Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

a viral post and some writer soul searching

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Almost six years ago now, my first child; our son, Greyson, was a year and a half and I felt like I was losing my mind.  As a brother-less mother, I felt blindsided with every new age and stage as our son started to grow out of his babyhood and turn into a toddler.  In a panic, I bought a ton of raising son type books, talked to and asked questions of as many Boy moms as I could, and scoured Pinterest for tips of raising boys.

Finally, after being inspired by a list I saw for Dads raising daughters by Michael Mitchell, I put together a list that I would be able to come back to if and when I started to doubt myself as a Mom again (and I have doubted myself about three million times since then!).  Something I could use as a foundation for the kind of Mum I wanted to be for our son(s) based on what I aspire towards and all the good that was raised up in my husband (thank you Gigi!)

This was how 25 Rules for Moms with Sons was written in November 2011.

About three months later, in early 2012, that post got swept up in an internet tornado and has been on a journey all its own - even into present day. In fact, just this week, my original post was re-shared by MOPS International on facebook (thank you), and I'm always so humbled and grateful when my friends/readers tag me in the comments to let me know they saw my words out in the world.


My original post has been run by plenty of websites through the years.  The Good Men Project was the best about it, adding me to their list of contributors and running other pieces of writing I've done.  Many other sites have shared the article and linked back to my site, and unfortunately, some bloggers have done much worse and simply copied & pasted my writing and linked me only as "a blog I read" with no mention of my name as the author.

This post has been discussed in podcasts, run through online newspapers, and re-pinned so many times I've lost count.  I have heard from readers the most heartfelt messages of how it touched them and I am constantly blown away by the kind and loving responses various Moms have to reading it. I even wrote a One Year Later Reflection post about the whirlwind of the piece's internet journey. Just a few months ago, I heard from a Mum that said she still has a copy of it hanging on her fridge.  And my dearest friend just told me that she re-reads it once a year as she's now a mother of two sons (I wrote the piece before she became a momma).  It's also seen it's fair share of critics and haters too (but that comes with the territory).

That singular post -within my whole almost nine years of blogging- has been the biggest thing to ever come out of this blog.  I'm grateful to that post for bringing into my life so many of my now loyal readers and sweetest internet friends.  And I'm appreciative of and so very very humbled by the positive ways it has touched Moms over the years.

So, (finally getting to it now, hah), two Fridays ago, my 25 Rules for Moms with Sons post experienced another bizarre moment, enough so that it's taken me almost two weeks to let my emotions simmer enough to be in a place to share here now with a clear head and grateful heart.

I woke up on Friday morning before the kids, got my coffee, and quickly hopped onto Instagram to see a notification that someone had tagged me in a photo that included the words from my #25 of my Moms of Sons post as the caption without credit to me as the writer.  My knee jerk reaction is kindness and benefit-of-the-doubt, so I responded in kind to both Adrian (who alerted me) and Rachael (who had posted my words without tagging me).  And went about my morning.

Then I logged into facebook and realized what all the fuss was about. The Instagram photo was also shared to her blog page five days earlier and over the course of the week had been shared by:  Scary Mommy, Good Housekeeping, Babble, Yahoo, and PopSugar.  By the time I had even seen it, the original post was shared over 30K times and the reshares were over a combined 20K. And it wasn't until it had already 'gone viral,' before I was mentioned at all as the writer.

I spent most of the rest of the day trying to do some investigative work, figuring out who exactly had shared it and with how much credit to me...

College Candy was better than most quoting my response to Rachael on Instagram (which was my first reaction when I received Adrian's note on Friday morning).

Celebrity Rave did worst than most mentioning me, as almost a nuisance to their story; a bullet point they begrudgingly had to add,  "shared a touching message written by a fellow blogger."  (By the way, in the spirit of internet justice - Daily Mail UK, you should take a look at Celebrity Rave's post  because it looks like they simply copy&pasted from you, never linked up to your post, and also left out any of the decent bits).

I also spent the day, messaging back and forth with Adrian from Tales of an Educated Debutante who was so passionate about making it right for me as a writer that she directed her own readers to join my facebook page (thank you!).  Emailing back and forth with Scary Mommy who apologized for how the whole thing went down.  Responding to a beautiful and kind message from Kara from Mothering the Divide about how she empathizes with how frustrating it can be as a writer, especially knowing that in today's world the likes & shares matter to get your voice heard.

It was certainly disheartening to see firsthand the sort of state of internet 'reporting' that we are in right now.  Lots of people were picking up the photo and caption - some even reaching out to Rachael to interview her about how it felt to go viral.  Do you want to guess how many websites reached out to the writer of the words of the photo?  None of them.  Not one single website that ran the story (even when they linked to my original post) emailed or messaged me to ask for a response from me!  I had a real internal struggle with trying to digest that big time sites were interviewing another small time blogger (who doesn't know me nor even regularly reads my blog) about how something I wrote made her feel....? I just find that it so very disappointing.  It doesn't appear to be about the actual story, but rather it's about being viral  -and that feels disingenuous and shallow.

There were certainly lessons that came out of the experience.  First and most astounding, I may only have a small group of readers, but they are loyal to the core.  I was honestly blown away by their ferocity of loyalty and cry for justice for my words.  I have made some new actual friends across social media, and received quite a few new followers thanks to (although late arriving) credit to my words as the author of the 'homebase' language.



I also had the incredible and important opportunity to practice loving kindness and made, surprisingly, a new friend in Rachael.  We had a chance to talk throughout the day via messenger and as I told her, there are no hard feelings.  I really do understand the nature of the internet and how things can get away from all of us, and also how mistakes can be made.  It does me no good to hold a grudge in my heart, and so I don't, truly.  I deeply believe that what you send out into the world is what comes back, so I choose to send out kindness, understanding, and patience, every darn time.  And at the end of the day - the mommas who needed the message found it in Rachael's post. That is surely the greater good in all of it.

The most difficult part was trying to find a healthy balance within myself.  After six years of my 25 Rules for Moms with Sons post being used and re-shared so many times, it really does feel like something that no longer belongs to me.  Almost like it's just property of the world; of all mothers now.  I think it if had been any other pieces of my writing that had been used without my consent, it would have broken my heart.  But that particular post has been such a beast of it's own in the past six years that it barely stings anymore.  And yet also, trying to justify that it is My writing, My words, My feelings that I poured out onto that page.  It continues to be My words that I have been writing about My family for the past six years. That I should be just as proud and ferocious about my writing as those loyal readers were who wanted to seek out justice for me when they saw this unfold.  That I should see my writer's voice as valuable in the wider world.  To see myself as a 'real writer' who deserves the recognition that comes with people being touched by something that was born out of my heart and experiences.

At the root of this still on-going (?!), six year long journey of this piece - it was My son who inspired this list.  I appreciate so much that it applies to so many mothers and sons (and even plenty of mothers and daughters ), but it wasn't written about Every boy...it was written about My boy.  My boy inspired a list that has been read and shared literally millions of times.  My boy who STILL inspires me to have to continually go back to and cling to that list while he's driving me crazy with his seven year old wild, yet wonderful self.   In my One Year Reflection post, I wrote this and it's still true:
"At the end of the line, for me, the greatest of all prides in this journey of my blogpost (that went from our silly little family blog - to making its way around the internet and has been read millions of times):  it is that it grew from inspiration from a boy.  my boy.   I have printed all of the comments from my post to add to his baby book with this note:  Because of your life and the inspiration you have given my heart that spoke to my brain and moved my fingers - you have inspired moms and their sons around the world, my sweet darling. You are a history maker.  I love you forever and ever - thank you for the inspiration everyday."

Booboo,
my oldest baby.
(I can't think too much about it without crying, but)
I will love you forever.
even when you make me mad, sad, and crazy.
even when you're bigger than me.
even as your wildness breaks all our things.
and your smart mouth breaks my heart.
even then.
my darling,
i love you.
mum.

my favorites of me

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

It's always interesting to me to watch how readers respond to my posts.  Sometimes as soon as I hit publish, I have a feeling in my heart that it will connect with readers and it will be well received - and I'm right and grateful.  Happy that I was able to write honestly about something and there were other people out there that could read it and feel the string tied between us tighten. Maybe bring the world a little cozier because we are all in this together loving and feeling and struggling and living this beautiful, messy thing called life.

And sometimes, I'm surprised by the connection that people have with a piece of writing that I do - maybe because it was super personal and I was really just writing for me but somehow people were able to find a way to connect to them.  Often times it's because the blogging world can feel kind of lonely and sometimes you're just sending words out into a sea of cluttered, polluted, superfluous space where everyone is already overstimulated and who has time to read this little corner of the web anyway.  But then I hear from people in my real life that read it, or I get comments and emails when I wasn't expecting any and its validating and reassuring and it's happy bewilderment.



And there are posts that are my own personal favorites.  Is it self-indulgent to admit that sometimes I dig back through the archives to read some of my former posts to re-center my writing and my voice?  Sometimes I sift back through because I need to see our Greyson at four years old and cry a little bit about time that has passed and phases that are over forever for him.  Sometimes I'll drop in to send a little kiss back to that momma I used to be with only two kids and no school schedule dictating our days and remember how that used to feel hard and be grateful for the peace and lowered standards that comes naturally with even just a little more experience in motherhood and...and well, four kids.

So, maybe it's a little excessive to share my own writing, or maybe I'm just feeling a little nostalgic today with these gray skies and rainy forecast. But in any case, here are some of my own favorites of my own.

on motherhood.

a day in the life of a new mumma (2010)

a letter to the future (2011)

On the day you were born Gemma Rose (2012)

digging deep (2012)

An open letter to my first born child (2013)

Mumma (2014)

the joy you brought with you, Violet (2014)

the end of the bubble era (2015)

our Rustin James (2016)

on love.

a real life love story (2011)

a story for my kids about their dadda (2012)

Happy. (2012)

the electricity between us (2013)

the nap. (2016)

on life.

note to self (2010)

my entire thank YOU thursday series  (I cannot read any of them without my cup overlowing with literal tears from the gratitude for the people in my life)

the ole 5 year plan (2012 - I need to update this now, hah!)

The words that change us (2013)

an open letter to my daughter about her body (2013)

a speck in the vastness (2015)

thank a coach (2016)

and for a laugh

Things I never thought I'd say..and then we got Bullet (2010)

You might be married to a redneck (2012)

Boy Mom:  Paper Hearts (2013)

go home winter, you're drunk (2014)





and to you readers,
thank you for being here.  if it's just for today or if it's because you're a regular reader.  I love writing and keeping track of our family life here.  and I'm so grateful (and truly amazed) that anyone else can come here and make a meaningful connection to what I write.  thank you for spending any amount of time of your day here with me.  xxoxo
gratefully,
tab

the value of my own creativity

Monday, February 23, 2015

We are deep into our second month of the year and I am continuing to work towards the completion of my 100 small things.  This past month, I have been attempting to tackle No. 79 Take an Online Writing Course by participating in the Write Yourself Alive course with Andrea Balt and Tyler Knott Gregson.

The course has been a good learning experience for me in two main ways.  First, I have really been stretching my abilities into different kinds of writing and creativity than I have in the past, or at least been comfortable with trying in the past.  Specifically poetry.  I actually claimed for a long time (up until about the last 9 years) that I didn't 'get poetry.' It seemed so abstract and odd to me; turns out I just hadn't been reading poetry that spoke to me.  And then I was introduced to Billy Collins and fell in literary love with his words (especially his An Introduction to Poetry) and have been interested in poetry ever since.

One day of the course we were encouraged to write a poem and this is what I wrote (cabin fever and three little kids were my inspiration).


I even tried out for the first time ever Black Out Poetry which I found to be quite challenging but exhilarating too.  I grabbed the closest thing to me which turned out to be a World Vision magazine, and got to blacking out portions of the type.  I have always thought it would be a relatively easy thing to do, but it turned out I was really flexing my mind and creative limits.  Black Out Poetry is something I'll definitely consider trying again when I'm feeling stuck in creativity.


My Black Out Poem:

We were community
love
partnership
Vision of perfect
When addressing fear
I am not mature
In a place I've never been before
We never imagine the suffering
Now it takes something rare to be happy
Clean changed to dirty
In fact, 
so many have to sit on the floor

The second thing I'm learning during this writing course is that I do not.  DO NOT. make the time for my creative self.  I don't and I really wish I did (and know I should) but like lots of Mums I guess, I continually find myself the last in line by default.  There are babies to tend to, pets to feed, laundry to be done, rooms that need picked up, a husband I want to spend time with, bills that need paid, food that needs prepared...and I generally find myself exchanging the time it would take to shower (let alone write!) for taking care of someone (or something) else.

The course is 30 days and if I'm being honest, I've completed about a third of the day's writing assignments.  ugh.  I've printed all the information in hopes that even after the course officially ends online, I'll complete the writing questions and continue to learn how to make time for my own creative soul.  I've logged on a few times to share my writing - because I know this is truly the aspect of the course that is probably most beneficial; to get the chance to read and share work with like-minded people.  But I know I could be more committed - I want to be more committed (!) but it is a fault of mine that somehow the weight of it doesn't feel equal to the weight of my other responsibilities (which is not true, but Moms).

This past week we were asked to reflect on our kids (or important people in our lives) that we could give a one page message of advice of lessons we've learned in life.  Here's what poured out of me:



My most repeated affirmation during the course has been, "I have a creative soul and it is valuable." I am refusing to cross this task officially off my 100 small things list until I have completed each day's worth of writing assignment.  So until then, I'll keep marching along and figuring out how to get my heart and mind on the same page for my creative affirmation.

I HAVE A CREATIVE SOUL AND IT IS VALUABLE.

The Eleventeen Period

Friday, January 16, 2015

we are currently residing in the Eleventeen Period.


A time where someday we will look back in awe and captivation at how interesting and simpler it will seem through glasses smudged like the camera at the dmv where our teenagers will receive their first driver's licenses.

The Eleventeen Period is full of movement, and voices too loud, and belief in magic.  It will be remembered fiercely for its lack of personal space and the inability to arrive anywhere at the time expected.

It is a period where time itself is suspended.  

  • Getting older is circular; you can grow bigger and smaller.  Mommy, when you grow little and I'm big, I'll let you play with my babies.  (Gemma Rose)
  • The idea of forever or 'your whole life long' is unfathomable.  But how many years will we need to have bedtime?  Forever.  For your whole life you'll go to sleep at night.  No, Mumma, are you telling a lie?  (Greyson Rudy in a conversation with Mum)


  • Distinction between kid and adult exists but no distinction within.  When will you get a baby in your belly, Abba?  (Greyson Rudy to his grandmother)


It is a period where everyone has the potential to be or do anything as well as the next person.

  • There are no limitations of fear or embarrassment.  Do you think your Uncle Jonny can sing?  Mum, everyone can sing.  (Greyson Rudy in a conversation with Mum)


  • There are no connections to or concerns about societal expectations.  Daddy, you look beautiful like a princess girl.  You need some more lipstick though.  (Gemma Rose while giving her Dad a makeover)


  • Where beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder.  Mumma!  You look so beautiful, i love this dress!  (Gemma Rose when she sees her Mum in a floral robe)


It is a period where there is no place more safe, no people more fun and important than inside our home and with our family.

  • There is almost no limit on the vast amount of arbitrary thoughts that absolutely need recounted to loved ones.  Mum, I was looking at that football in the yard and then thinking maybe if someone loved football so much they could stack up footballs and more footballs all the way up to build a football house. Wouldn't that be cool? (Greyson Rudy to Mum while he stared thoughtfully out the window)


  • That being away from one another is cause for concern and a need for reassurance.  Will you come back?  Will Bullet come back too?  I'll be so worried.  (Gemma Rose when Mum was taking Bullet to the vet)


  • That words and acts of affection are given freely and without restraint.  Dad, I love you so much! (Greyson Rudy to his Dad every day without provocation).  You the best Mummie ever!  (Gemma Rose after receiving a hershey kiss from her Mum after lunch)


The Eleventeen Period will last for what will feel like eons.  Forever we will feel stuck in the days of Eleventeen - wishing for just minutes of time that would allow us a shower, or meals that don't include a defcon five clean-up duty afterwards.

And then one day, our children will count straight to twenty without any mention of eleventeen

...and it will be over.

What happened to eleventeen? we'll ask each other with frantic eyes.  How could eleventeen have slipped out the backdoor without either of us noticing; leaving to never ever return to us.  Did eleventeen enjoy her stay?  Did we do a good job of appreciating and acknowledging her before she vanished before our eyes?

Like most time periods, Eleventeen glistens in gold when you look back on her.  It's the living through her with your head down and heels dug in while you nearly collapse under the weight of the 'did they eat enough real food today?  Will we ever be on time for an appointment?  How many days in a row has he worn those dirty clothes? when you lose sight of Eleventeen's beauty.

It's easier to look back and be grateful than it is to look around and notice the beauty hiding under the legos that were left on the floor or the magic in that moment as a reluctant child finally closes their eyes to sleep while you rub circles on their back.

*****
Dear Eleventeen,
Please, please, please help me see the beauty and magic in the endless questions and the endlessly sticky hands.  Help me recognize the greater need of 'hold you' for a few seconds longer than the need to unload the dishwasher before the dishes pile up in the sink.

Even though I complain and sigh about you so often, I do love you so much Eleventeen.  Please don't go soon.  You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.
I appreciate you,
tabitha

how we spend our days

Sunday, February 2, 2014

I have mentioned before that one of my favorite blogs to read is by Lindsay Mead over at A Design so Vast.  Her style of writing and her topics almost always inspire me and leave me sitting breathless and chilled to the bone.  She recently wrote The prism through which all of life is seen and I have not been able to stop thinking about it since reading it a few days ago.  This weekend, she posted about a writing group she was involved in over at Catching Days in the monthly series entitled How we spend our days.  Lindsay's involvement in the series was my first introduction to not only the monthly posts, but also to the quote by Annie Dillard that inspired the series in the first place.
"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives."  - Annie Dillard in The Writing Life
It has been a rough past week; I'm attempting to recover from a sinus cold that has lasted more than five days while my children have been healthy and full of pent-up winter energy during days that dipped down into the negatives.  And then reading those words yesterday, was a small chip in the windshield in front of my face.  The spider cracks spread across the entire length and it feels as though the dingy windshield has shattered and I can see clearly for the moment.  Because if I'm being honest with myself, how I spend my days; and thus my life, is so beautifully blessed it is almost painful to look at straight on.

I spend a great deal of the day caring for my home and family.  Cleaning, picking up, washing, drying, loading, folding, wiping down, finding things that are lost, answering the question 'why?,' re-organizing, cooking meals, cutting up into bite-size pieces, texting Brandon, finding patience to wait for a toddler to put on her own jacket as she shouts, 'I do!,' rubbing backs, kissing booboos, filling dog dishes, sweeping, logging the grocery list, laughing at toddler jokes that have no punchlines, scraping unrecognizable pieces of gunk off of unfathomable places thinking, "What is this and how long has it been here?"

A portion much longer than I wish, is spent looking at a screen; paying bills, reading articles, watching videos, checking social media, working on The Hunting Daddies, writing on the blog or working on my novel, helping kids trace letters or feed food to monsters, locating an episode of Team Umizoomi, reading a recipe, and then subsequently googling 'substitute for sour cream.'

Reflecting on the Dillard quote has surged up a desire in me to actually spend more time in my days doing the things I want my life to be spent doing.  Things like writing - although I spend a very big part of my day thinking about writing - exercising, mediating, reading actual grown up books (instead of online articles and children's picture books), and catching up with loved ones in ways that are more varied than a short phone call punctuated by my kids yelling in the background.

The quote has also shed a light in my heart to appreciate and realize that there is no part of my day; and thus life, that I spend worrying about my physical safety or the safety of those that I love.  In no part of my day do I have to struggle to find food or warmth for myself or my family.  Very rarely do I spend time administering medication or waiting for a doctor's visit for questions answered.  At no time do I have to wonder if any given place will be able to accommodate my family's needs; my entire family is blessed as we all can physically, mentally, and socially adjust to any given place and it's restrictions.  These are things that mothers worldwide spend portions of their day doing, as I carry on not even considering it.

But the spider crack that actually caused the whole window to shatter was the realization that the very greatest portion of my day, the thing I do while I also do all of the things listed above - is holding my children.  Children in my laps while I eat, lounge, rock to sleep.  Children in my arms while I balance two sippy cups and a bowl of snacks.  Picking children up and putting them down in various locations; the countertop, the time-out chair, the bath, their car seat.  Answering with extended arms, the small-voiced requests of 'hold you.' All day long, my babies are either in my arms or on my lap.

At the end of time, I hope the way I have spent my life will be measured by the weight of my children in my arms.



Mum time

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Now that I'm in the swing of my sahm schedule, I've been able to make some adjustments to our daily life that I'm getting some solid 'mum time' in just to myself.  It's revolutionary.  

As I mentioned before, I've been running on a regular basis (5-7 days a week).  I started out so slow and just running the perimeter of our yard (which 4 times around is a mile!), but now that I have more confidence in my breathing and abilities - I've been jogging the trails behind our house and around the neighborhood.  In the beginning I was only able to run a mile and I was cursing and having trouble breathing the whole time.  After a few weeks now, 2 miles feels great and 3 miles feels good in a challenge sort of way.  

And can I just be honest here and say, it's awful to get started every morning - like battling myself, but it's actually my body that wants to get out and run, it's convincing my head that's the worst part.  I like to go first thing in the morning since no one else is awake yet and I can get it done when I know there will be no interruptions.  As soon as I get outside and put on my sneakers though - I automatically feel better and excited to start.  


Sometimes I do end up having to take the kids because of an early rise for them or a late start for me.  Those runs are always a little shorter and start-stop-start-stop kind since it's a battle to get them to either sit still in the stroller and run alongside with me.  The farthest distance with them in the stroller has been 2miles and that was a really hard one.


The real reason that I keep running is because I love seeing my miles stack up for the week.  It feels like a gold start sticker at the end of the week when my miles equal 8 or more.  And at the end of the month to see how many miles in total I've ran is also a big motivator (I use RunKeeper).  That total miles part is what gets me running everyday, even if its only a short/quick run - at least it was contributing to the overall total. 

I initially started running thanks to a dose of major inspiration from Ashley from the Big White Farmhouse and also in preparation for a 5K my whole family & two family friends signed up for called The Gladiator Rock & Run.  We actually ran it this past weekend and while the kids played and hung out with Ninna and Uncle Jonny - we all ran, climbed, scaled, and swam through a 3mile course of 10 obstacles and a whole ton of mud.  It was such a great time.






Another very exciting 'Mum time' activity that is starting this week - is my enrollment in Jessica Roscoe's How to Write a Novel E-course.  Jessica writes over at The Creative Mumma and she has designed a course specifically for Mums who want to write a novel but can never find the time with the responsibility of, ya know, keeping children alive and all.  I read this from her e-course description and knew I needed to sign up:

Jessica Roscoe - The Creative Mumma


The first week of the course starts this Friday 9/13/13 (so you still have time to enroll and get the earlybird rate on the enrollment price!!  Come be my classmate!!)  The 12 week course is scheduled to cover topics ranging from goal setting, fears & insecurities, to editing, and self-publishing.  Public shout-out thank you to my friend Jamie (hi, Jamie!) who introduced me to The Creative Mumma site and will now have to have a special thanks in my acknowledgments section of my novel.  She is always introducing me to inspiring things and half-nude pictures of Joe Manganiello (which in and of itself are inspiring).  thank you Jamie! 
And this writing course is coming at great time considering I've been experiencing a serious case of writer's apathy.  bleh, sorry for the lack of posts recently.  working on overcoming my apathy :(

What are you doing to make sure your creative and Mumma sanity gas tank is full these days?  

Happy.

Monday, October 22, 2012

We're back from vacation all tanned up and relaxed (at least for a little while longer).  And to quench your Team Studer thirst (hahaha, yea right) -


Happy.
A short story.

He was working 10 hour days.  And she was staying up past midnight finishing her work.  This had been going on for weeks.

The baby was cutting teeth and the toddler had unfortunately mastered shouting the phrase, "Don't Tell Me NO, I'm your MOther," with uncanny emphasis on all the really good parts.

They had run out of milk for the second time that week and the dogs chewed through her favorite shoes to which she came very close to sitting on the floor and just sobbing it out.  He announced to no one in particular for the forty third time that month that, "We need to get the driveway fixed."  The baby spilled the dog's full water dish and the toddler was found eating a snack that was discovered under the couch from since who knows when.

And then, a break; an opportunity - they got a call from their family requesting the children for an evening of non-parental fun.

He said, "I'll make dinner." And she said, "I'll get the wine."  And he cooked while she talked on and on about funny news articles and about how the kids are doing things that are simultaneously sweet and annoying.  She read aloud the pinterest recipe while he rummaged through the spices cabinet and neither one of them dared open the dishwasher because they forgot to run it that morning and it smelled of old formula and gogurt.

They stepped over the giant sword strewn on the kitchen floor and pushed aside the high chair still caked in oatmeal in the dining room.  They dimmed the lights so as to make it almost impossible to see the macaroni&cheese stain on the tablecloth and the dog hair collecting in the corners of the room.

He said, "I'm just so happy with the way this turned out."  She smiled, "This is quite a feast." He looked up at her, surprised by her misunderstanding, " No, I mean - our life."

And she smiled at him.
And he smiled at her.
And they were happy.

the 'ole 5 year plan

Monday, August 6, 2012

So, I kind of feel like 5 years is the common number that people use when they make goals for their life.  Like in five years, I hope to be blah blah blah.  And I'm all about making goals and lists, um, seriously.  But randomly I re-discovered this little creative book (MemoRANDOM: A Journal for Lists, Memories, and Miscellany ) that I got as a gift for helping my friend with her wedding (thank you, Tare!  I'm still loving it 2 years later!) and I got to a page that said,

"Think of who you were five years ago.  Now, describe five* things that have happened to you in the past five years that your self from five years ago would be shocked to find out."

*Like I was going to ever stick to only five, let's get real here.

I didn't think it was that big of a deal until I started listing some stuff out.  Seriously, I dare you to start this - you will be amazed at how much can change in five years.  In retrospect, five years ago seems like a minute - but when you start really digging it all out - it's incredible to find how much is different from where you started and where you'd thought/hoped you'd be in five years.  Some 'shocking' details were funny, others were proud, and some were goals not yet met.  It was an awesome glimpse back in how much has changed in only five years.

So, let's get to it - five years ago, I was finishing up my last year teaching in Brooklyn, NY and getting ready to move in with Brandon into a teeny tiny little town in rural PA and super excited about planning our wedding for the following year.



And since then, my sweet little darling Tabitha at 24,you will be astonished to know that your life 5 years in the future have included the following "shocking" details:
  • you have a tv in your bedroom
  • you have two dogs and two cats
  • Brandon's pet fish are still alive (?!?!!)
  • you are a mumma twice over
  • you cut all your hair off, like all of it, to pixie.  and love it.
  • you've been to Thailand, Hawaii, and Jamaica
  • you've moved back to your home town.  and love it.
  • you started writing a blog
  • your blog has been visited over 1.6 million times  (thank you, readers!)
  • your reading is contained mostly to blogs and online articles, you hardly read actual books anymore
  • you drink coffee now...everyday
  • after all that planning, you couldn't wait for your wedding reception to end so you could just be alone with B
  • you've learned to vacuum with one hand and shield yourself from a toddler's flying styrofoam sword with the other
  • you  have an iphone.  and love it.
  • you can change a baby's diaper in the dark
  • you're tv viewing is mostly limited to NatGeo, Discovery Planet, Disney Junior, and Animal Planet
  • you turned on the "cool" radio station the other day and literally thought, "Ugh, noise" and turned it off
  • you are still not back in the classroom
  • you do things as a mother that you swore you'd never do - it is much different than you thought it was (both harder and better)




In five years from now, I think/hope my life will include some of these details - 
  • we will have added to our human family by 2 
  • we will NOT have moved again
  • we will have traveled to Europe 
  • we will still be doing 12 months of kindness
  • i will be working with kids again
  • my kids will be bilingual
  • b and i will have renewed our vows
  • i will be a published writer 
There's that perfect quote for this from the movie American Beauty, the narrator says - "...its a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself.."  So, let's see what we can do to shake things up, Tabitha at 34 of the future.  I know you'll try your best - I trust you to make the next 5 years happy and interesting.  Good luck - see you in five.

a story for my kids, about their dadda

Friday, June 15, 2012

Dear Grey & Gem,
I'd like to tell you a little story.  It's a story about your Dadda.  When Dadda was a young boy, he was a sports superboy.  He played baseball, football, golf, even volleyball, but he liked playing basketball the best.  He played basketball all through high school and when you get older and you can read our last name, we'll take you to our school's gym and show you Dadda's name hanging on the wall.  Then he went to college and played more basketball, that was where he met your Uncle Jonny; they played basketball together.  Greyson, you told me the other day that you liked Dadda's black basketball; the one in our office in the case.  I told you he got that for trying his best.  If you always try your best, you can earn cool stuff like black basketballs too.


Some people still remember Dadda as a basketball superboy.  There are newspapers of Dadda playing his old games that are hanging in a restaurant in town.   And just the other day when we were buying our new screen door, one of the workers used to be a referee and he recognized Dadda and said, "I remember you, you're the Ace."  It's important to always try your best, but you have to be nice too.  That's what Dadda always does, that's why people always smile when they talk with him.

Now that Dadda's big, he doesn't have as much time to play his favorite game because he has to go to work, and fix our house, and be your Dadda, and be with me.  But sometimes he still gets to play.  Dadda got to play in a local basketball game a few weeks ago.  We all went to watch him play with his old friends.  He huffed and puffed a little more than he used to and he missed a couple more shots than he used to, but he still played great because he tried his best and he was nice to the other team and the referees.  And we were proud of him.


That night, we packed you both up in your car seats after the game and while we were driving home, Dadda said, "you know, in all the times I was proud playing basketball games before, I was the most proud I've ever been tonight because my kids were there to see me play."

Grey and Gem, your Dadda might not be a basketball superboy anymore, but you should know he's a Superman.  And we're the luckiest family of all because we are his.



love you forever,
mum


happy father's day, to my kids' superman dadda.
thank you for making my dreams come true, b.

25 Rules for Mothers of Sons

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Inspired by a Pin I've recently seen about "rules for dads with daughters," I went searching for a similar list for moms with sons.  This search was mostly fruitless, so I was inspired to write my own Rules for Moms with Sons.  Granted, my list will not be conclusive and may not be entirely uncontroversial.  So agree, or disagree, or take with a grain of salt - but I hope to inspire other moms who are loving, and struggling, and tired, and proud, and eager to support the boys in their lives.  You are the most important woman in his life, his first teacher, and the one he will look to for permission for the rest of his life.  From "Can I go play with them?" to "Should I ask her to marry me?"  Its a big job, but as the mumma, we're up for it.

25 Rules for Moms with Sons


1. Teach him the words for how he feels.
Your son will scream out of frustration and hide out of embarrassment.  He'll cry from fear and bite out of excitement.  Let his body move by the emotion, but also explain to him what the emotion is and the appropriate response to that emotion for future reference.  Point out other people who are feeling the same thing and compare how they are showing that emotion.  Talk him through your emotions so that someday when he is grown, he will know the difference between angry and embarrassed; between disappointment and grief.




2. Be a cheerleader for his life
There is no doubt that you are the loudest person in the stands at his t-ball games.  There is no doubt that he will tell you to "stop, mom" when you sing along to his garage band's lyrics.  There is no doubt that he will get red-faced when you show his prom date his pictures from boy scouts.  There is no doubt that he is not telling his prom date about your blog where you've been bragging about his life from his first time on the potty to the citizenship award he won in ninth grade.  He will tell you to stop.  He will say he's embarrassed.  But he will know that there is at least one person that is always rooting for him.



3. Teach him how to do laundry
..and load the dishwasher, and iron a shirt.  He may not always choose to do it.  He may not ever have to do it.  But someday his wife will thank you.



4. Read to him and read with him.
Emilie Buchwald said, "Children become readers on the laps of their parents."  Offer your son the opportunity to learn new things, believe in pretend places, and imagine bigger possibilities through books.  Let him see you reading...reading the paper, reading novels, reading magazine articles.  Help him understand that writing words down is a way to be present forever.  Writers are the transcribers of history and memories.  They keep a record of how we lived at that time; what we thought was interesting; how we spoke to each other; what was important.  And Readers help preserve and pass along those memories.


5. Encourage him to dance.
Dance, rhythm, and music are cultural universals.  No matter where you go, no matter who you meet - they have some form of the three.  It doesn't have to be good.  Just encourage your son that when he feels it, it's perfectly fine to go ahead and bust a move.


6. Make sure he has examples of good men who are powerful because of their brains, their determination, and their integrity.
The examples of men with big muscles and a uniform (like Batman and LaMarr Woodley) will surround your son from birth.  But make sure he also knows about men who kick a$s because of their brains (Albert Einstein), and their pen (Mark Twain), and their words (Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.), and their determination (Team Hoyt), and their ideas (The Wright Brothers), and their integrity (Officer Frank Shankwitz), and fearlessness (Neil Armstrong), and their ability to keep their mouths closed when everyone else is screaming (Jackie Robinson).


7. Make sure he has examples of women who are beautiful because of their brains, their determination, and their integrity
The examples of traditionally beautiful women (like Daphne Blake, Princess Jasmine, and Britney Spears) will surround your son from birth.  But make sure he knows about women who are beautiful from the inside out because of their brains (Madame Marie Curie), and their pen (Harper Lee), and their words (Eleanor Roosevelt), and their determination (Anne Sullivan), and their ideas (Oprah Winfrey), and their integrity (Miep Gies), and fearlessness (Ameila Earhart), and their ability to open their mouths and take a stand when everyone else is silent (Aung San Suu Kyi).


8. Be an example of a beautiful woman with brains, determination, and integrity.
You already are all of those things.  If you ever fear that you are somehow incapable of doing anything - remember this:  If you have done any of the following:  a) grew life b) impossibly and inconceivably got it out of your body c) taken care of a newborn d) made a pain go away with a kiss e) taught someone to read f) taught a toddler to eat with a utensil g) cleaned up diarrhea without gagging h) loved a child enough to be willing to give your life for them (regardless if they are your own) or i) found a way to be strong when that child is suffering...you are a superhero.  do not doubt yourself for one second.  Seriously.


9. Teach him to have manners
because its nice.  and it will make the world a little better of a place.



10. Give him something to believe in
Because someday he will be afraid, or nervous, or heartbroken, or lost, or just need you, and you won't be able to be there.  Give him something to turn to when it feels like he is alone, so that he knows that he will never be alone; never, never, never.





11. Teach him that there are times when you need to be gentle
like with babies, and flowers, and animals, and other people's feelings.


  

12. Let him ruin his clothes
Resolve to be cool about dirty and ruined clothes.  You'll be fighting a losing battle if you get upset every time he ruins another piece of clothing. Don't waste your energy being angry about something inevitable.  Boys tend to learn by destroying, jumping, spilling, falling, and making impossible messes.  Dirty, ruined clothes are just par for the course.


13. Learn how to throw a football
or how to use a hockey stick, or read music, or draw panda bears (or in my case:  BigFoot), or the names of different train engines, or learn to speak Elvish, or recognize the difference betweeGryffindor and Slytherin, or the lyrics to his favorite song.  Be in his life, not as an observer but as an active participant.


  


14. Go outside with him
turn off the television, unplug the video games, put your cellphone on the charger, even put your camera away.  Just go outside and follow him around.  Watch his face, explore his world, and let him ask questions.  It's like magic.



15. Let him lose
Losing sucks.  Everybody isn't always a winner.  Even if you want to say, "You're a winner because you tried," don't.  He doesn't feel like a winner, he feels sad and crappy and disappointed.  And that's a good thing, because sometimes life also sucks, no matter how hard (as moms) we try to make it not suck for our kids.  This practice will do him good later when he loses again (and again, and again, and again, and again.....)  Instead make sure he understands that - sometimes you win - sometimes you lose.  But that doesn't mean you ever give up.



16. Give him opportunities to help others
There is a big difference in giving someone the opportunity to help and forcing someone to help.  Giving the opportunity lights a flame in the heart and once the help is done the flame shines brighter and asks for more opportunities.  Be an example of helping others in your own actions and the way your family helps each other and helps others together. 



17. Remind him that practice makes perfect.
This doesn't just apply to performance-based activities (like sports and music) but also applies to everything in life.  You become a better writer by writing.  You become a better listener by listening.  You become better speaker by speaking.  Show your son this when he is just young enough to understand (that means from birth, folks - they are making sense of the world as soon as they arrive), practice trick-or-treating at your own front door before the real thing.  Practice how you will walk through airport security before a trip.  Practice how you order your own food from the fast food cashier.  Practice, practice, practice.



18. Answer him when he asks, "Why?"
Answer him, or search for the answer together.  Show him the places to look for the answers (like his dad, or grandparents, or his aunts/uncles, or his books, or valid internet searches).  Pose the question to him so he can begin thinking about answers himself.  Someday, when he needs to ask questions he's too embarrassed to ask you - he'll know where to go to find the right answers.

  


19. Always carry band-aids and wipes on you.
especially the wipes.


  


20. Let his dad teach him how to do things
...without interrupting about how to do it the 'right way.'  If you let his dad show and teach and discover with your son while he is growing up, some day down the road (after a short period of your son believing his dad knows nothing), he will come to the realization that his dad knows everything.  You will always be his mother, but in his grown-up man heart and mind, his dad will know the answers.  And this will be how, when your son is too busy with life to call and chat with his mom,  you will stay connected to what is happening in his life.  Because he will call his dad for answers, and his dad will secretly come and ask you.


  


21. Give him something to release his energy
drums, a pen, a punching bag, wide open space, water, a dog.  Give him something to go crazy with - or he will use your stuff.  and then you'll be sorry.




22. Build him forts
Forts have the ability to make everyday normal stuff into magic.  Throw the couch cushions, a couple blankets, and some clothespins and you can transform your living room into the cave of wonders.  For the rest of his life, he'll be grateful to know that everyday normal stuff has the potential to be magical.



23. Take him to new places
Because it will make his brain and his heart open up wider, and the ideas and questions and memories will rush in.

 

24. Kiss him
Any mother of sons will tell you that little boys are so loving and sweet.  They can be harsh and wild and destructive during most of the day.  But there are these moments when they are so kind and sensitive and tender.  So much so that it can cause you to look around at the inward, reserved grown men in your life and think, 'what happens in between that made you lose that?'  Let's try to stop the cycle by kissing them when they're loving and kissing them even more when they're wild.  Kissing them when they're 2 months and kissing them when they're 16 years old.  You're the mom - you can go ahead and kiss him no matter how big he gets - and make sure he knows it.   p.s. (this one is just as important for dad's too).




25. Be home base
You are home to him.  When he learns to walk, he will wobble a few feet away from you and then come back, then wobble away a little farther and then come back.  When he tries something new, he will look for your proud smile.  When he learns to read, he will repeat the same book to you twenty times in a row, because you're the only one who will listen that many times.  When he plays his sport, he will search for your face in the stands.  When he is sick, he will call you.  When he really messes up, he will call you.  When he is grown and strong and tough and big and he feels like crying, he will come to you; because a man can cry in front of his mother without feeling self-conscious.  Even when he grows up and has a new woman in his life and gets a new home, you are still his mother; home base, the ever constant, like the sun.  Know that in your heart and everything else will fall into place.


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Update:  January 2012
Thank you to all who have stopped by and given me words of encouragement & support.  Thank you to all who have re-posted, pinned, tweeted, or facebooked this post (and sourcing my site).  Thank you to those of you that have read my list as I had intended; as a reminder on the hard momma days when you feel like you either want to scream or lock yourself in the bathroom and cry...this was a list I wanted to come back and remind myself who I want to be to my child and who my child needs me to be.  How to be the best mom to my child.  I am inspired by the many readers who, despite disagreeing with a few word choices or rules, were able to make adaptations to the list for how they could be the best mom for their kid(s).   This was a list for me, but to hear from so many of you out there that were able to find a connection with it has been overwhelming, inspiring, and makes me feel very safe to know that I'm no where near alone in this crazy journey of raising a boy.

Many of you have asked for printable versions of my list..well, ask and you shall receive!

Visit here for the short version of my list (just the main points of the 25 rules)
Visit here for the full version of my list

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Update:  November 2012

Thank you to all of you who continue to share, re-pin, re-post, and re-visit this blogpost.  It is amazing to see that I still get fresh comments and visits to this post.  If you are interested in reading more about my thoughts on this piece, please find my reflections about this post and the aftermath that I wrote 1 year later here:

1 Year Reflections: 25 Rules for Moms with Sons

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Update: July 2017

This post continues to live on and it still weaves it's own wild and weird path through the world of the internet. Thank you all who link and include me as the original author of these words. And a humble thank you to those of you who to.do.this.day reach out with messages and emails about how this post has impacted you as a mother. It means everything to hear from you and learn that my words reached you when you needed to read them.  Thank you for letting me know, it can be awfully lonely out here as a writer.

A viral post and some writer soul searching