Lara

Just Being

2011-05-25T15:25:00.000-07:00

I am an organized person. I like To Do lists and calendars. I get tremendous satisfaction out of putting a check mark by something I have accomplished, or crossing it off my list entirely.

But lately I have been thinking about how many times that To Do list stares me down and does nothing but make me feel guilty. (I gave up guilt for Lent last year, so guilt and I have a better relationship than we used to, but it still rears it's ugly head now and then.) And I started to pay attention to the outside sources that add to this angst. I noticed that every women's magazine I enjoy talks about three main topics: how thin I can make my body, how perfect my skin can be, and how I can still have a Martha Stewart home without hurting my budget or waste my time. I noticed that what I read about getting writing done was simply about MAKING the time and being more disciplined. And I saw that when it came to spiritual topics, I was not putting God first because I am not up at 4 a.m. praying for hours and reading my Bible every night before bed.

I have been attempting to take the advice of the resources just mentioned and quite frankly, my To Do list is way too long and I am exhausted.

So here is my question: Whatever happened to simply JUST BEING?

I have found that when I say that statement out loud, the response is usually a friendly, "Hmmm, yes," followed by a look or comment similar to, "But who has the time?" Okaaaay.

When did just being become the equivalent of laziness? Why should I feel that I won't match up if I don't spend an hour washing my face a certain way each night for "perfect, youthful" skin or exercise exactly an hour every day? Why do I feel that my writing will never amount to anything because I sat and played a board game with my daughter instead of writing my 1,500 words that day? Why should I feel guilty that my quiet time with God happens while I am driving around running errands and chatting with Jesus in my car instead of a set time and place?

When I say I like to just be, that in no way means I sit around staring all day. For me, just being means that I have my set goals for the day, but with the open minded attitude that when my friend calls and needs me to help her, I'm going to say yes. It means that when my child wakes up sick that day, I am going to not worry so much about how many words I get written in my book that day, but take time to snuggle and nurture that child. Just being means that I may find myself stopping to look at the sky that has the sun peeking through the clouds and thank God for his awesome hand on my life. I think we miss so much of what is important in life because we are so set on doing things the way others are, and we end up in some crazy competition before we even know it.

My daughter is 13 years-old and she teaches me something every single day. She is a great student, a responsible kid, and a loving person. She plays softball and loves it. Every year, when her regular season is over, she is asked to play on an All-Star team. For the last three years, she has politely declined. The coaches call me and beg and ask to let her play. I have to tell them that my husband and I have left the decision up to her every year. And every year, her answer is the same. "Thank you for the opportunity, but I am still a kid and I would like to have a summer. I want to swim with my friends, hang out with my family, and not be ruled by a schedule." Hmmm, I think she knows how to just be.

When I take the time to just be, I see the person God designed and I like her a lot more than the one with a To Do list in her hand and all the marks checked off.

The Known Factor

2011-03-07T14:05:00.000-08:00

I am a planner and a forward thinker by nature. I like to have a plan, and when that plan is altered, I am flustered until a new one is devised. Yes, I am a control freak and will own that as well about myself.

I tend to enjoy the known quantities of my day. My children go to school, I do my work, get things done at home, etc., go get them from school, go to whatever practices or events they need to attend, have dinner, do homework, read, and go to bed. I like structure. I like the KNOWN. I am extremely organized. I get upset when I go for an item, say a pair of scissors or some tape to wrap a present, and said items are not where they are supposed to be. My family says to me constantly, "Mom, do you know where my (random item) is?" The answer is always, "Yes, yes I do." Because I have either seen it recently and made a mental note of it, or I have been the one to put the item in it's designated spot. I like reliability, in myself and others.

Now, before you go thinking I am the most uptight person on the planet, (I'm really not), hear me out. I say these things because although I am wired to be in order, I also have an adventurous side. However, these two enjoy teasing and taunting one another in my brain.

I have recently been faced with a big decision to make and I find that these two parts of my personality are having quite a bit of fun with each other. The part of my brain that knows what is coming and is comfortable wants to stay put and make no changes. The adventurous part of me is nagging and saying, "Come on! This will be so much fun. It's time for a change." It's exhausting, quite frankly.

However, I feel myself listening more and more to my adventurous side. I know that the things I need to rely on will still be there: my husband's love, my children's joy, my friend's who care for me. These are the things that truly matter. With those things in tact, I believe I will let my adventurous side win this time. (It usually does ;-)

The Real Me

2011-01-31T18:00:00.001-08:00

For years I struggled how to answer people when they asked me what I do for a living. Wipe noses? Change diapers? Stroll the neighborhood with a double stroller jammed with my daughter and twin boys? Now I guess my answer would be more along the lines of drive to school, check homework, do laundry, and pack lunches or sports bags. But I always sensed that my generation didn't see staying home full time with my kids as a glamorous or sexy career choice. And I guess, in honesty, it's not. So I would try and make myself sound better. I would say I am a writer (which was and is true) and make whatever projects I was working on seem glossier than they really were. For too long I bought into the lie that a full calendar is a full life.

Then one day I decided to own my choice to stay home because it is intertwined with who I am. I don't ever remember having lofty career goals, but I do remember wanting a family and being a mom. I have been fortunate enough to not have to work outside my home, but it's more than that. It's how I'm wired. I like being home and doing laundry, paying the bills, making phone calls, and fixing what needs fixed. (Okay, maybe the bill paying is a stretch.) I love walking the dog or making soup for a sick friend. I love that when the kids get home from school I have a snack waiting and when my husband walks in the door, the scent of dinner in the oven wafts through the house.

I think our world is spinning too fast. No, not every day is exactly like the one I described above. In the spring my life is softball practice and games and football in the fall. But I love that too. And I try in every season of life to make sure that a calm, safe haven is what awaits for myself and my brood.

So now when people ask me what I do, my answer is "I'm a homemaker". A 1950's sounding word? Maybe. But I like it because I think it defines me in one word. I make a home. And a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and prayer go into that. I happen to write as well, but it's not the job I am most proud of. I receive no financial reward for my labor as a homemaker, but I can see in the faces of my family all the reward I will ever need.

The Battle For My Kid's Health

2011-01-08T08:59:00.001-08:00

My 12 year-old daughter walked by the other day and said, "My thighs are too big."

My head just about came off. This child is 5 feet, 5 1/2 inches tall and weighs about 95 pounds. She plays every sport imaginable and is the epitome of health. After I calmed myself down, I talked to her about why she viewed herself that way, and that her health and strength are positives. I told her - again - how comparing herself to anyone else is destructive and that God made her unique and individual. (Yes, I got the tween eye roll a few times, but I hope my message got through.)

She went upstairs to read and I sat on the couch, perplexed. Where in the world does she get this stuff? I enjoy fashion magazines sometimes, but I flip through them and get rid of them. The only ones allowed to stay in my magazine rack are Sports Illustrated, Natural Health, and Women's Day. And I am fairly sure she doesn't give those the time of day. And she watches TV, but quite frankly, a lot of sports and iCarly. Nothing that I can think is too damaging.

As far as her home life, her mother is a Certified Nutrition Consultant and her dad a former baseball player who is adamant about a healthy lifestyle. We talk with our kids about listening to what your body really needs, getting lots of fruits and vegetables, and I'm sure they are sick of the words "moderation" and "balance." Words like "skinny and fat" are banned from our home. I am adamant about making life about how we care for ourselves, our relationships, and not how we look.

My best guess at this point is that she is in 7th grade this year. She has gone to the same private school since pre-school and many of these kids I have seen grow from age 4 to age 12 and 13. And this year has been the most interesting to watch. They are going from round faced little kids to gangly tweens almost overnight. And for whatever reason, this age seems to be when they become extremely aware of how they look, as well as how everyone else around them looks. My daughter never once before cared if her clothes matched, if her shoes were the same as anyone else's, or if her hair looked remotely clean. Now she wants a hairstyle, a certain backpack from a specific store, and skinny jeans. Quite frankly, I am fine with all of the above, and I understand it as a part of growing up. But when did this obsession with weight and being thin truly begin?

I said to my husband the other day that I don't ever remember talking about or even thinking about calories, fat, or fat and skinny when I was growing up. I grew up with a dad who never stopped moving. He loved to play basketball, tennis, lift weights, and swim. And I believe whole heartedly he did it because he loved it, not because he was counting calories and needed to watch his weight. My mother taught us to eat healthy and, although we were allowed to watch TV, we spent most of our time outside riding bikes, swimming, or playing. But I have no memories of conversations that centered around weight or being thin.

I was enlightened not long ago at a middle school event at my daughter's school. There was a back to school barbecue before the high school football game that evening. A group of moms, including myself, helped pass out hot dogs, chips, fruit, and cookies. I happened to be at the end of the line serving cookies. As I stood and asked each person if they would like a cookie, I noticed that most people looked at the cookie in my hand as if it were a live grenade. And I heard comments like, "No, I shouldn't," or "Well, I'll have one, but it's a good thing I got on the treadmill this morning," or "That has WAY too many calories." And these were comments from 12 year-olds! And not just from the girls. I left the event in shock. I sat at the football game later talking to my friend, who happened to be serving the fruit, about how no one seemed to think that the entire meal wasn't all that healthy, except for the fruit, but no one seemed to mind eating the rest of it. The cookie was the evil one. I went home feeling sad and somewhat hopeless. One of the girls in my daughter's class I know has struggled with an eating disorder and I only wonder how many more do as well.

So where are they learning it? Can we blame the media? I realize that the hot topics in our country are obesity and weight, but is that the true problem? Are we as parents not teaching our kids about confidence in who they are without ever involving their looks? Or are we simply battling their peer group which at times can seem absolutely unbeatable? Is it because we as adults get just as sucked-in to how society tells us we should look at a certain age or how fast we women are supposed to lose our baby weight after having kids? (I think the latest I read is 3 weeks - ridiculous.) I truly wish I knew.

What I do know is that I struggled with my weight for a long time and only recently learned something about myself. And it was as simple as a friend saying to me, "You're not fat." Those words have changed my entire view of myself. I realized that for almost 20 years I have viewed myself as a fat person who needs to always be working at losing weight, reaching a number, or looking a certain way. I have always focused on a healthy lifestyle, even studying Nutrition to be more educated. But as soon as I said to myself, "I'm not fat," my whole perspective changed. Do I want to take care of myself and be healthy and strong? Absolutely. But am I fat? No. I let two comments from unkind people in the past stick with me for SO long and make me believe that I was something I am not.

So for me, I am going to attempt to teach my children that their goal in life is not to be skinny, or not end up fat. Their goal is to care for the body God gave them, trust that their body is designed and created to tell them what it needs, and that life is not about how they look. Can I battle the juggernauts that are the media and peer pressure and win? Maybe not. But I will go to my grave trying.

Sundance 2010 - Day Two

2010-01-29T06:38:00.000-08:00

We didn't see a movie until 3 p.m. today so we walked around Main Street strolling through shops and lunching at Flannagan's Irish Pub.

These were the movies we saw:

The Dry Land

This is a look at how PTSD affects soldiers returning from war. It was authentic in its depiction of PTSD and I appreciated the fact that no political statements were being made. Lack of background music throughout much of the film made it tense and realistic.

James has just returned home to Texas from Iraq and says he is fine but tends to have outbursts of uncontrollable anger and rage. Unable to articulate to his wife or friends what is wrong, he goes in search of the only two soldiers who survived – along with James – when a bomb hit their vehicle. James has no memory of what happened and convinces one of the soldiers to remind him, causing even more despair.

This movie touches on how difficult it is for soldiers to return home and fall back into the life they left behind.

It’s a Wonderful Afterlife

British director, Gurinder Chadha, tells a humorous and sometimes gruesome tale of an Indian woman living in the Little India section of London who is desperately trying to marry off her daughter. Intertwined with a murder mystery, this story shows that it is possible to be loved for who you truly are, not just how you look. It was quirky, funny, and highly enjoyable.

Holy Rollers

This is a story of Sam Gold, a 20 year-old Hasidic Jew trying to find his place in the world. He desires to be a Rabbi and marry and have a large family, but instead he gets involved with his best friend’s older brother smuggling ecstasy from Amsterdam to New York. This causes him to question his faith as well as what he is truly destined to be in life.

I found this film interesting in seeing Sam struggle to hold onto his faith and yet want to feel he has something separate from his family. It was slow at times though and sad to watch Sam’s life spiral out of control.

Sundance 2010 - Day One

2010-01-27T22:07:00.000-08:00

Everyone is wrapped in scarves and coats. Each person carries a bright orange booklet that says Sundance Film Festival. It’s snowy, it’s cold, and it’s absolutely perfect.

We saw our first film today in the Eccles theater which seats about 1,200 people. It looks like the old theaters that have a big balcony and a stage. The Director of Sundance introduces the film, the lights go down, and the story begins.

We saw a film called “Nowhere Boy” about John Lennon in his teenage years. Raised by his Aunt and Uncle, he is unaware that his mother lives only a few blocks away. When he discovers her nearby, he develops a relationship with her, bringing answers to light about his upbringing.

Whether you like John Lennon or not, this is an interesting film to see. Whenever I hear about John Lennon, I picture the cover of his “Imagine” CD – a man with a long, narrow face, long hair and round rimmed glasses. This film shows an entirely different side of Lennon. It shows a rebellious teen, struggling to find himself amidst a confusing childhood, and looking to music for comfort and a place in the world. It is a story of love, forgiveness, and family.

Saying Goodbye

2009-08-11T14:22:00.001-07:00

My mom just called to tell me that my dad's best friend from high school died of a massive heart attack yesterday. He was 64 years old. My dad and mom met Walt when they were freshman in high school and was on the basketball team with my dad. He was a tall man with a huge smile, a kind spirit and a tremendously infectious laugh. He was a faithful friend.

I first met Walt when I was about 4 years-old. I had just woken up from a nap and he was standing there in his socks, holding a soda and talking to my dad on the back porch of our house in Florida. We had a lot of construction workers walking around the house because we were doing a renovation. I remember going up to my dad and asking him in a whisper why one of the workmen was standing there in his socks? Walt heard me and chuckled. I heard his laugh and saw his smile and liked him instantly.

As I get older, I realize that my parent's friends and family are at an age where I am having to say goodbye to them. And some of them way too soon. This is tough for me one a few levels. Saying goodbye is difficult enough, but for me these people helped keep my dad's memory alive. They have memories of him that they share that make him less of a ghost. Walt was one of these people. As I say goodbye to him, I say goodbye to my dad all over again.

I have no idea where Walt stood spiritually. It is not my job to judge another person's heart. But I pray from the bottom of my heart that he is, right now, shooting hoops with my dad, his laughing ringing through the courts of heaven.

Doing What You Love

2009-08-06T19:20:00.000-07:00

I was talking with a friend recently about how tough the publishing business can be. My friend was expressing her frustration with the music industry where she has worked as a singer and songwriter for the past 10 years. Both of us were in agreement that it is tough to truly do what you love sometimes when you are trying to make a living at those things. She has been very successful but is now taking time off to have children and slow down. Part of her decision to take a break also came from feeling that she became a part of a system that only asked her to produce songs that people wanted to hear instead of what came from her heart and she struggled with that.

I think that is a common and quite sad reality for those of us who live and work in creative fields. I have a novel written and can't seem to find the right publisher for it. I understand the publishing business and know that I am certainly not alone. But I struggle when I hear what publishers are looking for and it seems solely based on what is selling. Now, I was not born yesterday. Money is key. I get it. But I mourn the fact that the creative process is hurt so badly by this. Do I think my book is a bestseller? Not necessarily. But I think it's a nice story that some people may enjoy. (And yes, people besides my mother.) And I have talked with my agent about changing it to fit more of what publishers are looking for. But we always seem to come back around to not changing it just to make it what people want. This then changes what it was originally created to be. (And I thank God every day I have an agent who believes in me and loves my story as it is.)

Yes, I know we need things written because there is an audience for it. But I hope and pray that there are many out there who sit down and pound out stories each day or write songs or paint paintings because they were formed by a tremendously creative God to do so.

Too Much Information

2009-07-28T20:29:00.001-07:00

I am an info and techie junkie. I live and die by my iPhone, my computer and anything electronic. However, I have been thinking lately how too much can really be overwhelming. It seems as if we get news now before it even really happens. Gone are the days when a story wasn't published until the writer truly had the entire story - or enough of it anyway.

My latest problem has been with movies. One of my favorite parts of going to see a movie is to see the trailers. But these days, that is not enough. There are now so many clips from movies on uTube that you can see most of the movie before the actual movie comes out. I admit that I am a fan of the Twilight Saga books and now movies. I caved and watched two new clips from the New Moon film the other day and I truly regret it. If I can't wait for the movie, then I have learned to be as impatient as the rest of this generation. And I don't want to kill the experience of sitting in a theater and enjoying the experience for the first time, in complete form.

I also find it frustrating to read about a new film in a magazine and get excited to see it, only to find out that it doesn't come out for another year or more. By the time it is released in theaters I have seen or read so much about it that many times I lose interest, or the actual product is a letdown.

So I have decided to try my best to read what I can, but resist the temptation to see every second on uTube of movie clips and trailers, or read every word of an article. This will be difficult, I know, but as a movie and reading-aholic, I want to make sure I experience these works of art as they were meant to be experienced.

Saturday

2009-06-27T10:09:00.001-07:00

There is something about Saturday morning that it truly different than any other. Even in the summer when each day begins to feel just the same as the next - lazy and mellow.

Today I woke up to my dear, sweet husband making me poached eggs - my absolute favorite. As I sat there enjoying my wonderful meal I was taken back to when I was a little girl. Saturday mornings were full of breakfasts like that, listening to my dad's tools whirring as he worked on the house, and playing in the pool with my sister. We played a lot as a family when I was young and I am grateful for that because I know now how to play a lot with my kids. I think playing is important, no matter how old you are.

We are going later today to the movies (one of my all-time favorite things to do) and see Transformers. My boys are out of their minds they are so excited. We will have a leisurely dinner somewhere and enjoy the summer weather. Yes, Saturday is a beautiful thing.

My Children's Health

2009-06-25T19:58:00.000-07:00

I took my daughter today to the doctor to be tested for asthma. She hasn't had any major episodes, but she complains periodically when she is playing sports that her chest hurts and it's hard to breathe. The diagnosis was sports and allergy induced asthma.

This is truly not a big deal. And yet I found myself last night unable to sleep, my anxiety level high about all the things that could go wrong with my kids and their health. I felt almost a sense of panic at just having to go into the doctor's office. My children, for the most part, are extremely healthy. In fact, the doctor today asked if we were seeing another physician because it had been so long since we had been in the office. I told her we were not "cheating" we just had healthy kids.

This got me thinking. Am I so comfortable in my cushy existence that I become paranoid at the thought of anything going wrong? There are many other things I worry about as a mom, but why does the subject of their health send me into a mental tailspin? I wonder if it is because of the things that in my mind, I can't control. Granted, I cannot control skinned knees or my daughter's bruises after a softball game. But I don't struggle with those - to me, those are simply a part of life. But what about cancer and diabetes? We don't know exactly what causes then and we desperately search for cures.

I see moms who deal with this every day and I am in awe. I have a dear friend who has a son with autism. She faces it every, single day. I watch her and I am brought to tears at the thought of the selfless attitude she has in caring for her son. She does it with an authentic knowledge of how difficult it is, but without complaint. She is my hero.

My daughter was subdued after her doctor's appointment today. We talked of how she felt there was something wrong with her and she didn't like that. We talked about being grateful for how healthy she is and how this was as simple to deal with as a spray from an inhaler once before each softball practice or game. We prayed for kids with much more to deal with in their lives and for their families. I pray from a mother's heart (and a woman's) that she will continue to see the importance of exercise and healthy eating in a society that is obsessed with only how the outside of a person looks.

I am in no way less stressed tonight than I was last night. But I am grateful. I am grateful that mild asthma was the diagnosis. I am grateful for my friend who shows me daily what a real mom looks like. I am grateful that God knows exactly what my children will face in their lives, and that He is good and He is faithful.

Summer

2009-06-24T15:43:00.000-07:00

I love summer. I hate the heat, but I love not having an agenda or being run by the clock. I love not having to pack lunches or get on my kids to do homework. I love staying up late with my husband watching our favorite TV shows on DVD. I love ice cream cones in the afternoon and lazy naps on the sofa.

My kids and I at various times will say that we are bored. I was thinking about this the other day and realized that the world would probably be a better place if we all relaxed our schedule enough to actually get bored every once in a while. It makes me sit and stare at the sky contemplating - well, anything. I find that my brain is not quite so full and I am able to enjoy what is around me - my kids laughing, talking with my friends, or even just time alone in quiet.

When I begin to think about the upcoming fall schedule and all that heads my way, I feel the stress rise in my chest and I have to remind myself to soak it up now because as wonderful as it may be, the summer will not last forever.