Very Pinteresting

Pinterest has changed my life. Transformed it for the better like Jesus, yoga, meditation, and vacations . Pinterest is a visual learners salvation! It is the woman’s version of porn or fantasy football. I wish I had Pinterest when I was younger. Nobody taught me how to ‘enjoy’ housekeeping or planning meals. I would have been less of a slob, possibly a better cook, and by now would have tried all 101 ways to use coconut oil or vinegar. For the first time in my life I’m slowly learning how to be organized. I actually get a euphoric high off of order and space now. 

I have very little imagination when it comes to clothes. However, I bet if I had more money I’d have more imagination. If I go shopping, I look at what perfect size-0  mannequins are wearing then pray the seamstress made one of those outfits in my sizes. Pinterest has done the work for me. I scan the pinned pictures of clothes ideas. I note, “I’d look great in that hat, that sweater, and that purse. And thanks to Pinterest, I can tie a scarf 20 different ways now. As for the boots, not sure if they would fit over my calves, but I can dream!”

Even though I love to have company over, I break out in people pleasing-hives if I think too long about what to make that will satisfy my guests. I haven’t had to take a Benadryl since I started pinning everyone’s foodie ideas onto my Pinterest boards. If you know me well, you know that I am all about the food. I like crappy junk food, foods that will put you into a sugar coma, and I like healthy food too. Pinterest has everything for my split food personalities. Can’t you see me bringing these little deviled eggs for Easter? 

We have a little 1920’s bungalow house with lots of personality (but little closet space). Rich has his spaces and I have mine. However, I usually tell him where to go in those spaces. If Rich goes out of town, upon arrival back home he rarely notices  something has been rearranged, thrown out, or sold because it hasn’t been used in a year. His closet is under the stairs. One day, he’s going to come home it will look like this: My new office. Don’t feel so sorry for the guy. He has his own office in the house that he shares with his prized 10 piece drum set (that I refuse to dust). 

 

I was born in the wrong decade. Even though I was a typical child of the 70’s and hippies were still fashionable until Nixon left office. My personality of peace, love, and rock and roll were better suited for the 60’s. I would have marched on Washington, smoked lots of pot, ran away from home and joined a commune. I’m not kidding; those just were not my options in the 70’s. Pinterest speaks to the peace-loving activist in me.

There are Pinterest moments when I see an activist pin and I’m wishing someone would tell me when the buses are leaving for D.C. Some things never change when it comes to corruption, hunger, war, or discrimination. You think we’d learn by now. However, I’ve changed and will continue to speak up and out!  There will come a day when Rich or Kevin will need bail money for me. 

When it comes to ingenuity, Pinterest has everything: all the latest ideas. I just marvel at the brilliance of others. Some of the ideas are so simple. Most of the time I wish I would have thought of that. 

I love my husband, but once in a while I wish I could get married again. If I were younger, I’d get divorced and remarried (to him of course) just so I could force myself to lose weight to fit into a gorgeous Pinterest wedding dress. I’d spend hours pinning and planning wedding ideas for the special day. What is wrong with me?? Pinterest does this to your brain late at night when you can’t sleep and the man of your dreams is snoring. 

Pinterest reminds you never to forget. 

                                    Do I really have to explain why I want one of these?

                    I’m easily amused. Some days we all just need more fabulous in our lives! 

Just because I want to dress like I have style, or have strangers open my organized cabinets and think I’m an exceptional human being doesn’t mean I’m unhappy or obsessed. I’m very content.  

I accept and appreciate when Pinterest can 'reasonably' enrich my life and the lives of others. It's all very Pinteresting! I've learned that a well placed draped hammock can make the world a better place. 

If you’ve been on Pinterest long enough, there are different scenarios when women just nod and smile in the presence of other women. Women used to keep the Pinterest secret ideas to themselves (much like 50 Shades of Gray before everyone started blabbing). No words are necessary. Now the gig is up. Word is out! Our mothers had Good Housekeeping and Women’s Day. We have Pinterest. Thank you Jesus!!!

"Hi! I'm Kim. I'm A Recovering Co-dependent"

I need some accountability so I’m just putting it out there. I am a recovering co-dependent.

Here is how Wikipedia defines codependency: ‘the need to control another. It involves placing a lower priority on one’s own needs, while being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others. Codependency can occur in any type of relationship including family, work, friendship, also romantic, peer or community relationships. It may also be characterized by denial, low self-esteem, excessive compliance, or control patterns.’

Shut up Wikipedia! You don’t have kids!

Codependents mean well; they really do. So if you meet one, live with one, or have the good fortune to be in relationship, just know they come from an honest place. They are not trying to ruin your life. They see life experience in panoramic view. They zoom out and see all the ‘what if’s like a hawk circling from above. They are the self appointed caution signs in your life that say ‘merge’ ‘detour’ ‘stop hanging around those awful people!’ Most of the time they see things before you do and they want to protect you from immanent danger, debt, or injury to your soul. Advice rolls off their tongue like the words: snicker-doodle, hodge-podge, or leggo my eggo. Well, that’s how I explain my codependency. How do the rest of you recovering co-dependents see it?

When I was in my late teens, going into my twenties, I really wanted to be a mom. A few years later when I actually did get pregnant I thought it was the coolest thing in the world: like a science experiment. I was fascinated by what was going on inside of my belly week-to-week, month-to-month (until the stretch marks appeared). For 9 months I prepared for my child’s arrival with love. I hand painted life size Care Bears on his nursery walls. Made the yellow bumpers and blanket for his crib. And I also saved 300 Popsicle sticks (from my cravings) thinking one day we would make a craft. I was heavily invested in his comfort and happiness before he took his first breath. I was ready to be a mom. Or so I thought.

Hours before Kevin was born, while in labor, I had this overwhelming feeling I was going to screw this kid’s life up. What if something happens like a car accident or I left the cabinet door open and he drinks something poisonous? He would die and it would be all my fault--like every thing else (or so I had been conditioned to believe). Fear is the beginning seed for codependency. That, and I’m a first-born.

Every mom has her delivery story. I’ll spare you mine. After the initial screaming to get him out, and Kevin screaming as he entered this world, his father brought him over so I could give him his 'first' kiss. I thanked God that all his fingers and toes were accounted for and he didn’t have my grandfather’s nose.  He was perfect in my eyes and on the Apgar Score.

After a few hours of rest after the delivery I continued to wonder if I was going to be able to be a good mother. Panic and control were growing. No kidding, these were my first conscious thoughts after becoming a mother:  ‘What happens if he throws up? I hate throw up! What happens if he grows up and moves away? I am so in love with this little boy but I could die tonight and he doesn’t need me any more.’ Kevin wasn’t but a few hours old and I was already having separation anxiety. A black cloud of depressing thoughts hung over my head while I was learning how to quickly whip my boob back into a nursing bra while at the same time swaddle and cuddle my infant son. Nobody told me that being a parent meant I’d be responsible for every outcome of my child’s life good or bad. Nobody told me that others would be watching my every move waiting or expecting me to mess up. They told me that I’d have bigger hips, a messier house, no sleep for the next two years, and that I’d never really ever be able to get baby food stains out of my shirts again.

After Kevin fell asleep, I put him down on his back in the little hospital bassinet. Within minutes, he started throwing up clear liquid. Fearing he’d choke to death on his vomit I said, “Oh God, not throw up!” I leaped back off the bed picked him up and turned him on his side and gently patted his back while wiping his mouth. He cried, I cried. He was okay. I was okay. I held him to my chest and said, “I’ll always be there when you throw up Buddy. We can do this; you and me. I’m not afraid anymore.” From that moment on it was ‘game on’. I got this mom thing now.  

Ever after when something went wrong, I leaped up and I took care of it. And I did that for decades. Sometimes I’d leap up before something went wrong. I could instinctively tell something was going to happen-like a hawk. However, here’s the thing about hawks, they also have talons. Have you ever had a hawk land on your arm? Neither have I. But I imagine it’s painful unless you have protective padding.

Poor Kevin didn’t stand a chance with his co-dependent mom watching his every move. I learned very young how to control my world, Kevin’s world, and a few other people’s planets. If you were in my orbit you were gravitationally pulled in, to revolve around my fears, my expectations, or my happiness.  If I haven't already made amends, let me apologize once again! 

This brings me to why I am writing this. Kevin and his girlfriend, Maddi, are moving back home from Florida this weekend. It was a brave move. Kev is looking to get married in the near future and save up for a house and a family. In this economy, that is almost impossible to have traditional dreams without the support of family. My grandmother, G.G. lived with her family in the 30’s during the depression. For generations, families helped each other in good times and hard times. She would be proud of Kevin for sacrificing and preparing for his future by being proactive.

When Kevin was 19 we parted on difficult terms. It broke my heart, but it was time for him to fly. I left hawkish claw marks in his arm.  

This time around, I am hoping to do better. For the last 8 years, I’ve been learning how to individuate from my only begotten son. Trust me, it hasn’t been easy. I like being a mom. My heart feels full of love and I like to do nurturing things. I like helping and fixing. It comes naturally. Often I don’t even realize I’m doing it until I hear myself saying, “Hey, why don’t you----!” Parents always want to see their kids improve until the day they die. If you don’t, you’re boldface lying. 

When Kevin lived with me before, it was my job to manage his life (to a certain extent).  Parents are hands-on in the day-to-day life of their children. But my son is a man now. He has proven that he can take care of himself (and others). My role now is one of consultant. We let our adult children run their own business.  I need to ask permission if he wants advice. I need to ask, “How’s it going; what’s up? Can I be helpful to you? Would you like some feedback?” This will be super hard for me, because I give great unsolicited, advice! Really, it’s a gift.

 

Kevin deserves respect and autonomy; and frankly, so do I.  Honoring each other’s space and choices is what recovering co-dependents do. We get on with our own life. So how does a parent prepare for re-entry of their adult children moving back home? According to Debbie Pincus, who writes about how to keep your sanity when your adult children move back home: you clarify expectations and continue to have honest communication. Okay, got it! I can do that.

Please check in with me to see how I’m doing with my second chance at practicing recovery as a codependent mom. I’m a rare bird who actually loves feedback and advice (it is probably why I think everyone wants it too).

One of my favorite books on parenting (very Zen stuff) comes from The Parent’s Toa Te Ching: Ancient Advice For Modern Parents. I wish I had had this book while Kevin was growing up. It is the perfect resource for recovering co-dependents.

Page 28: Be Alert and Mindful: If you would be a wise parent be careful in all you do and say. Know that each action, each word, has it’s effect. Be alert and mindful, living fully in each present moment. Treat your children with courtesy as you would treat a guest. Be ready in a moment to let go of one plan and embark on another if your inner voice so urges. Have room within your heart to hear the voice of both your children and your own spirit. Do not expect fulfillment from events or people outside yourself. Welcome and accept things as they are. Welcome and accept children as they are. Treat yourself with gentle care. These qualities emerge naturally, not by force of will.

Welcome Home again Kevin (and Maddi). Come and just 'BE'. ~ Love mom

                                                           

Sweet Home Chicago

Living in the suburbs, I don’t get to downtown Chicago very often. But when I do, I always ask myself why don’t I go more often? You’re probably thinking what I’m thinking: traffic jams, outrageous parking fees, or homeless people asking for money. I may be partial, but I think I live near the coolest city in the world, regardless of her flaws. As soon as I see the skyline heading in to Chicago, there is an energy shift in my being. I get amped up and can’t wait to see what the city has to offer. Usually it is hours of people watching, dodging cabs and buses and lawyers and stockbrokers. As a visitor, I accept the metal screech of braking from the el train in the loop, and the indescribable nonstop hubbub of activity. If I have time, my personal favorite, is block after block of window-shopping (which I never tire of, if I have good shoes on). I can smell pizza and Chicago style hot dogs wafting through the air, along with a dusty scent of chocolate. That’s right, chocolate.

As kids, my parents put us on the train and sent us to Chicago. My jovial Grandmother Melley met us at Union Station ready to show us a good time. She and my aunt and uncle showed us the city during the daytime and in the nighttime. Have you ever seen Buckingham Fountain after sunset? When you’re 9 years old, it is magical. I was never scared. Gram took us to the zoo and all the museums. We’d ride the elevators of their high-rise buildings and build sandcastles at the beach while eating fried chicken, grapes, and oatmeal cookies. I had my first date with Rich at the Sears Tower (never to be called Willis Tower). Afterwards we went and had dessert at the Hyatt and had our first kiss walking back to our car. Chicago will always hold a special place in my heart.

Kevin came home this month. It had been a while. He brought his girlfriend Madison. It was a wonderful excuse to show her our favorite city. We went to all the typical tourist places. When you only have a few days, you hit the best hotdog stand, zoo, a couple of museums, Navy Pier, Gino’s Pizza, Millennium Park, Buckingham Fountain, the Magnificent Mile, and rest your dogs by Segway-ing your way along LSD. And the weather was ideal. 

It was fun watching Kevin show Maddi his kind of town. They are in love and happy. I wanted to have them pause and take the moment in and remember it. One day they won’t be as starry-eyed as they are right now. They will have to work at their relationship: to take care of themselves and each other, learn to accept each other in Herculean ways, be intentional about having fun when they are tired, and find their way back to each other again because they forgot that love is pretty simple—love always returns when you put your heart into it. When they were up on the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier (in cart #30), I looked up and smiled as they went higher and higher above the city. It was a perfect evening. I was taking it in and hoping they were too. But in case they didn’t, here is a little YouTube video I made so they can remember sweet home Chicago. http://youtu.be/WACTiHpn0q8

What's On My Nightstand

Last month my blog was a hot button: Why I Left The Right. And next month’s blog will probably be a tropical Facebook storm because I’ve been wanting to write something on the Gay Issue. But not before I have my last Chick-Fil-A. Just kidding! Or am I??? July has enough heat of its own, so I’m not going to add to the barometric opinion pressure. However, once again, I’m going to bare my soul. This shouldn’t get me into too much trouble. Nobody will probably de-friend me over this month’s topic….drum roll please…What’s On My Nightstand. 

Where do I even begin? Let me just start by saying I can’t even see dust! 

1)   1-bottle of Smart Water to make me smart of course, duh!

2)   4-scrunches for my hair when it gets hot and I can’t stand it on my neck anymore. And because I am too lazy to put them away in the bathroom downstairs.

3)   1-pair of blue fluffy socks. It’s July in Chicago—the AC runs 24/7.

4)   Count’em, 3-remote controls. I won’t bore you what they are for.  

5)   1-coaster that I hate to the core of my being. If I have anything with ice in it, the coaster will stick to the glass. Then a condensation waterfall will inevitably spill on me or the bed. I’ve had these cheap coasters since we’ve moved in 7 years ago. I am still looking for the perfect coaster to match my nightstand (which you can’t even see).

6)    Random post-it notes to remind me of a great quote to file. My favorite one that pertains to me would be: 'Don't own too much clutter that you will be relieved to see your house catch fire.' 

7)    1-card from Rich that had to do with wine and chocolate and other stuff you probably don’t want to hear about.

8)      1-Saje essential oil peppermint halo wand (it looks like a pen). I found it while in Vancouver BC in June. Thanks to fluctuating perimenopausal hormones and heat, I have had more headaches this summer. Take the halo wand or any pure peppermint essential oil and put a drop on your temples and then around the base of your skull. It works wonderfully. Just wash your hands afterwards so you don’t blind yourself when you forget and touch your eyes. That advice was free! Your welcome!

9)        1-compression wrap for my finger when I busted it in May.

10)   1-black charger for iPad and iPhone. This comes in handy when I forget to plug in my electronics downstairs. However, I have to remember to bring the iPhone and iPad upstairs. I do dislike the reddish glow one tiny speck of light from the power button gives my bedroom. The jury is out on whether it’s staying.

11)     3-yoga music CD’s. 2-Meditation CD’s I have yet to upload into my computer and on to my iPod. First I need to make space on my 5 yr. old iPod, so what’s the point? The CD’s are there to remind me to finish that task soon.  

12)  1-picture of my nephew Thomas that I found in a yoga book. I read it two years ago while in AZ for training. Thomas gave me the picture and I used it as a bookmarker. Thomas is in his hockey uniform. I haven’t seen him since this picture was taken and I miss him.

13)  2-yoga books: 1-on philosophy and 1-yoga therapy book on Hips & Shoulders. Those books  I’m actually reading.

14)   Earplugs (cuz Rich snores).

15)   1- Band-Aid that has been there since God only knows. My memory is a little foggy as I  approach 50. My best guess is it was used to protect a fingernail that needed to be saved in the morning.

16) 1Basket -You may be wondering what the heck is in the basket? I am too. It is full of   miscellaneous items that found a long-term home: Meaning there is more dust.

a)    My Gratitude Journal. I try to write in it 5 things I’m grateful for a day. However, I write more like once or twice a week in it. Not because I’m not grateful, it’s because I’m well…where is my phone??

b)   1-brochure of a yoga studio in town. 4-yoga DVD’s that I’ve yet to review: Yoga Fit Level 1, and Gaiam’s Detox and Flow Yoga, Relax & Restore, and Yogalosophy. That’s a yogalotastuff.

c)    My favorite book on parenting: The Parent’s Tao Te Ching, Ancient Advice for Modern Parents by William Martin. I wish I ‘d had this book when I was raising Kevin. I would have been a better parent. But it’s never too late. I still read it just to remind myself to back-off whenever my natural co-dependent ways want to kick in again. Page 43: ‘If you push your Children they will lose their balance. If you are always running them here and there, they will get nowhere. If you put them in the spotlight, they will be unable to see their own light. If you seek to impose upon them your own ideas of who they should be, they will become nothing. If you want them to thrive, do what you can for their safety, and let go.’

d)     God Calling. I forget who wrote it and I’m too lazy to move all the stuff to look. It’s kind of like Come Away My Beloved if you like that style of writing. I do when I need to be reminded of the Heavenly Father’s Love.

e)    New Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton. I’ve never met that Thomas so I don’t miss him. Thomas Merton is like C.S. Lewis to me: heady. I have to read him slowly, one paragraph at a time, and remind myself that I’m not obtuse. His deep heart for Christ, social justice, and pacifism strikes a cord in my want-to-be mystic bones.

f)     1-journal on Intentions. As an assignment for a school project last year, I had to start the day setting an intention and keeping track of them. I didn’t write everyday, but pretty close. It really taught that when I do that, my day felt purposeful. If I had only set an intention to clean off my nightstand.

Lastly, my reading glasses would be delicately placed each night like a Jenga block on top of this disorderly pile of unstable clutter. But I’m using them at the moment. Upon reflection and looking at my nightstand, I don’t know whether to disappear in shame now that everyone knows what a slob I am or if I should laugh because most of the time I don’t really give a shit? I go back and forth. Luckily, I didn’t find any leftover food or melted chocolate. And the good news is soon the nightstand will see the light of day and Pledge. In a few weeks, my friend, Pam, from NJ is coming for a visit.  The following week, Maddi and Kevin are coming home. Maddi has never been a guest in our house. I’ll have to pretend that I have a spotless house until she really gets to know me!! :-D