Disconnected. What Being Offline Reminded Me

Life without blogging, or social media, or even cell phone service. Yes it can be done!

Imagine how we lived without it. But recent moments have reminded me just how truly dependent we have become on those technologies.

I took an unplanned pause from blogging recently due to a major, unplanned project at work (read: ebola crisis communications). I told my kids that "Mommy has homework to learn about a yucky disease." My unscheduled moments were spent learning everything I could about the disease and developing a communications plan that was a flu epidemic plan on steroids. And I hadn't even touched the employee no-show issues before I left for fall break. So far, we'd been blessed to not have a case in the Midwest.

While blogging admittedly takes time to do, what I didn't anticipate was the drop in my "social" social media use, too. Instead of checking out my friends' latest escapades and connecting with them online, I refocused my attention to the social media use of work. And I learned it's tough disconnecting completely once you've trained your brain that way. On Fall Break, I sent the disaster coordinator and media manager a text about the second ebola patient, to which I was reprimanded to go back to vacation. And here, I thought a 48-hour media blackout on my part was completely remarkable.

It's taken me some time to re-adjust to a life without relying on the Internet and my smart phone. On day 3, we got a group text on an update on a crisis. Immediately I responded with "What do I need to monitor." And I am so glad I was re-reminded to unplug and go back on vacation.

It wasn't until day 5 until I could get on Facebook - to post some of my kids' pictures - without having the gut reaction of "There's activity on the work page; I need to check it" as I react multiple times a day. I am blessed to work with colleagues who are more than capable of filling in on customer service and other concerns in my absence, and I need to trust them.

My moment of realization, though, was on our return trip home. My husband, a loyal Royals fan for decades, was tracking Game 4 on his ESPN app while I drove. KC was one out away from the World Series. And Sprint service cut out. For a long 30-minute drive, my husband sadly stared at the red X at the top of the bars and waited. No text updates from his parents. No way to call them. Nothing but wonder.

And that's when it hit me. Just a few short years ago, we would have caught the scores on the radio when they came on, or saw the headlines later. Or, like my 6-year-old does each morning, ask another person "Did we win? What was the score?"

We don't always have to be recording the moment, or getting an app to track the moment. Sometimes, we can just connect with the moment. Just us. In person. Enjoying it all with our senses.

Failure is an Option

Letting your child fail is a difficult decision. No parent wants to deliberately allow their child to do so. But perhaps we should.

Tonight, I am watching my daughter audition for Shrek the Musical, in a local production. We watched the musical this summer for a review for Indy Social Media Moms, and she fell in love with the story and the characters. And when we learned a small group was producing Shrek on our side of town, she jumped on the opportunity to audition.

My daughter has a will. I was worried about the way.

We managed the issues of cost (the group asks for parents to contribute financially to the production, rather than fundraise) and schedules (we had committed to sports at school, but found a way to make it work.) My daughter even decided that trying out - and winning a part in Shrek - was worth the loss of a birthday party, seeing her brother's games and other sacrifices she would make the next 10 weeks. She picked out a song - the school's song of the year - and I found a copy of the CD at the public library for her accompaniment in the tryout.

This morning, we practiced in the car. And while she's in tune (one point over her mother), she certainly doesn't have the power in her voice. She was drowned out time and again by her little brother.

Tonight, I will watch my daughter audition, full knowing that she only has about a 50 percent chance of the part (based on the number of tryout slots). Full knowing that her voice isn't as strong as her possible competition for a role (more so for Fiona than for the Wicked Witch, her #2 choice). Tonight, I could very much watch my daughter pour her heart into something she wants, knowing that she could very well fail.

But failure is an option.

And those fears become very real in those moments before sleep. As I was tucking my daughter in bed, my daughter, with sad eyes, said, "Mom, what if I don't get a part?"

The very worry I had for her.

And I told her, "Just sing your best, and do the very best you can do, and your dad and I will be proud. And if you don't get a part? You can always try the Girl Scout program on theaterif you do want to learn more about acting, and we can try again another time."

That seemed to satisfy her. Knowing that her mom, who messed up a very bad rendition of Stand By Me for a musical tryout in high school, still turned out ok probably helped too.

It's OK to not be the star in every role. My daughter is an awesome chef at the age of 9. She's a less awesome kickball and soccer player. What kind of actress she does or doesn't become remains to be seen.

It's OK to fail. It's OK to be disappointed. Disappointments and failures will happen in life, and it's how we manage those that matters.

Summer fun on crutches #summerfamilyfunparty

Last Wednesday I got the call from camp that no mom wants to hear: An ambulance was coming for my daughter, who couldn't move her leg after a fall at camp.

This comes just days after my dear husband wound up in a sling after moving his arm just right (or wrong) while playing with our son.

And then this weekend my friend posts her photo of date night with hubby gone horribly wrong when she fell:

So summer fun - which usually looks like pools, long hikes and bike rides - has suddenly taken a significant turn.

Injuries happen. Life happens. But as a parent, how can you keep your summer from evolving into weeks in front of the television or computer when your child is hurt?

A little creativity is what counts.

Does being on crutches mean my daughter can't enjoy summer day camp? Hardly. The day after her knee strain, she was on the way to the zoo. I checked online, and wheelchairs were available. The kids fought over who would push her that day, and she had a blast.

When we go on our summer vacation and hit the St. Louis Zoo and other St. Louis attractions, we'll take the same tactic. Renting a wheelchair for your injured child - even if there is a fee - allows your child to still enjoy most of the experience, and it prevents them from overuse injuries and tiredness as a result.

Bring out the forgotten gifts and toys. As going up and down the stairs is a one-time-a-day activity right now, I've had a chance to take advantage of this "special time" and go through her room. I've found several arts and crafts activities and kits from Christmas and birthday gifts that I'm bringing out to help her pass the time.

Rethink your summer child care options if and when you can. The day I got the call about the ambulance, I was planning to drop off camp fees for tae kwon do camp. Obviously that's out. So I've been creative in filling in the last of the empty weeks for child care, including finding Vacation Bible Schools in the morning - an opportunity to meet new kids - and hiring a high school student to watch them in the afternoon. That being said, I have no concerns about sending her to the camps she's already scheduled for; it's just a matter of her being able to balance rest time too.

Rethink their socialization ideas. Play dates at the park, needless to say, are going to be limited the next few weeks. Instead, we changed her Harry Potter sleepover party (for which she was actively planning things like broom races!) to a low-key party at the local frozen yogurt shop. We'll probably have movie dates with buddies rather than invite them to the pool as she heals.

Check out the summer reading program. Even if you don't have a bookworm, encourage your child to explore new ideas through the library's summer reading program. Many times the local library offers programs for children and teens, and they are all wheelchair-accessible per the ADA. Encourage your budding reader with prizes for reading a certain number of minutes. (Our library offered haunted house passes!) And I'm not above a little healthy competition among siblings either. You could also encourage your child to read on a certain theme with a family outing tied to it if they reach the goal. (Space junkies could go to the planetarium, etc.)

Explore new ideas. Buy a science kit. Look up projects on Pinterest. Teach your kids to bake cookies. Earn a Scout badge. Take advantage of this time and the usual summer boredom to try a new activity.

Don't forget the well kids. It's not their fault their sibling is injured. Prevent resentment by allowing them special times to do the things they enjoy. Taking my first-grader on a bike ride, just the two of us, was just what was needed to turn his attitude about his sister's situation around.

What are your favorite indoor summer survival tactics? Join our Link-Up here.

An InLinkz Link-up

Join us for #summerfamilyfunparty on Wednesdays at:

• http://www.alifeinbalance.net
• http://writtenreality.com
• http://lifeinahouseoftestosterone.com
• http://www.nepamom.com
• http://apronstringsotherthings.com/
• http://www.mommalewsblog.blogspot.com
• http://www.funfindsforfamilies.com
• http://coconutheadsurvivalguide.com/blog/
• http://going-green-mama.blogspot.com
• http://oboyorganic.com/blog/
• http://www.superexhausted.com/
• http://blog.HomeroomAtHome.com
• http://www.supermommyclub.com
• http://www.thevintagemom.com

Don't take anything for granted

"Don't take anything for granted," the woman on the sidewalk said as I admired the cross in her hand.

She knew. This elderly woman, cleanly dressed, was wandering the streets of Fountain Square and trying to gather her courage to ask for a handout. Having no cash on hand, my husband went back to the car to get the leftovers of the anniversary dinner we had just celebrated.

"Don't take anything for granted."

A week later, my husband announced that after five years, he was going to cease attending church. He has yet to give a reason. The days of our family attending together, not to mention the example he is setting for the kids, changed in minutes.

"Don't take anything for granted."

A week ago, I get a cryptic email from my mother, who said she had a heart attack, drove to the emergency room and had surgery. By the grace of God, no one was hurt while she was driving, and she was released from the hospital last week.

"Don't take anything for granted."
It's so easy in this flurry of activities: the sports, work, the housework, family...that anything would upheave the patterns. But the reality is it can.

This morning, the local news shared of construction crews killed at work and a boy who had died after running in front of an ATV. In minutes, a person's life can change unexpectedly.

So this small word of warning, from a stranger on the street, is a grave reminder to take each moment for the blessing it is.

Dating the demon Depression

I do not know the day I lost my husband. Was it when he lost his job in the recession? Another more innocuous moment? Was it a gradual erosion of his spirit, or just a moment that sucked him of his soul?

I've been with this man for two decades, but I have been dating someone for about four years. His name is Depression.

I don't know the exact moment Depression crept into our lives. But I know he's taken a larger and larger stronghold on us all. He's robbed us of what should be happy moments, of our sense of peace, our spirituality, our home. I lie awake at night and wonder how much longer my husband has before he is completely lost.

I don't know why Depression moved in. Was it genetic. Was it a chemical imbalance. Was it situational and is my husband stuck in a cycle. But the fact is, Depression is there, and he's not budging.

And we're working to kick him out.

I don't know what happened in that horrible moment a few weeks ago, when my husband broke his silence and admitted to his struggle of the last four years. And the darkness was deeper than I had ever dreamed.

We've been able to see his physician, get him counseling. But our war against Depression is a daily struggle. Some days getting out of bed is a struggle for him.

Yes, my home shows the scars of these last four years. Some day, the repairs will be completed, the clutter and chores overcome. Our bills from the moments when he didn't even process life will be eventually caught up too. One day, he'll be back in school, and we will be proud to call him a college graduate.

I worry though about the toll it takes on my kids. They see mommy's stress. They feel daddy's sadness. They are victims to the resulting chaos and the hectic juggle.

Some day, I'll be able to explain to them about Daddy beating Depression, and I hope they'll understand.

Sometimes there is a happily ever after

Friday night, our children were just getting ready for bed, and I heard banging on the door. I checked the keyhole, and two strangers were at the door. But I felt a nudge to open it anyway.

It was a woman who had been kicked out of her home across the street four years ago.

This woman had been through the darkest of times. A single mother since age 16, she was raising two children alone and had rented a home. She had just lost her job, and had sent her entire tax refund to her landlord to pay ahead on her rent. Unbeknownst to her, the landlord hadn't been paying his bills, either, and she was evicted by the sheriff.

Tonight, though, it wasn't a night to troubleshoot problems. It was a time to celebrate success.

Despite all the many challenges she had faced - many of which I won't even share here - we saw a light in her. A goodness. And so much potential not yet even tapped. We were her village as she tried to raise two children. And we hated she disappeared.

But something happened along the way. One neighbor's quiet gift helped her with tuition to nursing school - and she's set to graduate soon. And she's making plans to return to our neighborhood, this time as a homeowner.

Sometimes, there is a happily ever after.

2012 in Review

Snowflakes falling out my window. I love seeing them on a working afternoon.

That somewhat simple thing is just one sign of the many changes I've seen in 2012. I've been fortunate, looking back at all the positives coming my family's way.

I've shaved my commute time significantly the last few weeks. My son started pre-k at my daughter's school, eliminating a commute to a child-care provider each day. Our office (which has an actual window!) relocated to a few miles from my home recently, taking off even more time from my drive to work.

Our family has enjoyed the extra time at night - that 30 minutes can ease a lot of the chaos, giving us time to walk, make dinner or spend extra time with homework without racing through the motions.

We've had more time to explore the outdoors, hitting activities like Bug Fest (which we'll likely visit again in 2013),  exploring vermicomposting, and enjoying a stint at Girl Scout Camp. Our family even had a chance to travel, visiting Savannah, the Smoky Mountains and doing the Great Girl Scout hike.

We took a greater interest in our health, taking on a "Go Green Get Fit Challenge" (which we're starting back up for the new year!) and beginning a family journey on the use of essential oils. My love of essential oils has grown into a part-time business as well.

For the first time in a long time, I feel positive, not anxious, as I head into the new year. I am feeling more in control of my family's health, my journey toward fitness and cleaner living, and my spiritual state.

I wish you many blessings as we look to 2013!

Robbie @ Going Green Mama

The end of the world as I know it

So today ends the last day of "normal," if you believe the Mayan calendar. Funny thing is I'm hoping "normal" comes to a close pretty soon.

Everyone I know has been so wrapped up in the busyness of life - the hassles of work, the commutes, health scares, holiday shopping, school and children's events - that we've almost forgotten to enjoy life. We've been given such a gift in this world: the gift of being able to watch a sunrise, hug your child, hear the wind rustle through trees - yet we too often turn a blind eye to it all.

We're so wrapped up in our own worlds that we forget about our communities. Our local Salvation Army drive is at just 51% of donations needed this year just days before Christmas, and many other charities are begging for support to meet growing needs in our backyards.

But what if today we lived life as if it was the last day on this world? How would it be different?

These past few days I've been more cognizant of that idea - not because of the coming "end of the world" but just because of the uncertainty of life. I couldn't imagine that empty hole at Christmastime without my children by my side, as many Newton families are facing this year.

So I've been a little more focused on living my day as if it was my last. Extending a smile to stranger. Saying a prayer for those who hold signs looking for work along the highway. Remembering that the dishes left on the kitchen table by my husband really aren't the end of the world. Finding ways to share my bounty with  families in need, even if it means nagging my sick husband to fix an outgrown bike so it's ready to be under someone's Christmas tree.

So my challenge to you today: Live today as if it is truly your last. Because every moment matters.

Not my best week

Suffering from a spider bite and back pain from overlifting at work (saving two extra loads to the car was not worth it) this week. Add in evening Vacation Bible School and 484 emails to catch up on at work after summer camp, and it's a recipe for a worn-down mom. Promise I'll recouperate quickly and be back on the blog soon!

My great green friends

I have always been the wierd neighbor. I spend more time on my veggie garden than my landscaping. I have an attempt of a compost bin in my yard. I save seeds and recycling from my office.

Most of my friends shake their head. "I'm proud you actually spent time on your front yard," one told me the other day. They simply don't understand.

My haven has been online. The friends I've made through the Green Phone Booth and other green blogs help motivate me to stay on the path toward sustainability, even when work, volunteer and family committments divide my time.

But I'm happy to have found some great green friends at home, too. My happy accident was getting to know three wonderful women who became our Girl Scout Troop's co-leaders this year. Each brings her own talents, but what we've found is a common desire to help make our world safer for our children.

For the last few months, we've been brainstorming ideas for a water conservation badge series the girls will take on in Brownies next year. We share ideas, large and small, found over the internet and in copied library book pages. We cheer on each other when we stumble on a county-sponsored rain barrel workshop or composting classes. And we have big dreams. That our girls learn to love our world.

It's great to find camaraderie among women like these. And I'm blessed to be part of the group.

Overheard

"Go tell it on the mountain...'cause I'm getting nothing for Christmas."

Yet another reason why I love my child.

(Sometimes, you just need to start your day with a smile!)

Being Buggy

Four weeks, two rounds of antibiotics and more sinus and cough medicine than I care to count. I'm ready to be healthy again.

Early bedtimes and less than normal energy has taught me a few things this last month.

1) That sometimes life is out of your control. (Apparently I needed that refresher.)

2) That its OK to ask for help at times, or to say "enough."

3) That you don't have to be Supermom to be a super mom. Sometimes slowing down your schedules is what your family needs most.

Green Phone Booth: A Time of Need

As a parent of a first grader, I've struggled with a balance of staying informed with the news and opening my daughter to the reality of 9/11 and the questions I'm sure will follow. Rather than marking the 10th anniversary beyond what's said at our church on Sunday, we'll quietly remember it in our hearts and follow my child's lead if any questions arise.

One thing that has stuck with me this week is a comment I heard on the radio on turning 9/11 rememberances into a time of forgiveness. Others have talked about a time of prayer or a time of good works. All are remarkable ideas - turning our small sacrifices of a way to remember those who sacrificed their lives on that day.

Today at the Green Phone Booth, I'm reflecting on the anniversary and how it makes life's hassles seem so small. Join the conversation.

Fragile

Today I was reminded again and again just how fragile life can be.

I turned on the news to see a good friend's town engulfed in flames. I wasn't able to reach anyone until nearly 10 p.m. my time, when I finally reached her sister. Thankfully she is well, and her home is located between two of the shelters in Bastrop, Texas, so it appears to be out of harm's way.

Then I arrived at work and learned that a priest I'd known for years had passed away unexpectedly during the weekend. Fr. Ruta was such a friendly soul, and such a good servant of God.

And finally I learned tonight that a friend's mother has been diagnosed with cancer.

No matter the good times or bad, they can change in an instant. And that is why we have to have hope that things work out, in this world or the next.

Dear home association

Dear home association,

Today I received a letter from you stating that we were once again in violation of our shrub count on our property.

My 3 year old knows that 10 bushes and four trees on our little lot far exceed the minimum eight bushes and two trees required by our agreement. All of my bushes are indeed alive, though they've taken a toll by our harsh summer. (I for one, would have loved to have had my blueberry bushes produce, but the hailstorms followed by the heat meant we got fewer berries than could fit in my hand.) Others are currently obscured by the fact that my black eyed Susans shot up to unforseen heights.

Before you waste my HOA fees again to mail me a letter, please visit my property when I'm here and actually pay attention. Or take kindergarten math. Your choice.

Sincerely,
Homeowners at lot 425

Unplugged

The last few weeks have been hectic. Company many weekends. Parties. Projects. A car wreck. Hail damage on our home. Home projects. Work projects. And kids.

Amid our frustrations an unwelcome thing occurred. Our phones and internet from Comcast have been on the fritz for the last several days. No checking something online. No quick calls (it's like playing roullette as to whether you'll get through.) No voice mails to be grabbed - as they don't go through.

But even with these headaches I've appreciated the quiet. I hd a welcome break from my late-night catching up on work emails. I've resisted the urge to "check one thing" on the computer. No phone calls interrupted our family at bedtime or dinner.

What did we do instead? Enjoyed family time. Evenings at the pool, playing in the sprinkler while mom weeded, long walks to the park. Kind of what summer should be about: slowing down.

Good dirty fun

(Or how we turned Camp Mom upside down)

This week was filled with great intentions. A week without daycare meant a much-deserved and even more-delayed week off with my children. Considering the last time I took more than few days off work was maternity leave with my 3 1/2 year old, even a week at home felt like a treat.

I had great intentions. Accumulated a stack of activity ideas, with themes even (not type A or anything), planned for play dates and managed to draft a menu for the week.

Only that sometimes life doesn't go as planned. A crazy campout, two sick family members, delayed playdates and obscenely hot (90-degree) weather for this time of year meant that the best plans were put to rest. As in, sometimes, you just rest.

And other days you make up for it.

We've dug in our garden. Weeded, dug up my Thai beans that were sprouting (thanks...), hunted down bugs and worms for our bug boxes.

We've maxed out our library card and have cranked out summer reading program points reading about insects, volcanoes (go figure), dinosaurs and fiction.

We've made pathetic attempts at recreating another blogger's ladybug cookies (note to self, next time just use your grandmother's sugar cookie recipe rather than an unknown as the cookie base), made yogurt parfaits using leftovers from the camping trip, sneaked marshmallows and stayed up too late.

We've played at the state park, spending hours at the playground, picking daisies (despite mommy's admonitions), watched the horses and coated ourselves in dirt in the process.

Sometime, our summer fun might include a trip or 10 to our pool, a visit to the zoo, a weekend to grandma's or other traditional fun. But for now, we'll settle for our uneventful, but good, dirty fun.

A little hail damage never looked so good

Given the craziness of this spring's weather, I'm grateful to live with a little hail damage on my car and a knocked-out porch light after yesterday's three rounds of tornado warnings and storms. Haven't taken a full tour of the property, but my loved ones are safe, and I can live with that.

Since the world is ending today...

Will the world end today or not?

If you ask folks Twitter, it's an excuse to charge their cards, drink up and party a bit more than normal. But maybe even the thought of the end of the world should be a time of reflection.

Today at the Green Phone Booth, I share five ways I wish I'd better enjoyed God's creation. The good news is, it's probably not too late.

What are yours?

When the rain, rain goes away

The last week or so, rains of varying degrees have hit our home. Morning drizzles. Afternoon showers. Nighttime thunderstorms.

After probably six inches or so of the precipitation I needed last fall to save my landscaping, I'm anxious for some sun. But I can't complain. Because in those instances when the rain does go away, I've been blessed with some magic moments.

Like stopping to watch a half dozen baby goslings struggle to hop up from the ditch into a flooded rainfield.

Or seeing the first "heart flowers," as my daughter calls them, of the spring, and seeing her pluck them lovingly off my plants to share with me.

Or taking a quiet walk - in the sun, no less! - at a retreat center on the way home from a funeral, the one non-rainy moment of the day.

Or taking a less quiet walk, getting splashed by my children, who have a knack of finding even the most miniscule of puddles.

Sure, I'd like the rain to stop. But sometimes, it's a reminder of the little moments that we otherwise take for granted.