This Side of Invisible

I'm woman enough to admit that last week I had a small nervous breakdown.  A mini meltdown, if you will.  It seems a bit silly now in retrospect, but I assure you it wasn't silly in the slightest last week. All my life I have been a busy body.  I don't mean the gossipy, busy body; I mean the real deal, genuine body that must be busy doing something meaningful.  As a young child it was gymnastics or dance or both, plus t-ball, then later softball.  I started babysitting when I was eleven.  Not just here-and-there, but nearly every weekend and on many occasions over night.  I played volleyball, basketball and was a cheerleader in middle school and I was a peer tutor.  In high school, I was involved in color guard, cheerleading, youth camps, leadership camps, more peer tutoring, drama club, church youth group, early morning bible study, the drug-free group at school, student council and I worked at Burger King and babysat on the side.  In college, I always took more than a f

There are those in the world that caution against looking back.  And I see the wisdom in that counsel... usually.  I understand that dwelling on the past hinders your movement forward.  But here's the thing, these last few days, I've learned the beauty and the value of letting yourself look back. This last weekend was General Conference for our church.  Basically, it's a televised conference (from Salt Lake City) in which our church leaders speak to us.  For those of us fortunate enough to live in areas where we have access to cable, satellite or the internet, it usually means we get to have 10 hours of church in our pajamas :)  For me, this weekend, it meant two days straight of having everyone home and 10 hours of trying to get kids to stay quiet.  It was a glorious, albeit long, weekend. Conference was great.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining in the least about that.  And my kids were great and I love them, sometimes it's actually fun to have every

A few posts ago, I shared The Parenting Manifesto by Brene Brown.  Now it's time to share my own Manifesto. I wrote this sometime ago, in the Spring, I think.  I wish I had dated it, so I could pinpoint that exact moment when I chose to make my life my own.  I didn't.  I jotted this down one day in Relief Society in the back of my manual.  I don't remember the lesson that provoked these thoughts.  And for time, I forgot that I had even written them down. But just yesterday, I found them again.  And I cried.  I want so much to live this life.  It's time to take the bull by the horns, to dare greatly, to give myself what I want. So here it is: My Own Manifesto I choose to live by choice and not by chance. To make changes, not excuses. To be motivated, never manipulated. I choose self-esteem, not self-pity. To be useful, never used. To excel, not compete. I choose faith, not fear. I choose to listen to my own inner voice, To never give heed to the random

I'm come to the conclusion that one of the hardest things to do is being forgiving of oneself. Lately, I have had cause to reflect on those times in my life when I have felt the most worthless, the most incapable, the most disgusting or the most unproductive.  And you know what: Usually, it has very little to do with me and everything to do with how much I am evaluating others and pitting their performance against my own. She has more time.  He has more money to give.  They don't have as many kids as I do.  They have more kids than I do and are so on top of it all.  She is a more talented singer than me.  His job is more prestigious.  Their child is getting a full-ride to college.  She is so organized, so crafty, such a good cook.  He is so handy, so cheerful, such an involved father.  Their marriage is ideal.  They have a boat.  Their kids don't have behavior issues.  What am I doing wrong? And the list goes on and on, indefinitely.  Or, at least, it could.  And the