Making My Way to the Water's Edge

It has been ages since I have written and honestly that just happens sometimes. I am very guilty of letting life wash over me like a giant wave, helpless against its strength and weight only to resurface many months later with a feeling that only a small amount of time has passed even though it has been significantly longer. 

I have felt like that a lot lately… Waves of work, anxiety, more work and daily stuff have been knocking me down more and more over the last few months as I race back and forth from job to job to home to dinner, to bath time to my computer…. In an attempt to steady myself, I have been keeping my body rigid and gripping the sands of time with my toes, but it’s only made it worse. Fighting the flow only makes the waves crash into me without care or tenderness. And yet I continue to dig in deeper, planting my feet, grasping at the air and just skimming past the sensation of control. 

And as I look up to gaze at the horizon, I see the people I love, just out of reach. And I know if I simply walk out of the water, I can join them. But I am caught in the current of doing it all and being it all—and telling myself it’s best for them, that I am doing it "for them." And yes, I do some things for them, but is it what they need or want from me? Spending time together is the best thing I can “do” for them, and for me, I know that. But when you’re swimming against the tide, the thought of slowing down can feel like defeat, not reprieve.

All the while I press on, time slipping by like the water’s wake behind me. One day I'm taking the back to school pics and a minute later they are stepping up to the next grade and I think but how is that possible? How much time has passed? A month? A summer? A year? But it’s undeniable, my kids are taller and I have more gray hair… And so, it’s time to make my way toward land. 

I know these next few steps to shore may be the hardest I have taken in a while, but I know they are essential. Just like I know that one day the waves of my life will lift me up and let me float to surface in the sunshine. 

We Ate Bugs & We Liked It

After listening to a podcast all about sustainable foods, we HAD to EAT BUGS!

Yup you read that right! When we heard that crickets have 2x the protein of beef, 3x more iron than spinach, and more fiber than beans and peas, we ordered up some Chirp Chips! You see, we are always trying to get more protein into our kiddos, especially Liam {his medication decreases his appetite, so any chance we get, we up his intake}, so why not get them to snack on bugs!

The day our shipment arrived we gathered around the bags, Sea Salt, BBQ and Cheddar, and nervously eyed the packaging which read: One Cricket Per Chip... AHHHHH Did you catch that? I said ONE CRICKET PER CHIP!!

We all looked at each other, took a chip and it was love at first bite! They taste like yummy corn chips. The BBQ is a family favorite but I LOVED the Sea Salt. And hey to produce the same amount of protein, it uses 1000x less water than beef and 10x less water than soy. Plus, it's a complete protein with all essential amino acids and keeps you fuller for longer. So for us, it's all good to eat some bugs. In fact, we like them so much we are going to order some Cricket Protein!

For the record, this is not an endorsement. I just thought you'd get kick out of it and hey maybe even order up some crickets for yourself. {Although if the Chirps folks feel like sending us some chips, we wouldn't turn them way!}

Do What You Love

Something I have been struggling with lately is purpose. I want my time here to matter, so I have been giving a lot of thought to it. And it is very elusive for me, the closer I think I am to unearthing my calling, it remains just out of reach. So I have been listening to Eckard Tollee, Brene Brown and a series of incredible podcasts, but I then a new teacher showed up in the strangest of places.

Driving Liam to rehearsal last week we drove past a building with a huge for sale sign. I said, "woah look, that building is for sale, I wonder what will happen to it." And Liam replied, "you should buy it and open a business."  Half laughing, I started to turn up the music and end the conversation but something stopped me and instead I asked, "what kind of business would I have? What should I be doing?" And he simply said, "do what you love. That's all."

A lump formed in my throat and I couldn't really speak because he zeroed in immediately on what all of these very famous people and spiritual teachers I had been listening to have said: to find your purpose look at what you love. But when I try, I encounter a block. And that block is so real to me that I can see, feel its smooth texture and its palpable frustration. But I also sense that when I reach the top of this next spiral of life, I will be able to get a glimpse over the block and see it for the first time, its warm light shining over the peak.

Thankfully I didn't need to say anything because Liam continued, "you love music mom. You could teach again like you did at Tiny Tunes. You could sing all day and you'd be so happy." I said, "maybe. I do love singing and I love teaching." And suddenly he was on fire, "oh wait! What if we opened The Mumford Diner! We could have a special sandwich made with waffles and egg and bacon and call it the "Mumford" and Grammy could make her special chocolate and blueberry pancakes."

And he went on and on and on.... he knew the color of the walls, he saw the artwork hanging, what the menus looked like, and how happy we would make people--and how we would sing as we brought them to the tables! He could taste the food, hear the music, the laughter and feel the connection and love. And through his eyes, I experienced it too... it was like magic. 

I have read a lot about visualization and how powerful it can be when you want to manifest something, but I have never been able to accomplish it or witness it. It left me inspired, empowered and in awe of this kid's ability to let his imagination take flight at a moment's notice. 

On the advice of my friend Michelle, I am going to start to keep a joy journal. When I experience it, I am going to write it down or track it in my phone, then in a few months I can look back and see if there is an emerging pattern. After all, seeing is believing...

But I remain grateful for the 8-year-old who set my heart ablaze with his pure insight, because it is through the eyes of a child that honesty can truly be seen.

Small Steps, Big Love

Like most everyone, my heart was broken last week... It gave me pause to think about how small actions can really save lives. And then I stumbled upon this Momastery blog, which is now being picked up by bigger outlets. It tells the story of one teacher's technique to see how children are authentically relating to each other. 

The quiet brilliance of this teacher really resonated with me, and prompted some reflection on the experiences we have had with our own children. We are lucky to live in a school district where we have seen teachers go above and beyond to help our boys. As most of you know, both our kiddos are on IEPs (Individual Education Plans) and part of those plans is monitoring their placement on a bullying watch list. Now, I know some of you out there will think the bullying list is ridiculous, but it is an important piece of our son's plan--he is very susceptible to being bullied and by being on this list has had some personal growth that may not have happened if he were not on it. 

Because these lists are at the forefront of teachers' minds, they look at the interactions between students through a lens of acceptance and kindness, encouraging empathy and understanding. One day my son was playing with another child and that student wasn't treating him well. After recess his teacher noticed he was a little off and with some prompting was able to learn what happened. She then asked him what his plan was to make the situation better, he answered, "whatever he wants me to do. I will do anything to be his friend." As a mom my heart broke into a thousand pieces when I heard that, but I give credit to his teacher who said, "we need a better plan."

It was through this interaction that my son learned what it means to be a good friend, that compromising yourself isn't healthy and that talking out our problems with each other is key to healing and growth. This was a big, big, big deal for our family and helped us frame future conversations with both kids. And I can't help but think about how these small moments could easily go unnoticed, easily get glossed over "as kids will be kids." I believe they could be the key to unlocking a child's ability to approach situations and peer interactions without jumping to frustration, anger and bitterness.

There is so much that needs to change and hopefully will. But I hope that these stories, about a teacher who simply asks where her students want to sit or our child's teacher who validated his self-worth when he needed it, will continue to surface and build momentum for proactively helping our children, nurturing social and emotional learning and cultivating positivity and mindfulness. 

Sometimes all it takes is a moment to change someone's life.

Bedtime

"Why are you taking a picture of me?"

"I want to remember this."

"Me too."

10 minutes earlier.... 

He is crying for me. He hasn't done that in a long time. I was getting my coat on to go pick up his brother but I stop and look up at the saddest face in the world. Fresh from the tub, hair all crazy and I ask Jesse if he can get Liam so I can stay. 

He reaches up and out for me, "Mommy, I just need you." I scoop him up grateful for his warmth and how tightly he holds on. I don't know why he needs me, but I doesn't matter.

As we get ready for books we notice a lady bug on the wall. 

"The lady bug is so small. He needs someone to watch over him and protect him, like a parent, like you help me. I will be his parent, I will love him and protect him, ok?"

And I can't speak. His kindness and empathy radiates. My heart is so full. And in a flash it feels like it is being crushed under the weight of experience. How long do I have for moments like this? As he gets older, I know he will still be affectionate, but it will be different. Not good, not bad, just different. I yearn to hold on to this five-year-old beauty, but it is already slipping silently away.

And so as I tuck him in, I crawl in too. He pulls the covers over both of us and I lay with him for a few minutes.

Because I want to smell his hair, touch his cheek. Because I want to hold his hand while he drifts.  

Because I can. Because he will let me. Because I don't know when he will ask again.... 

Gaining Perspective

I have been thinking a lot about perspective lately… I have always known that each of us come to a conversation or an experience differently. That depending on our past, our vantage points can be as unique as every individual person.

Three people are engaged in a conversation and one of them shares a story from their point of view. No matter how they tell their tale, it is interpreted in two separate ways because of the personal history of those who are listening. It is not the intention of anyone to show a bias, it is something that occurs naturally. 

There will be times when you experience an event or have an interaction with another person where you will walk away with one insight and they will have a completely different analysis of what transpired. I have heard the saying, there are two sides to every story and then there is the truth—but I challenge that a little. I believe that everyone is living their truth and sharing their truth, but that our truths are not always in sync. Do I think that an independent party can observe two people in opposition and prevail with a clear head? Yes, I do. But that third party is also seeing the situation from their own perspective. And while those two people in disagreement will never agree, they are also valid in expressing what they know to be their truth. There is the risk that frustration and possible heartache go hand in hand with this idea, but your truth will always to be your own, as my truth will only be mine.

I know not everyone will agree with me on this—and I am still working out the details for myself, while remaining open and increasing my awareness, but I am hoping this line of thinking will be as eye-opening for some of you as it has been for me. We each weave our own story, and the tapestries of our lives are all breathtaking, but they will never look the same—and that is what makes them truly beautiful.

Taking A Moment

I need to leave in 10 minutes to pick up Liam, I have freelance projects due tonight, home insurance to deal with, volunteer work to do, dinner to figure out..... I am feeling overwhelmed and suddenly frozen with the onset of anxiety that it won’t all get it done, how can it all get done…

And then I look down at the necklace I am wearing, I take a deep breath, lower my shoulders, surrender to the moment and exhale, making a similar sound to when I would fog a window on a cold day so I could doodle a heart, it is always a heart.

My necklace holds a pendant in the shape of an acorn—the acorn is made from the fluffy white dandelion seeds dipped in clear acrylic. In the moment before someone wished and sent those small seeds into the air, they were gathered and transformed into a clear acorn shape fitted with a real acorn top. It shows me the power of possibility, of growth and the magic of wishes frozen in time.

Many acorns will be disregarded, stepped on, taken away by wildlife (or my kids who love to collect them) but some of them will survive and thrive, breaking through to grow into a new tree. That’s what I want to do right now, survive the moment to thrive later on. As I pause, the light catches the tiny dandelion fuzz in the light and I can see the seeds shining through. And I remember hearing once that dandelions represent the sun, moon and stars—the yellow for the sun, white puff for the moon and when the seeds fly through the air they are like the stars. It’s funny to think that these little seeds can travel miles seeking the best place to grow… kind of like the wishes cast out by children and adults alike.

And just like that I am calmer, all the stuff rolling around in my head is quiet and stand to get the car keys looking at Connor for the first real time today. Face all scrunched, he wants me to stop typing so he can watch a terrible YouTube video, so instead I take his face in my heads and kiss him all over. He is laughing now, videos forgotten, he skips to the kitchen for a snack and I leave to get Liam at rehearsal knowing that I escaped the world of overwhelm by simply being mindful. 

There was a time, not long ago where moments like this would have consumed me. I would have been useless for the rest of day, balled up, tight-fisted and dripping in sweat, but today is a new day filled with little specks of possibility…. and maybe even a little magic.

Thank you to my beautiful friend Michelle for years of friendship and of course, this necklace.

The Hair Makes the Man

The new haircut

Last weekend we took the boys for haircuts. And now I cannot stop staring at Liam because he grew with every lock of hair that floated to the ground.

For those of you who don’t know, Liam is very particular about his hair—he likes it combed forward, straight down, never to the side and he likes it with a little length to it. So, I asked the barber (the same one who gave him his very first haircut!) to keep it long on the top, short on the sides and the back. Then those two put their heads together and started whispering… I heard something about a “secret haircut” and then Dominic, the barber, winked at me and said, “don’t worry.”

And when he was done, the little elf kid with long hair and sweet, delicate features was gone—replaced by a handsome young man that I have to admit I was not ready to see. Now I can’t stop looking at him, touching his super-short strands and playing with the “spike” in the front. It’s like I am seeing him for the first time in a long time—and you know what, I think I am.

Liam at 18 months

We get so caught up in the day-to-day mayhem that can only be the Mumford house that I don’t stop to really look at my boys. I don’t pause to notice how angular his face has become, how skinny his arms and legs are now that grew another inch (or more!) and how knowing his eyes are now. When I see him in mind’s eye, he is still a chubby toddler racing around our NY apartment, cheeks a flapping and thighs a thundering, blonde hair in his wild, excited, open eyes. My heart aches to go back to those days when our biggest problem was having multiple pacifiers in every bag, drawer and bedside—and yet THIS is such an amazing time.

Now that my eyes have been opened, I am going to keep them open as long as I can, I don’t want to miss a beat of him spreading his wings and soaring into his true self, a journey that started with a simple haircut. 

Not My Best....

On the way to work this morning I was listening to podcast from Brené Brown with tears freefalling down my cheeks. She was talking about how vital it is to be vulnerable but that’s not why I was crying…  I was filled with regret after a terrible morning with the boys.

But it was listening to her talk about the importance of sharing our stories because chances are that at least one other person out there is feeling the way you do or has felt the way you do. So, it’s with vulnerability in the driver’s seat and courage riding shotgun that I share how no matter what intentions I set for the day, I could not fulfill them and to say to other parents out there, you are not alone.

Connor was up and down last night, needing to go to the bathroom and having bad dreams, so I was already dragging during my morning workout when he got up early and was super cranky. (Side note: I have to get food in him the moment he wakes or he is HANGRY! Not feeding him immediately can result in screaming, crying, thrown objects and an exhausted mom.) It took some extra coaxing and extra chocolate milk but we found our rhythm soon enough—and then Liam was up.

We have a rule that they have to eat breakfast at the table in the kitchen without toys or distractions on school days and YET this is broken every. single. day. Before I could put Liam’s cereal bowl down, the space filled with LEGO Ninajo guys and a LEGO catalogue and his homework which he didn’t finish last night. I move everything over to another table and we start again. And he is off like a shot, running down to the playroom to get “something” with me calling after him that he has 20 minutes to eat and finish his math before brushing his teeth. 5 minutes go by, I call again. And now there is 10 minutes left—I am starting to see red and demanding that he get upstairs, my voice getting louder and shriller.

Now he's at the table, but everything is distracting him. Connor. Toys. Pencils. Lights. I re-direct, re-direct, re-direct. He is in and out of his seat. And now Jesse is downstairs, he re-directs, re-directs, re-directs. Our voices are rising every time because we are trying to break through to him, but he isn’t hearing us, we are as effective as white noise. And just like he’s out of time with one bite of cereal eaten and half a math page done—and he blows his top, he screams that we are the worst parents and all he wants to do is look at his LEGOs—is that so wrong?

At this point my pulse is thudding in my head, I am going to be late for work. I want to really scream, like LOUD, but I can see the yelling isn’t work, so I (painfully) calmly ask him to show me his stop sign and take a belly breath and think about what he wants to do next. He throws something and says he hates me.

And in an instant, I am scooping up LEGOs that will be taken away from him as a punishment, grabbing his wrist and escorting him to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he’s sputtering and crying, while I rage on about disrespect and how that makes me feel and blah blah blah.

The next 15 minutes are blur of yelling, apologies, reassuring Connor, snow pants, crying, snacks, boots, coats and then backpacks are on and they are gone. In the very-sudden-quiet I turn and see that Connor’s water bottle is on the table and then I am outside racing after them, waving a Hulk bottle like a mad woman.

Liam stops me and says, I am really sorry for everything today, I didn’t mean what I said, I love you. I kiss both of them goodbye, grateful to have the chance to that.

I get in the car, start driving and burst into tears. Everything every therapist, doctor, teacher, aide rushes at me—yelling doesn’t work, they don’t hear when you repeat, you must re-direct, use the stop sign, make him breathe, time doesn’t mean the same to him that it does for you. And feel the self-loathing crush my shoulders like a weighted blanket of shame and sadness. For a second I indulge the grossness of this sensation and wonder what other families’ mornings are like. Do their kids just get out of bed and eat breakfast? Do their kids have ADHD? Do they have a slow processor? And the moment I start wondering, I realize it doesn’t matter, bathing in self-pity is pointless because I have a great kid that just requires a little extra. And my heart was suddenly very heavy knowing I wasn’t able to give him that extra today…

In my mind, I know there are bad times, days when I am tired and can’t give it my all, but I also know how quickly things can spiral out of control and wish I could go back and try it again. Sitting here I am so bone-tired, emotional drained and craving chocolate. But I will pick myself, do some work, re-affirm my intentions and be better when I get home because I know if I can be better, Liam will be better, Connor will be better, then we all will be better.

And you know what? A little bit better is a little bit better and that is all that matters, today and always.

Setting My Intention

Revisiting my post from last week, I think I have stumbled upon my intention for 2018.

Live openly. Live consciously. Live simply.

I know it is much longer than one word, but for me, I think it needs to be. I am looking to deepen a mind, body and spiritual connection within myself and with those around me.

And so here is what these three things mean to me.

Live openly.

Be grateful

Silence my inner critic

Release thoughts/actions that don’t serve me or anyone else

Act with kindness toward others and myself

Try new ideas, foods, experiences

Let go of fear

Lead with my heart

Say I love you

Live consciously.

Move when my body needs to move

See beyond my tunnel vision to take in the FULL picture

Stop when I am full

Rest if I am tired

Breathe before yelling

Live simply.

Spend time with people I love

Donate clothes/items I don’t absolutely love

Try a capsule wardrobe

Turn off my phone/computer

Declutter surfaces

Surround myself with items that lift me up

Give minimalism a go

In the Wee Small Hours...

Lying in bed with the chill from outside still on my cheeks. I let the softness of the blankets wrap me in warmth with visions of my victory dancing through my head. After all it's not every day you race outside and actually CATCH the trash guy before he is gone. Especially on a Saturday. Especially when the sun is just rising. Especially after a blizzard!

Somewhere in that delicious state of almost asleep-ness, I hear a stir from the other room. And before I can even process what's happening, I get a tingle of excitement like butterflies in my belly. It gives me pause, wakes me up to a new realization. Do I always get a little rush of happy when I hear my boys begin to stir? I think I do! HA! How funny. How strange. How amazing!

And just like that I am awake, not only to the day, but to the fact that there are two children in the other room who call me mom... and suddenly I am filled with so much gratitude that my eyes well up. Completely caught off-guard by how after eight years of being a mama I can still be affected by the awesomeness of being a parent, I breathe in the moment letting it wash over me like a warm shower of grace and honor. I feel silly for being so overwhelmed by this emotion, but at the same time I want to shout, I am a mom! Can you believe how lucky I am? I smile to myself in the diminishing darkness and simply let it go. I don't care if it's silly or ridiculous, it is so real to me right now. 

So I lay there... my body sinking into the bed with exhaustion but my mind alive with anticipation. Then I hear it: thud.....thud.... thud...thud...thud...thudthudthud. And two eyes meet mine, straw-like hair everywhere. I scoop him up into bed with me and his sweet, sleepy smile melts me. And in a flash it's replaced by a mischievous grin and I know the game is on. Jumping up, he pauses only for second to say "Mommy are you coming?" 

And while my whole self wants nothing more than sleep, I find myself following him downstairs for cereal and Scooby Doo. And it's here that I write this, on the couch, covered in blankets in the half light, a blond head on my shoulder and a happy heart. 

Rethinking Resolutions

There was a time when I was all about the resolutions. Jan 1 was the deadline, the beginning of the end. I was going to rock it out, crushing every single goal, no prisoners!

I was so quick to tear myself up for everything that went wrong the year before and desperate for a fast fix to make it all better—lose the weight, stop nail biting, get organized, start the blog—that I rarely stuck with anything at all. Sure I was happily flaunting skinny jeans by February 1st but by April, I was back where I started and my HANGRY state of mind made me no fun to be around! My kitchen cabinets are crammed full of abandoned organizers, my nails are nubs and this blog has been reinvented more times than some A-list celebs I won’t name…

So, this year I am taking a different approach. I am setting an intention. What is that and what is the difference between that and a resolution? Awesome question. I am still working through it but here is how I have come to understand it—and I would love to hear your thoughts, as always!

Through my yoga practice I have always heard the instructor talk about setting an intention—I thought this was confined to that class, somehow I didn't get that the concept could (and should!) be extended outside of those four walls! I love the feeling generated by allowing yourself to be enough, to be fulfilled by what is around you, to be completely open and fully present—maybe that’s why I missed the boat, I was too busy vibing in my momentary bliss to realize I could roll it up with my mat and take it with me.

Setting intentions seems to me to be a way to clear the clutter and announce a simplified mind-set to carry yourself through each moment of each day. It releases you from the resolution which screams at you like a drill sergeant and lowers the volume to a whisper that comes from a place of love and understanding—you can move forward without being attached to an “outcome,” making you more aware of the journey.

A great example of an intention is HAPPY. When you decide to live HAPPY, and not rely on other people or other things to make you happy, you are vowing to bring your HAPPYness to everything you do from folding laundry to playing with your kids to creating your art. It is with you always, helping you to embrace the small moments long enough to notice the new freckle on your son’s cheek or how the light streams into your kitchen or the beauty of the perfect cup of coffee. It gives you permission to let go of the emotions and stress that don’t serve you and allows you to open your heart a little bit more each day.

I am in the process of cultivating my 2018 intention, it’s not there yet but just the thought of it makes me a little giddy! As soon I have it formed, I will share it I promise, but in the meantime, have you set any intentions this year? I would love to hear them!

New Year, New Blog

Welcome back to the blog formerly known as WoMom. Yes, it has been a while but I am so glad to see you here!

To ring in 2018, I am excited to bring you all more of the Mumford family shenanigans.

This January, I will be taking the creativity up a notch. My goal is to do 5 in 5—so look for 5 blog posts over 5 days starting soon. And no topic is off limits! Whether it's taming our wild kids, pics/reviews of pretty little things I love, managing ADHD/anxiety or tips to make it through the day without eating a sleeve of Girl Scout cookies in a locked bathroom—if we are living it, I am going to share it because chances are you might be living it too! And hey, we're all in this together, right?

I really hope you all join me on this adventure, it is sure to be quite the journey!

XOXO