, but I found it rather interesting.  I imagine I had a more personal connection to it since half of the story is about a woman starting her own blog, as I have here.

The quote got me thinking of the concept of not giving excuses nor explanations in life.  I am a woman who will gladly offer up both.  I’m particularly fond of explanations.  I attribute my love for them due to my long-winded nature.  Surely you don’t just want to know that I cannot attend a movie with you this coming weekend, you must know WHY I can’t join you.

My husband is quite the opposite.  Anytime that he has ever called off for work, he always says, “I will not be able to make it in today.”  He never gives an explanation.  As a result, he’s never lied when calling off from work.

COMMERCIAL BREAK: I was once discussing the virtue of honesty with a group of women.  One woman commented how she had called off of work with the reasoning that she was having trouble with her eyes.  Her boss asked her what was wrong with her eyes.  Her response, “I just can’t SEE myself coming in today.”  Honesty at it’s finest.  BACK TO YOUR REGULAR PROGRAMMING.

It doesn’t matter if my husband has been throwing up all night or if he has plans to play with his family all day, he will not be making it in to work that day.  In his eyes, there is no more to tell.  Personally, it drives me mad that he doesn’t explain the situation, especially when it’s a legitimate reason.  I imagine it aggravates the boss as well.  My husband and I could debate the pros and cons of explanations all day long, I’m sure.

However, I would like to believe that all might agree that there really is no good excuse for using an excuse.  Florence Nightingale, a pioneer in Nursing and author of Notes On Nursing, was quoted as saying, “I attribute my success to this – I never gave or took any excuse.”

I’m reminded of my first year of marriage.  Marriage requires a lot of patience, compassion, and forgiveness, amongst other things.  That first year though seemed to require a lot of forgiveness on both of our parts.  It’s tough trying to make two become one.  I suppose this is why I find explanations helpful.  However, my husband brought something to my attention during one of my apologies.  I always coupled my apology with an excuse.

I’m sorry I yelled, but you yelled first.  I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, but I am about to start my period.  I’m sorry I didn’t (fill in the blanks), but I didn’t know you had (fill in the blanks).  The excuses were always there.  He patiently asked me if I could just apologize.  He didn’t need to hear my reasoning or excuses.  All he wanted to know was that I was sorry.

Take the first excuse I wrote.  We discussed that it didn’t matter who raised their voice first, the point was that we shouldn’t raise our voices at each other.  If he raises his, it doesn’t make it okay for me to do so, and vice versa.  As it pertains to my moodiness and impatience before I start menstruating (is this TMI?), his belief is that there should never be an excuse to treat someone poorly.  I believe he’s right.  As crazy as I feel at the time, it doesn’t automatically justify being mean to anyone.

“Never make excuses. Your friends don’t need them and your foes won’t believe them.” – John Wooden in his book Wooden: A Lifetime of Observations and Reflections On and Off the Court

Perfectly put, Mr. Wooden.  Honestly, I’ve improved quite a bit in omitting excuses to my friends or my foes.  It’s the excuses I give myself that are really starting to tick me off.

Take this blog for example.  I’ve had a desire to write about more personal topics for quite some time now.  Thankfully, I had a friend encourage me to do so, even after I had offered up every excuse under the sun.  One of my excuses being that nobody wants to read another blog.  It’s all been written already.  What can I possibly write that hasn’t already been written and, frankly, been written better?  The excuse sounds so true in my head, but really it’s quite comical.

If every writer let that ridiculous excuse stand in their way, not one fresh idea would be written.  Who cares anyway, right?  I don’t have to do this perfectly for it to be enjoyable or fulfilling.  Unfortunately, I have this notion that I have to be perfect at something or it’s really not worth doing.  Why try at all if someone else already does it better?  What a sad way of thinking, huh?  This is one of the many ways that my distorted thinking gets me every time.  I create these lame excuses to convince myself that it’s okay not to try at all.  But it’s not okay.  I’m tired of standing in my own way with a myriad of empty excuses.

Let’s learn to drop the excuses and, if we’re feeling really bold, the explanations.  Let’s take some accountability for our actions.  Let’s offer up sincere apologies.  Let’s try a little harder each day so that excuses aren’t even necessary in the first place.  Let’s try to be understanding about the fact that others are struggling with their own internal excuses.  Let’s believe in our abilities to meet our goals instead of excusing ourselves as to why they’re unachievable.

Let’s begin.

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Six Ways to Get Motivated

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

Let me preface this post by saying that I am not a doctor.  I merely have first-person experience with losing motivation.  Honestly, my desire to avoid cleaning up my house is what is helping me rationalize that this post is more important.  The irony, right?

1.  Refer to Your To-Do List

After I had my firstborn, I had Postpartum Depression (PPD).  I have all sorts of memories and feelings tied to those dark months.  The funny thing is with PPD, or with any depression really, is that it wipes away a piece of your functionality.  Most days I could not function past the daily chores of feeding a screaming baby, changing diapers, and feeding myself.  But it was more than just not functioning, my brain couldn’t even process what it SHOULD be doing or getting done.  It was as though depression had made me dumb.  I was ‘depression dumb’.  Shall we coin this term now?

My husband saw the situation for what it was and knew I needed help.  I was losing ground fast.  I was slowly forgetting how to do basic things, like shower regularly.  At the time, he worked close to home and was able to come home for lunch.  He left in the morning and gave me ONE chore to complete before his return for lunch.  Just one.

We had a baby bottle warmer (you know how it is with your first child, right?).  The water inside was needing to be changed.  My one chore was to dump the water out and fill the cup back up.  I didn’t have to clean it.  I didn’t have to do any special treatment to it.  I had to dump the water out and fill it back up.  Guess what?  I DID IT!  I felt like I had conquered the world.  I was given a task and I completed it.  My husband was so proud of me.  He sincerely congratulated me and I enjoyed the satisfaction of completing a task.

So, what does this have to do with referring to a to-do list or even getting motivated?  One of the largest road blocks I face is battling ‘depression dumb’ (it’s already catching on, isn’t it?).  I get in a funk and my mind goes completely blank on what I should be doing.

I create my To-Do List during those moments when my brain is actively thinking of all the many things that need to get done.  I’m a wife and mother, there is ALWAYS something that needs to be done.  Now with smartphones, I have downloaded a free app called Task List – To Do List.  Since I regularly have my phone on me, it’s easy to update the list when the thought hits me.

It’s even more common that I have my phone on me when I’m avoiding life and getting lost in social medias.  Anyone else out there a victim to the time-thief known as social media?

Those times when I sit there trying to forget all that should be getting done, I pull out the list and get a reminder of all the ways that I can actively engage in my daily life.  I sometimes put the smallest of tasks on there just so that I can have the satisfaction of completing a task.  Because sometimes you need to dump out the water and fill the cup back up and you have some added motivation.

2.  Change of Position

I dread the idea of even having to do this one.  This method of getting motivated is most needed for me when I’ve found myself wanting desperately to escape my downs through sleeping.  The idea is that whatever position you are currently in when you feel yourself slipping deeper into the blues, you change it.

This suggestion was offered up once in a therapy session when I confessed that I was taking ridiculously long naps during the day.  I wasn’t getting anything done and my kids were being baby-sat by the TV.  It breaks my heart thinking about all that I missed during this bout of depression and how neglected my kids must have felt.

My therapist revoked me of my napping rights.  I had to keep moving.  Laying down was feeding the depression.

For others it may mean sitting down and taking a break.  Some people lose sight of a healthy balance when they are constantly running their lives at a break-neck pace.  Perhaps that person feels most down when they don’t have a moment to sit.  Maybe they’re wondering what’s all the rush for and it makes them sad to think they’ve lost site of the quiet moments.  Quiet moments are needed to reset the priorities of our motivations.

Simply put, change your position.

3.  Serve

The past couple of days, I felt the signs of ‘depression dumb’ coming on.  I was quickly losing motivation, functionality, and engagement in my world.  Realizing I was withdrawing, I saw that I needed to reach out to my friends.  Guess what?  It turns out they were having their own struggles and unfinished tasks.

As I found ways to serve these friends, I noticed that my blues were dissipating and my functionality was returning.  I was processing thoughts.  I was useful for a moment or two.  Service is an amazing blessing for all parties involved.  It isn’t always the easiest to perform or even be motivated for in the first place, but it always brings about more good.

A fresh perspective, the joy in knowing you lightened a burden, and the break from the monotony can do wonders for motivating yourself with your own life.

4.  Go for A Walk

You’re probably thinking what I’m thinking, “I’d love to go for a walk, IF I WERE MOTIVATED!”  Agreed.  This suggestion may need to go hand and hand with another suggestion from this list.

As a young girl, my parents would take me on walks at night.  As I grew, the walks continued.  Some of the greatest conversations I have had with my parents were on walks with them.  When I got married, my husband and I would go on long walks too.  I can recall countless times in all of these walks when I started the walk with nothing to say.  By the end of the walks, I felt like I had accomplished world peace.  Thoughts, ideas, hypotheticals, goals, and deep discussions were had on these many walks.

There’s something about getting that blood flowing that opens the mind and motivates the body to follow suit.

5.  Play Music

This suggestion only really works if you enjoy music.  I happen to love music.  I happen to hate cleaning.  But if I mix something I love with something I hate, usually the love wins out.

When my husband and I were first dating, I would ask him what he wanted to go and do.  His response was often the same, “I could be shoveling shit against the tide and it would be fun if I were doing it with you.”  Nothing says romance like a vision of shoveling shit with your mate.  Amazingly though, it was a sweet point that he was trying to get across.

Doing something you hate, doesn’t have to be miserable.  Add something you love into the mix to make the time go by faster.  Adding laughter to a task would also serve as a great motivator for me.  Perhaps that’s why the idea of shoveling shit with my husband sounds splendid.  I know he would have me laughing the whole time.

6.  Grab a Dr. Pepper

When all else fails, grab a soda.  Certainly not advice received from a doctor, hence my disclaimer at the beginning.

In the 1950’s, Dr. Pepper’s slogan was “the friendly Pepper-Upper”.  It certainly is friendly.  I can vouch for that.  When I drink it, I become more friendly.  A friendly Sara is a motivated Sara.  I like to drink my friendliness right into me.

So, there you have it; six ways to get motivated.  Now, in my efforts to motivate myself to clean my home, I am going to combine suggestion 2 and 5 to start making things happen over here in our home.

What gets you motivated?

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Passion

~ Sara W. ~ 2 Comments

The day my husband came home from his first day of Nursing school was one of the happiest moments I had ever seen him.  Truly, his excitement was equal to that of the expressions I saw on his face when our children were born.  I couldn’t believe what a difference one day at school had made.  He had found his niche; his passion.  I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I envied him in that very moment.

The memory of his joy on that day has led me to support him in career choices that weren’t the direction a wife might encourage her husband to go.  Today was the third time that I happily supported my husband in following his passion before following the money.  It’s odd to me how at peace I feel when such a decision is made.

Our family’s future is temporarily less stable than it would have been had he accepted a Nursing Management position.  Yet, here I sit typing about how happy I am that my husband is following his passion.  A happy dad is a happy family.  I’ve heard that term be used for moms in the past.  I believe a happy dad is just as critical to the family unit as a happy mom.

I still envy his level of passion.  I have an invested interest in a lot of things, but I’m not certain I would call it passion.  Can you learn to become more passionate?  I haven’t seen any self-help books on that topic as of yet.  I have seen my fair share on distorted thinking though.  I’m pretty sure envying ones passion and feeling like a failure because you don’t have passion like that is on the list of distorted thoughts.  In fact, I know it is.

We all have our strengths and our weaknesses.  None of us are an all-or-nothing individual.  My husband is passionate.  I admire that.  His passion inspires me, as I’m sure attributes of me might inspire him.

I recently had a discussion with a woman who I look to for guidance and encouragement.  I’ve been open and honest with her about my insecurities and my feelings of inadequacy.  I’ve expressed to her how I feel like I don’t have a talent to share.  She, in her ever positive way, pointed out all the goodness in me.  I responded, quite typically, with all the negative in me.  She then shared with me what seems like such a simple thought but I never processed it, I guess.

She asked me whether or not I would even enjoy those talents that others had.  Take sewing for instance.  I can’t sew for the life of me.  I wish I could.  I am amazed at what people can create with some cloth, thread, and their imagination.  But, truth be told, I don’t enjoy doing it.  So, why be sad that I can’t sew?  Why not nourish the talents I do have and actually enjoy doing?

I imagine that is how I’ll find my passion.  I’ll focus on the things I naturally enjoy and nurture those gifts.  Instead of longing to be a sewer, I’ll leave the sewing to the seamstresses of the world.  I have gifts and talents, whether they be big or small.  Thanks to my friend, I’m learning to embrace those parts of me rather than feeling remorse over what I don’t excel at or enjoy.

And, thanks to my husband, I’m learning how a life of passion is worth its weight in gold.

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Honesty Shared

~ Sara W. ~ Leave a comment

Starting at a young age, I got called “Mom” a lot.  I even recall my own Mom and brothers responding to my remarks with an, “OK, Mom.”  As I grew older, the term would be used amongst friends, then co-workers.  I always took it as a compliment.  I see now that it wasn’t always delivered as such.  Nevertheless, I thought the term implied that I was a natural at being a Mom.  On the day my eldest was born, I learned that Motherhood was not as natural as I had imagined.

Abigail joined our family 6 weeks earlier than her expected arrival.  Just prior to delivery, my nurse came in to inform me that there would be more nurses than usual in the room to prepare for any possible complications, as a result of her premature arrival.  At the time, I thought nothing of how this was not going along with my preconceived idea of having a baby.  I was too scared for any reflection on the scenario.  Before I knew it, I delivered Abby, they checked her out, cleaned her up, let me kiss her cheek, snapped a picture, and they whisked her off to the NICU.  It was one of the most amazing feelings to know I helped bring life into the world.  I had delivered a baby.  I was on cloud nine.  Complete euphoria.

It would be three more days before I held her in my arms.  She was still covered in cords and surrounded with so much padding that it was tough to really hold her close to me.  Postpartum emotions were starting to set in, my body was not healing properly, breast-feeding was completely unsuccessful and I was growing tired of the multiple trips to and from the NICU.  I wanted my baby home.

 

Then she came home.  A few days into her being home, I began to realize that this whole situation had not gone as planned.  I was supposed to deliver a healthy baby girl, they were supposed to clean her up and lay her in my arms, I would then get a picture of that magical moment when the baby looks in her Mom’s eyes and the Mom still has that birth glow, then I would start to breast-feed my baby and she would take to it perfectly.  Motherhood is natural and naturally that’s how things should’ve gone in my eyes.

Yet nothing felt natural.  My daughter was colicky, she had acid reflux, and she didn’t seem to like me very much.  Suddenly, I found myself in the depths of depression.  I realized that Postpartum depression (PPD) had happened to me without me even realizing it.  It snuck in and set up shop.

Addressing the topic of PPD is for another post at another time.  This post is to tell you of an unforgettable conversation I had with a woman about a month after I delivered Abby.  So, I told you all of that, to tell you this…

The conversation is still so vivid that I can see where I’m standing, which way I’m facing, and what the weather was like outside the adjacent window.  The woman was a friend of mine who was a young Mom like me.  I had conveniently hid all of my feelings of sadness to the outside world, as my heart was filled with too much shame over the matter.  We were having small talk about having a baby when she asked me how I was doing.  I must have made some comment hinting to my true feelings.  She shared with me how difficult it was for her when she first had her baby.  She shared that she was jealous that her husband got to go to work and she had to stay home.

It seems like such an uninfluential remark to make about being a new Mom, but she changed my way of thinking in that very moment.  She was basically telling me that it’s not perfect for her.  Up until that point, I had only heard perfect stories.  Since then, I have heard many an imperfect birth story.  The birth of my second child could be added to the imperfect birth story list.  However, at the time, this woman was doing something I had yet to hear.  She was being honest with me about matters that so many women aren’t honest about.

In the hustle of people around us, she ended up having to leave.  I remember so desperately wanting to talk to her more.  I wanted to know that I would be okay.  I wanted to know that what I was feeling didn’t have to be shameful.  I loved and adored my daughter, but why wasn’t the bond that I had envisioned there between us?  I thought maybe this woman might have more answers for me.

I don’t remember the conversation ever getting picked back up later.  All I know is that from that day forward, I started to let some of my real feelings slip out into conversations.  I started to feel less shame.  I got help through medication and didn’t hide that I had done so.  I warned mothers-to-be of the potential of PPD.  I opened myself up to being more vulnerable.

I don’t introduce myself with a list of my short-comings and vices.  However, as people take the time to get to know me, I take the time to share me; the real me.  That’s one of the main reasons that I want to do this blog.  I want to share me.  Someone shared their real feelings with me and it helped get me through a dark time.  My goal is to pay that same gift forward.

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