Miscommunication 101

The weekend was a little bit backwards. Yesterday felt like a Saturday so I am really, really, really craving a Sunday right about now.

Speaking of backwards, I think that I was speaking Backwards English yesterday ...

I had the time, opportunity and money to get my hair cut and colored yesterday afternoon. I squeezed it into a rather productive day and utilized the only free two hours that I had at my disposal. I thought that was a good sign that this was truly 'meant to be'.

The hair 'artist' asked me what I wanted done. This is where it started to go wrong. I used the wrong words, phrases and emphasis to describe what I didn't want.

I said (something to the effect of), "I'm glad my hair looks the way it does today because this is exactly what I want to get rid of." I grabbed the clump of hair on the top of my head and told her that it desperately needed to be thinned and it was not thinned properly the last time and it had led to this 'mushroom cap' look that I didn't want. I brought along photos of Kelly Pickler (with her short, sassy hair Dancing-With-the-Stars-hairstyle). I told her this was the look that I was going for ...

Then she asked about the color. She asked if I wanted to go with the brash, yucky, icky reddish tinge that was left over from my last bad color. Why did I not just say distinctly, loudly and succinctly, "NO"? Instead I grabbed the roots of my hair and said that I wanted to go towards something that would get rid of these unsightly roots. What I intended to mean was "I want my natural color, with highlights".

Well? At the end of her styling process, she had not even touched the top of my head when she started to blow it dry. Color me crazy, but I thought that perhaps she cut it when I wasn't looking and maybe she knew what she was doing. When she grabbed a big, round brush and blew some body into this massive amount of hair it wasn't feeling good. It didn't look any better.

So eventually, I did get the top of my hair thinned. I have no idea if it is going to work for me because she styled it and I don't know how it is going to act in 'real life'. But for the rest of the day and so far this morning, I can live with it.

My Youngest Son took a double take when he saw my hair in the light. He said that this is the first time that he has ever noticed a difference after I got my hair done. I asked what he noticed. He said he noticed the color. He didn't elaborate and I didn't ask if that was a good or a bad thing.

When I looked in the mirror this morning, after erasing my memory while I slept ... I simply saw the color that I had hoped to get rid of. It's not ugly. It is simply not the color I intended to spend two hours of my precious Sunday and all of my hard earned and precious-to-me cash that I had earned doing a job that I don't exactly love to do.

Yes, I could go back and have them 'fix' whatever I may find to be wrong with it after I wash it for the first time. But I have no desire to give up any more of my time. If I'm going to be sitting still for that amount of time, I would much rather be at home where I could fully appreciate it.

I'm done obsessing with my hair. It is a minor thing. It grows. And it looks far, far better than it did at this time yesterday. I don't hate it. The thing that bothers me the most is the backwards communication that transpired during that little 'hair transaction'. I played and replayed what I actually said and realized that I was not precise and clear in my intent. But in my eyes, I would think that Communications 101 should be the first course a hair stylist takes. How can you possibly hope to please your customers if you don't communicate what you 'hear' and reword it before you start cutting and coloring one's hair?

Then again ... my hair specialist yesterday was a 'Hair Artist'. Maybe they bring their interpretation of what they see, hear and feel into their art. And you are to walk out of the salon feeling like a masterpiece.

Reality

This is 'reality' in my little corner of the world:

 We (me and my little daycare family) have had an extreme case of cabin fever over the course of the past six+ months as we endured the longest winter I can remember (please ignore the fact that I tend to forget things-such-as-this, but trust me - it has been a very, very long winter).

We built snowmen when the weather was mild. We went for walks as long as sidewalk conditions allowed. We played in the front yard when the sidewalks and roads became impassable with the stroller. We did the best we could do with the weather conditions that we were given. We tried. We honestly tried to make the most of the endless snow, cold, ice and dreary winter conditions. 

It is April 20th and this is what our yard looks like this morning. I'm just plain tired of winter. So is the rest of the country ...

But this week was a banner week. I took my daycare family out for a walk five out of five days. Most days, we were outside twice throughout the day. The addition of fresh air and sunshine has been most welcome.

It was also a very quiet week. Quiet in daycare language translates into more-adult-intervention-required. When there are more kids, they make their own fun within a group. My job is to oversee and guide them but it isn't one-on-one labor intensive. I get to stand back and breathe a little. The fewer the children, the harder my job becomes.

So I took this chance to relook at strategies and I found a few work-arounds that I think will bring 'world peace' back into our home. Little things.

It was a week that started out challenging ... but got better each and every day. I write a daily blog for my parents so that they can check in and see/hear what our day looked and felt like. I try so hard to focus on the positive and try to include fun pictures, videos and cute things-kids-say ... but this endless winter has been tough. Reality has seeped into my daily daycare musings.

I was talking to one of my parents yesterday morning as I was commiserating about the little things that were bringing me down at that particular moment. I was having one of those days where I questioned my abilities as a daycare provider. When you don't get a lot of feedback in a job, you tend to start to take silence personally. One of my parents is particularly quiet...

Anyway, the mom I was talking to assured me that she was very happy in all regards. She said reading our blog is the highlight of her day. I lowered my head and shamefully admitted that 'it isn't all positive'. She replied that she wouldn't want it any other way. She feels like she knows exactly what is going on in her daughter's day when I write honestly.

With these assurances under my belt, I was armed and ready to take on the day. It was an easy/hard day. Because I only had one child to tend. One child = excessive one-on-one expectations. But we did good. We walked for hours. I let her watch an extra episode of 'Bubble Guppies'. We just went where ever the day took us.

The next thing you know, the day was done. And what to my wondering eyes should appear? The mom that I had spoken with in the morning came in the house bearing these:

                                                  

My reality is actually pretty wonderful. It may still be winter outside, but spring has sprung within my heart and home. And I am ready to take on the world (please world, do not take that statement too literally).

Use It or Lose It

My day of absorbing the world has been lost as one day melted into the next. I feel a quiet ache inside of me because I had nourished a part of myself that needed that day. And the benefit of all that was gained has been spent on 'life'.

I still have the notations that I made as life-as-I-know-it started to intrude on that little piece of serenity. I glanced at the words yesterday and they had lost their poignancy. I wondered where the passion that I felt at the time had gone.

Real-life is draining me at the moment. I look at myself, my life and the challenges before me and there is absolutely no reason that I shouldn't be able to shake myself out of this.

I don't want or need anyone to point out what I already know. No one could beat me up inside, any more than I already am doing to myself. I see where I am and I know the direction that I am headed. I know that it is not always a direct path from 'here' to 'there' and I am fine with that.

The wheels inside of my head are turning. There are restrictions as to what I can and cannot do with the ideas that are formulating. Even that-which-I-can-do is limited at the moment.

Our endless winter is playing havoc with my coping abilities. I have taken my daycare family on walks every day this week and it has been wonderful. The sidewalks are not 100% passable yet but they are getting so much closer. 

I need a sunbeam. I need to soak up the sun so that I can reflect it inward and get myself up and out of this place. It is so close. It is so very, very close ...

I need to find that-which-sustains me and use it. For if I don't use it, it gets lost in the reality of that which is 'life'...

Time to Exhale

I am very sensitive to noise-overload. Perhaps it is better phrased as 'sensory overload'. My days have been extremely noisy lately.

I have been craving quiet and solitude. A lot. I gave myself the gift of 'a day' on Saturday and I have been playing catch-up ever since...

I felt guilty for it. The phone was at my side on my self-imposed day of solitude and I willed it not to ring. It didn't. Until it did.

It was good that the phone rang. It brought the gift of friendship into my day of 'inhaling' and my friends are as vital as oxygen and water to me . The downside is that I have been trying to 'exhale' ever since and I haven't found the opportunity to do so.

A day of absorbing the world was exactly what I needed. I let the day unfold as naturally as it could. I watched movies. Some were deep. Others weren't. But I found gifts in the shallowest of things on Saturday. Because I was breathing in the day.

I read. I bought the book "Carry On, Warrior" by Glennon Doyle Melton. I stumbled upon Glennon's blog innocently enough (I love days that allow me to follow where ever a computer link may lead). I would love to buy a dozen copies of this book and spread them around whenever I see someone who may benefit from it. These words speak so loudly to me and I interpret them on so many different levels. I love where this author's words take me ...

I inhaled so deeply that I was filled to the brim. I invited friendship into that oxygenated state and I was met with so many more words to inhale. I had so much to say ... then the real world came crashing in on me.

I had to work on Sunday. I have honed the art of procrastination and hadn't completed the job that I had to do at home, before I returned to my work place. I crammed in as much as I could before I had to go to my job but I had underestimated the time it would take to do the job and I was quite literally running out the door (I skidded out in the middle of the living room in my race against time) to make it to work in time.

I worked over six hours. I had to buy groceries on the way home. I didn't walk in the door until 6:30 and supper was necessary. I wanted it to be another fend-for-yourself-night, but we have had so many of those lately that I couldn't deny my son the pizza he asked for. So I combined picking up said pizza, with another errand that I had not run (due to my Saturday-of-inhaling). I got home at 9 p.m. and I still hadn't eaten supper. I needed to have a shower. It was 10:00 before I sat down. I had words bottled up inside of me with no energy or time left in the day to put a voice to them ...

I woke up at 5 a.m. yesterday and chose to stay in bed until 5:30. Big mistake. I could have used that 30 minutes. I needed to write. I needed to exhale but the day got in the way.

My daycare charges are draining every ounce of energy that I have in me. They need something. All day. All of the time. Except when they sleep. I made one more mistake yesterday. I took that nap time and spent it on matters of an income tax kind. I unearthed a small mystery that consumed every breath that was already consumed in a very kid-oriented day. The mystery was not completely unravelled until last night.

The day was spent and so was I.

So when I woke up at 5 a.m. once again this morning, I heeded that call and got up. I was greeted with messages in my inbox which I responded to. Again, there was more to 'inhale', than I had time to 'exhale' completely.

The clock was ticking. My son wanted the computer. I was five minutes away from the onset of my daycare day. I asked my son for those last five minutes on the computer.

I raced to update my daycare blog as my first family walked in the door. The day began like every other. The challenges of the day ahead were set before me. I looked at my son and asked him how was I going to do this for ten more hours. He understood exactly what I was saying. As he left for school, he wished me well with my day. The words came from a place in his heart. He not only knew what I was thinking, he knew what I was feeling.

All that I was feeling was validated in that very moment. It was enough. Because here I am.

I have rerouted my strategies today and I have a completely different game plan in mind. Two out of four of 'my kids' called in and told me that they will not be coming today. I have an opportunity to redo yesterday because I have the same two children that I feel that I 'failed' yesterday, here for a do-over.

The strategy is working. Because I have sat still and had an opportunity to breathe out the entirety of this blog post with almost no interruptions as they play contentedly at my side. They are getting along. They are acting in age-appropriate ways (my two-year-old that has honed the art of copying his one-year-old buddy has so completely that he has absorbed her ways, tones and inflections that I cannot honestly tell one voice apart from the other).

I need time to exhale all of the words that my day of 'inhaling' has wrought. I have so much to say and little time to say it. I feel slightly asthmatic as I deal with an excess of incoming 'air' and the lack of ability to breathe it out.

Today begins the process of exhaling...

Inhaling

I woke up this morning completely void of words and thoughts (deep, inane or otherwise). My body hurt (3.5 hours of dodging puddles and carrying loads of flyers last night, that far exceeded that-which-is-recommended) and I was numb. Inside and out.

I turned on the TV and followed where my interests led. I sat down with a book on my lap and read snippets of writing that captured my attention. A pen, a notebook, a newspaper and a cup of coffee were (still are) at my side.

I followed wherever my attention took me. I ended up here:

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

Feeling a little lost today? Watch this. Feeling a little empty? Read and absorb the world.

I will write more another day when the words are bubbling up inside me. Today, I am revelling in my imperfections (in a good way). It is okay to be imperfect. It is okay to admit it out loud. I am beginning to see that is why I feel such a connection to those who are a part of my world.

I am breathing in the world around me today. And it is good ...

High School is Just the Beginning

Grade 9 seems like a bit of a wake up call for young students. Mid term assignments, exams and large projects are all coming to a head at the same time. For those that are struggling I can only imagine how coping strategies must be either hitting a passing or failing grade.

I find myself marvelling at my Youngest Son's desire to give his school work his 'all' this year. Elementary was fairly easy for him and the blasé marks of 'Not Meeting Expectations'; 'Meeting Expectations'; or 'Exceeding Expectations' did not bring out his personal best. The percentage marks that they hand out in high school is something so much more tangible. It has him competing against himself to do the best of his abilities.

His Easter Break was overcast in looming exams and big projects due within a week of returning back to school. He was overwhelmed and somewhat dismayed at the expectations that have been thrown at them this year, "Why even give us a break when we are expected to do so much homework?!" was his lament.

So he puttered away at the-biggest-project-of-them-all (and the first one due upon his return to school) throughout his holiday. All the while, muttering about the expectations in this new world of high school.

He finished that project with a few waking hours to spare on the first-day-back-to-school. The remainder of the week has been consumed with the other projects that are due. Last night was the granddaddy of them all with two projects and three exams all due today.

I am so happy to see his self-induced efforts and expectations. I am not the driving force behind his performance. It is all internal. And truly ... can we as parents really force our children to do as well as we think that they can? Encouragement, rewards, bribes, threats and everything else is a version of placing our expectations on someone else's shoulders. The real world isn't like that. We aren't coddled and cajoled into meeting expectations within a job, a relationship, running a home or simply managing our own life.

I couldn't help but think of the many ways that I can be overwhelmed by deadlines and responsibilities in my own little life, as I was doling out advise as per the 'wisdom I have gained by being an adult'. I realized the many ways that I am lacking the motivation that my young son has at the age of 14 years.

Don't leave big jobs until the last minute. I need that 'last minute' motivation to get big jobs done. A job without a deadline (real or perceived) in my mind is a job that doesn't get done. I could learn from a page in my son's book. Whittle away at the big jobs is better advise. As overwhelming as they are (real or perceived), you get nothing done by doing nothing. A little bit on a daily basis goes a long way when it comes to the final stretch. When the bulk of the work is behind you, it leaves you with the energy to work out the details in the end.

If you get the smaller jobs out of your way, you have more time and energy to put towards the bigger ones. As I watched my son's energy fizzle out as the week progressed, I wondered if he had used up all of his ambition on the 'big project' and had run out of momentum. But last night, as he was in the home stretch, I could see the wisdom in the way he progressed through the week. He prioritized by due dates. A smart move. A person is more motivated when a deadline is looming. It is definitely helpful when you've been placing some energy towards the end goal for some time preceding said deadline. To have to start and finish a project under the gun may produce action. But the results may be less than you could have come up with, if you work slowly and steadily towards the finish line. The moral of the story between the race between the tortoise remains as true today as it did in the decade it was written.

Take advantage of every opportunity to learn as you go. The final exams in life are best written with instilled knowledge that is absorbed and utilized to its fullest capacity along the way. That which is crammed into your brain at the last moment is the first to go. Read, listen, utilize and absorb the world around you to your fullest capacity every day. Review the details before the exam date, but if the knowledge is instilled the details are easier to remember. As my son planned to study for his exams as he progressed throughout the day today, I couldn't help but think that his retained knowledge will get him through the day. Perhaps he could do better if he had studied harder. Then again, many of the projects that were due this week may have been exactly what he needed to digest some of the information he will need for his exams.

High school is only the beginning of a lifetime full of projects and long term expectations. Some come with deadlines. Others don't. We have the ability to hang onto some of those lessons we learn in high school. Perhaps it would be wise for me to take a page from my son's book ...

My only fear? This is only Grade 9. It is bound to get worse. What if he burns out before he graduates? Where do kids find the motivation to keep going, when the going gets tough, tougher and seems never ending. Already, my son is comparing work to school. School does not end at the end of the school day. It seeps into evenings, weekends and holidays. Work? It is starting to sound pretty good to him.

Yet ... with work, comes a life of extra curricular responsibilities and expectations. 'Homework' is just that. You come home from a full-time job to a home full of work to be done. It really doesn't end. It just changes.

High school is just the beginning...

Eight More to Go

I have handed in my notice. I am so ready for this to be over. I am willing to make whatever sacrifices are necessary to see this through. I will deliver my last flyer/newspaper by April 27th.

From the moment that I finally made the call to give them the required one month notice, I was ready to let go. I waited one month too long.

The elation that I felt eight months ago is all but a distant memory. Oh, I remember the feeling. It felt a little bit wonderful to be back in my element, walking through my neighborhood and talking with my neighbors on those warm, sunny summer days.

Since that time, I have walked through wind, rain, snow, sleet, Arctic winter temperatures, ice and puddles. Of all of the aforementioned walking conditions, the spring thaw is the worst. If I don't end up in a puddle before my reign is through, I will be happy (and perhaps a little bit surprised).

Initially, I was thrilled to get paid to exercise. Weight bearing exercise to boot. Eight months in? I am beginning to think that the weight of all of those flyers (they just keep getting heavier now that all of the merchants are advertising for the spring and summer seasons ahead) is compacting my spine. My joints, my back, my flexibility and my thumbs (?!??) are not what they were prior to this little money-making exercise scheme of mine.

Now? I will give up whatever is necessary to make this financial sacrifice work. Dancing. Take-out food. Extra-curricular spending. Groceries....

I am so over you, flyers! I have eight more delivery dates to endure. Then I will celebrate by not going out dancing or spending frivolously. I will celebrate each time that I move with ease.

Good riddance, flyers. I will be grateful to see the end of you...

**P.S. A huge, huge thank you to my Middle Son who rescued me yesterday. Not only did he deliver the 'third' of the flyers that are the furthest away from home for me (before my daycare family left for the day) but ... he also assembled our supper for us while I was out completing the job. When I came home, supper was ready and waiting for me. Though I was tired and grumpy at the end of the day, not having to worry about supper at the end of a day-such-as-I-had was the best gift I could have ever hoped for.**