Sometimes I don’t even know what I need. I go looking for one thing and find another. Sometimes I cast that odd other thing aside thinking I don’t need it and sometimes I hold on to it for dear life, like a new treasure to add to my collection. But funny thing is, that collection has to start somewhere. Often times it begins with a second or third or fourth exposure  (because sometimes I am slow, stubborn or deaf)  to that odd other thing that I cast away earlier. It keeps popping up and continues to catch my eye and then fills my thoughts and I begin to obsess over it. Then I go back searching for those tidbits I tossed aside earlier. I sort through stuff trying to remember wear I saw it. I find other things along the way to add in and after some back tracking and hard work I have the beginnings of a wonderful collection.

For years I have  had this vision of what I wanted my family to be. It sort of looks like an old Kodachrome, or an 8mm movie camera playing a film of strawberry blond kids, happily running through a meadow. Ridiculous, I know. But I am a visual person and the part that sticks out in that picture for me is the happiness and joy part of the picture. The part that I feel is missing from my picture,  my family.

At the end of 2009 I told my friends that I was turning over a new leaf. I was going to be a nicer person. When really I meant I was going to find MY joy and happiness. I think I have been looking for it in all the wrong places. No one is going to bring it to me, it’s not in a book or off of a shelf. Recently I  realized it  has been with me all along. And I didn’t even know it. Happiness really is a choice, it is within my power to just Be Happy. Stepping outside of my normal response or mind set is just a beginning of bringing on that  happiness.

I am going to tie this all together I promise!

Last week we attended The Unschoolers Winter Water Park Gathering for 4  days. This is the third year we have attended but this is the longest we have stayed and the most actual conference sessions we have attended.  These speakers said exactly what I needed to hear. Not what I wanted mind you, but what I needed. We rehashed these conference discussions 12 billion times over the next several days and a funny thing happened-I went from being dumbfounded and even pissed off a little to questioning and  then more discussion and then to an openness that I didn’t anticipate in the least.  See, unschooling is about so much more than just not doing school. It’s even more than just letting your kids decide how they want to fill their time and how they want to dress or not cut their hair and dye it blue. I knew that, but I learned again that  it is so much more also.   This is not the first, second, third or even tenth time I have read or heard or even been exposed to Radical Unschooling but it is the first time I actually listened to it.

I am not much in to  “the Secret” but that’s just me casting aside the odd thing for the second or third time now. But holy crap…I heard what I was searching for. Fate maybe? I do believe in fate. I didn’t consciously  put it out there, I wasn’t looking for joy at this conference. I was hoping to hear something other than Yes, your unschooler is learning all they need to know, Yes they can go to college, Yes, they will be functioning adults.  But not that I have the power to be happy and joyful right inside me-this whole time! I was there to hear about unschooling- Well I guess I  did put it out there that I wanted to talk about meatier subjects. I wanted a seasoned unschoolers discussion-even worse I helped lead that discussion. (But I am still not sure about “The Secret!”)

Of course I am living off the conference high since we returned but life feels easier and lighter.  Changing MY attitude goes a long way (about 90%) and simply realizing a few things:

*  Everything is a choice-I don’t have to do anything but I can choose to do it (the dishes, taking the dogs out for the 12th time in a row etc..)  Once I choose to do something it takes away the chore or dread and unpleasantness of it. I always thought this was stupid-just psycho babble-I have been humbled!

* Saying Yes  not my knee jerk No-OMG that makes life so much easier!!!!  HELL-O

*Simplifying and lowering expectations goes a long way in lowering stress levels and making everyone happier. -Duh

*My kids don’t care about the future (or the clean house or all the time it took me to plan, get, prepare and clean up food), they care about NOW (they want me NOW, not when I finish something else, to be present NOW,  not listening with one ear while multi-tasking) And they really want me-to spend time with them-what a huge compliment. I should  feel honored that they want to hang out with me!

*My family doesn’t have an agenda or pre meditated reasons for leaving their stuff around, It has nothing to do with me (detachment)so why be resentful??!

So much of this may seem obvious but it has really been a light bulb switching on for me. Some of it is just looking at things differently.  In a nutshell-I went looking for what I thought was Unschooling info and came home with so much more. So much information that I cast away as craziness  or just didn’t pay attention to while hearing it over and over again.  My collection is beginning to grow, so many new treasures and I plan to hold on to each new piece for dear life.

(My husband wants to know why it took me 1,000 words to say this! It was cathartic, honey!)

May this be the year we soar to new heights

Dance with reckless abandon

Stretch ourselves

Take risks

Toast our friends

May this be the year…………

Photos taken at First Night Columbus 2009

Kristina Isabelle/High Jinks Dance Co

KidCo

My feckless friend Abby has started a new Friday game and she wants us all to play along. It’s called Feckless Friday-I could write a post titled Feckless Monday thru Friday but I won’t embarrass myself. This dream I had about Lil’ Wayne is bad enough!

A bit of back ground info-I have a 14 yr old son, Jake,  who controls the car radio-so I listen to a lot of hip-hop. Every time they mention Lil Wayne, my husband and I have a tendency to act like we are cool and yell, “Lil Wayne, Lil Wayne, Lil Wayne’s in the house!” (I need a megaphone there so you can really hear how stupid we are!) And my son always tells us to “shut up!” in his 14 yr old brooding tone.

So on to my dream—Jake and I were at some fair or something and Lil Wayne was standing on a small platform stage with just a handful of people around. I turned to Jake and said, “Oh, Please, please can I do it?!!” He rolled his eyes and and said OK but walked way ahead of me so no one would know he was with me. And then I did it, I screamed, “LIL WAYNE,  LIL WAYNE,  LIL  W-A-Y-N-E’-S  IN  THE  HOUSE!!!!!!!!” and all the coool young, black, hip hoppers shook their fists at me and high fived me and said, “way to go Mamma!”

It was like a dream come true to be considered so cool by all those rappers. But as Jake reminds me…”it’s only your dream Mom.” Ahhhhhhhhhh

But I think Feckless Abby could have pulled it off…What d’ya think?

So how stupid are you? Let Abby know so she doesn’t feel so lonely!

Seven months ago I started running. I started from scratch. I was NEVER a runner. I could barely run for 30 seconds straight with out feeling like I was going to die from lack of oxygen. Really, I am not exaggerating.  I hated running. I never understood my husband and his family’s running for enjoyment.  But I was feeling extra large and decided to join some friends in a May, 5K goal.  I followed a couch to 5K podcast program and it was HARD.

I didn’t know that it would get easier, that my lungs would get stronger and I would not be gasping for air  three steps in to a 30 second run, that I would not over heat or explode,that I would not die of thirst or be stranded on the trail and not able to hobble home.  No one told me that it wouldn’t always be sooo hard. That I would find my breath and my rhythm.  Well-they did but I didn’t believe them. I was SURE that maybe everybody else could run…but not me. I hated the jiggly, heavy, tromping way my body felt when I  my feet hit the ground.  I was just not made or built to run. You see, I am not skinny. And I equated running with skinny people.

I was thin once in my life for about six or eight months. So thin in fact I shopped in the children’s department.  But that was a long time ago.  ( I am just over 5 feet tall so it’s not that far of a stretch to be in a small size) When my daily routine consisted of smoking, coffee, smoking, walking and eating salad and cereal. That was about 3 children and 15 years ago. Now I am healthy and sturdy. I am a pillow for lounging children and someone who has trouble buckling ski boots over her ample calves. Don’t take that the wrong way. I like the way I look. Sure I wish my belly was flatter or I was a few inches taller. But all in all, I am OK with my body. (You may remember a past post where I explained my image in my head doesn’t always match the image in the mirror or a photo of myself. I feel much better about the way I think I look. Call it denial, but it works!)

Anyways, back to running-Seven months seems like yesterday. Sure there was lots of pain, I had terrible shin splints some chafing. It really was only a few weeks ago that I realized that I finally shook the little voice that told me to turn around and go back home a few hundred yards after I started. It was a struggle to keep going when I heard that voice EVERY time I ran. I always thought about quiting a few minutes into the run. And worse if I skipped a day, I was sure my body would forget and I wouldn’t be able to run. I would be back at day one once again.

Then, one day soon after that voice in my head went away, I realized I actually liked running. I even looked forward to running . I tried to challenge  myself to run further and further.  And I could do it. Amazing! My body is amazing!  I am in awe of the fact that I can actually run 5 or 6 miles on any given day now. And that I am training for a solo- half marathon. (long story)  Really it seems like only yesterday that I was running for two minutes and walking for one. If  I can accomplish this anyone can.

So here is the OCD part. What I want to know-actually I find it fascinating-what rituals or routines (or in some cases obsessive compulsive disorders)  do you follow when you run?  For example-I only run in the morning after my coffee has jump started my colon. I brush my teeth, put my hair in a pony tail and take 2 tiny sips of water and then try to pee again.  I always  carry a stick or two of gum with me in my bra and I can’t stand to wear headphones because my ears get too hot and I get tangled up in the cords. I do the same 4 quick stretches, I follow the same route 95% of the time because then I can run on auto pilot.  I never think deep thoughts. I keep it light and relaxing. Today for the first time I carried a water bottle with me and it was OK!!  I know some runners do crazy things before they hit the trial!! What do you do?

Part of me-even with all the confidence I have gained in myself, still thinks that if I don’t follow my routine or do these “things” before or while I am running-I won’t make it. I will have to turn around and walk back home. But somewhere deep inside I know better…I think.?

Broken humerus snowboarding with friends today.

Lucky he had a helmet on!

Bad timing!

We are leaving for an Unschoolers Conference at a water park for a few days, we have a quick ski trip planned, he has several circus performances coming up, helping out with a music video in the girls breakdancing class, and he and Joe were going to Jackson Hole for snowboarding and snowmobiling. (which may still be possible if he heals in a timely manner).

Ginger is sick and I spent most of the day at the hospital with Jake,  so packing and shopping for our trip is not happening. So, I will be cramming in what I can tomorrow and then off for a few days of R&R. I’ll be back next week, hopefully with better news. Or at least I’ll be well rested.

Gotch ya!! Not really me, but my closet. This is embarrassing but I am going to let you look in my closet, yesterday…..

It was bad I know! But after a few hours yesterday and about an hour today, I manged to purge ALOT!

Plus a hand me down bag to a friend. At this point I must tell you that I buy 90% of our clothes second hand-and not at upscale consignment stores either. I prefer thrift stores that are packed floor to ceiling with hidden treasures. I love the thrill of the hunt! I occasionally buy things new-sometimes I splurge on really expensive things, like on the two new pairs of shoes I recently purchased, or the winter coat I bought three years ago. And sometimes I buy at Old Navy and Target. But the packed garbage bags that are headed back to the thrift store as a donation are filled with the many treasures I buy at the VOA or Salvation Army or my favorite Village Discount. For some, the great thing about shopping second hand is the savings, and I am no exception but really in the long run, because I buy so much, I probably don’t save as much as most thrift store shoppers. I posted awhile back about how I am not a simple person-and my closet confirms that story! But with some trimming of the fat…it looks a whole lot better!

I parted with lots of treasures, but one pair of old favorites will probably never leave my closet. Not on my butt nor in a donation bag. They will sit on my upper shelf, buried by things that now fit my 40 something year old figure.

Oh, if these cut offs could talk! They may utter the name, written in marker, on the inside of the front pocket, that is crossed out, to become the property of a younger brother. That younger brother would be my husband. Not long after we met in college, I claimed this pair of Sears plain pocket jean shorts. I wore them through every season. With tan legs in the summer and tights and long johns underneath them along with slouchy boots in the winter. It has been a few years since these fit me (comfortably). But they are a reminder of my youth. What once was. Something I may never part with.

I found a few strays in the mess too. I thought the combinations of these lost and found items were really funny!

On day one, I found-a ballon, a dice, a ticket stub, broken jibbet, a doll shoe, 2 hair clips, my drivers liscense I had to replace, my matching slipper covered in dog fur, an acorn top, one of Gingers old slippers (yea-the match is in the basement).

On cleaning day two, I found a headless doll, Some Kodak movies (Need to find a projector) and a pair of magic magnet rocks (Yeah! A pair).

My goal is to not bring tons of stuff back into that closet. I am going to try to be a little more thrifty!

As far as the creepy faces-well those apples are still wet. They are beginning to mold too. So into the compost bin they shall go.

I now call Clintonville home, but like so many others here in Columbus, I did not grow up here.  Thanks to OSU my husband and I are transplants.  I really like it here and if given the choice we would not move back to the east side Cleveland, but a visit back to your roots  is especially gratifying when you have a small audience to help you enjoy the  highlights of your past.

First we rode The Rapid downtown…

We passed the usual looking scenes..

As well as a few new ones..

We visited The Great Lakes Science Center…

Also a new place to those that grew up in Cleveland.  We decided to share one of the best things about Cleveland with our friends; Murray Hill AKA Little Italy.

First we had the worlds best pizza at Anthony’s and then had the worlds best treats at Corbo’s.

I tried making these photos smaller-but they really deserved to be big!

Then we rolled back to our downtown hotel that overlooked Playhouse Square.

Of course there was swimming.

Monday was a day of disappointment.  First we headed to Edgewater Park for “a day at the beach.”  Never mind that I poo-pooed that beach choice the whole way there.  We NEVER went to that beach growing up.  It turned out you couldn’t use flotation devices there so we packed up and headed to my beach-in Willowick.  Well, remember how we learned about erosion back in school-my beach was a perfect example.  It is the beach of no more.  So we headed out to Mentor headlands where we all got sunburned and found lots of sea glass.  A memory-check!

Then we headed back to Shaker to eat at Best Steak (not me-just everyone else!!).  The sign said closed for a few days-but it looked much grimmer than a few days.  My poor husband was about brought to tears.  So we went across the street for the worst Chinese food in the dirtiest restraunt I have ever been in.  It didn’t help that husbands families other favorite deli, Sol’s, was gone too.  W hat were we thinking-we should have gone to Corky and Leni’s!

But now we are home and the reality of  my life here in Columbus is hitting me over the head.  I promise some crafty posts sometime soon!