Life As I Now Know It™: A Year (or two) In the Life of a Single Working Mom

One of my New Year's Resolutions for 2018 was to write at least 36 blog posts over the course of the year. (The number 36 is not as random as it appears; I'll be 36 this year, and approximately 3 posts a month just seemed like a reasonable number.) It's now late February and I'm off to a roaring start. I've posted a GRAND TOTAL of....

One.

I've been giving myself quite a hard time about this. Writing is my passion, second only to reading, and neither of these loves have gotten very much attention from me in the past year or two. I've recently become a fan of Audible, which is allowing me to get a lot more "reading" in, and while part of me hates spending $15 a month on something entirely digital, I have used the subscription more than I ever expected. I spend a lot of time on the road between work travel and long-distance-boyfriend travel, so thanks to audiobooks, I've been able to keep up with my book club and have enjoyed a number of books on my list that I'd otherwise have never found time to read.

Disclaimer: Though it may sound like it, this post has not been sponsored by Audible. Though I'd absolutely take their money if they offered so...

But writing still remains something I cannot do while in the car on long trips. I often think of things I'd like to write about, but between work, kids and aforementioned long-distance boyfriend, I have a very hard time carving out the time I need to put thoughts into words.

I was lamenting about this yesterday to The Boyfriend who is also a writer and somehow finds the time in his busy schedule to crank out intelligent blog posts on a pretty regular basis. He reminded me that as chaotic as his life is, mine is outrageous. We began tracing backwards what my life has been like for the last year and a half or so, and he's right. My ability to find time or even headspace to write might be affected by the following series of events. I'm going to take you back to the last point in time where I actually managed to squeeze in some writing: the month and year I published my book. (It's on Amazon. Go buy it and read it. It is an amazing source of income for me, y'all. It brought in a whopping $45.76 last year! I AM LITERALLY PAID TO WRITE, GUYS. *Insert laughing-so-hard-you're-crying emoji*.)

July 2015
I published my book that I'd been working on for a year and a half. Amidst trying to finalize the publishing process, I was applying for jobs. That same month, I began working at AFMC after having been out of the traditional work force for 7+ years.

July 2015 - Oct 2016
I'll just throw the entire year in together as one lump sum time period, since it was a major year of transition from stay-at-home-mom to working mom. I had to relearn everything, from how to work in a professional setting again to how to feed my kids when I don't get home until after 6 every day. It was quite the year. And around July 2016 I applied for another job and went through a series of 4 intense interviews before taking my new job and setting into motion the gyroscope that would become Life As I Now Know It™.

Oct 2016
I began working for the American Red Cross as the regional communications director for all of Oklahoma and Arkansas on October 10th. Immediately I went from a (albeit very busy) 9-5 job to a round-the-clock on-call constantly-traveling one. I began traveling approximately 40% of the time, and this caused an excruciating strain on my marriage and brought on a number of things, which eventually brought everything to a head, leading to...

Nov 2016
Scott and I started talking about divorce.

Jan 2017
Scott moved out.

(Meanwhile, back in December, my one communications staff member, who found himself in the awkward position of having to train his boss, quit for an amazing opportunity elsewhere, leaving me with two months experience and no team.)

I was also still traveling a significant amount of time for my job, when...

Feb 2017
The executive director in my home Red Cross chapter very suddenly retired due to illness. The chapter was two months away from its annual fundraiser, and as communications director it fell on me to help pull the event together in her absence. I decided to apply for the executive director position (it would certainly require less travel), so I didn't mind the extra work, but it meant that I was still doing my full time two-state communications job as well as a chapter executive job.

April 2017
I was selected as the executive director. Then just about two weeks before the fundraiser, the previous executive director passed away suddenly. With this new development, we had to redesign a significant part of the fundraiser to address this sad, sudden change. Now, I was not only taking over from a woman who had retired after having been a pillar in this community, leading this chapter for over 22 years, I was now taking over after this woman's death. With the help of the Board of Directors and several volunteers and staff, we pulled off the fundraiser, and I officially started my new job.

But there was still no new communications director, so I had to continue dual roles for a short while. At the end of April, I went to Jonesboro to help the Northeast Arkansas chapter with their annual fundraiser. While in Jonesboro, the tornadoes, storms and floods that later became known as the 2017 Spring Storms, began sweeping across Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri and Illinois, and I found myself in my first ever Level 4 Disaster Relief Operation (DRO). I'd only been with the Red Cross for six months.

May 2017
I was deployed to Pocahontas, AR as the Public Affairs (PA) Lead where I spent a week covering media surrounding the massive flooding. Actually, I started out in Tulsa, OK, where we though the majority of the damage would be. After a day in Tulsa, I was sent to Pocahontas instead, where the actual major damage had occurred all the way up to St. Louis, MO.  After that week, I came back to Little Rock to work in the headquarters. I was now trying to learn my new job as ED, cover my old job as communications director, train the new communications staff member I'd just hired, and help run the PA, as well as assist as Government Liaison, for a DRO. Oh, and I was still doing the almost full-time parenting thing, minus Thursdays and every other weekend.

Oh, and I was informed at this time that I was also supposed to be well into planning for the Annual Board Meeting for June, an event I had no experience in and had just over a month to plan and execute.

June 2017
I somehow pulled off the Annual Board Meeting. I began taking over board meetings too and working with my new officers and board members.

July 2017
Scott officially got his own place, and the kids started going back and forth between houses every other week. It was quite an adjustment. (But it's been going well.) I began having more free time to myself, but also began absorbing more of the reality of my new situation.

At work, I began vigorous planning for our next big event, Sound the Alarm, where nationally the Red Cross aimed to install over 100,000 smoke alarms in homes over a four week period. In my chapter, our goal was to install 1,000 alarms.

Aug 2017
At the start of August (though technically it was the very tail end of July) I began dating the lovely, gorgeous, intelligent man who would eventually become The Boyfriend. Who, of all places, just happens to live in Mississippi. Thus I became entangled in a long-distance relationship.

I also bought a car. (This becomes relevant in just a moment.)

On August 17, Hurricane Harvey made landfall. I was still reeling from the Spring Storms and the Annual Meeting and trying to get a grasp on what all my new job entailed, and now, as an ED, I was responsible for deploying my part of what we call a DFRAP ("dif-rap"), a Disaster Fundraising Action Plan. I had three TV stations request our help in running a telethon to help raise money for hurricane victims. After a 14 hour day of non-stop televised telethoning, a truck slammed into me on the Arkansas River bridge on my way home (a hit and run, no less), nearly totaling my brand new car, on the night I was supposed to go see Ben Folds perform in Little Rock. For the next 6 weeks I drove around in a rental while my new car was in full-body surgery.

Then on August 30, Hurricane Irma made landfall.

Sept 2017
I was deployed again, this time to Fort Meyers, FL, where I spent almost two weeks. While I was in Florida, Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico.

Sound the Alarm was mercifully postponed until the spring.

Meanwhile, of course, I was still dating said Mississippi boy, who at this point had started undergoing a major crisis of his own. We joked (wryly) that I was providing disaster relief everywhere I turned.

Meanwhile, of course, I still had three children back home who are terrified that I was going to get killed in a hurricane, even though the hurricane had already come through. (Of course, Maria was heading my way while in Florida ...)

Oct 2017
The Las Vegas shooting occurred. The California wildfires raged. The trifecta of hurricanes continued to require an enormous amount of manpower. My chapter was practically empty with the number of staff and volunteers deployed all over the country providing disaster relief.

But I returned from my Florida deployment and was ready to finally get back to learning my new job as ED. At this point, we had hired a new communications director, and I was officially done helping with that role.

Then, on October 2, an announcement was made to my chapter - the Red Cross in my chapter jurisdiction would cease collecting blood as of December 31st.

The Red Cross had been collecting blood in central Arkansas for over 60 years. This was a massive change that affected everyone greatly, and as the "fearless leader" (please note the self-deprecating quotation marks) I got to be the ringleader for managing the media, the Board, and the employees concerns surrounding this astronomical change.

Nov - Dec 2017
Things quieted down, to a degree. I began intense planning for the annual fundraiser that was already looming around the corner again. Sound the Alarm was rescheduled for April. And in December, blood collection operations began coming to a close, and it was a very emotional experience. But for the most part, I got to breathe a little and enjoy a really lovely Christmas with my family.

Jan 2018
It was a good thing I got a two month breather, because with the start of the new year came a new announcement. We received the news that within the next several months Arkansas and Oklahoma would split apart as a region, and Arkansas would be joining up with Missouri. This was yet another astronomical change. Meanwhile, fundraiser planning was still in full swing and Sound the Alarm planning was supposed to be in full swing.

Oh, and things with Mississippi Boy got real over Christmas, and I introduced him to Scott and the kids in January. Major transitions at work. Major transitions at home. Transitions, transitions everywhere.

Feb 2018 - Present
With blood collections handed over to Arkansas Blood Institute (where I highly encourage central Arkansas folks to go to give blood now, though if you are in the northern part of the state or in most other parts of the country, you can still donate through Red Cross), the question of what would happen to our building loomed over us. It was decided earlier this month, that we will remain in our building but everyone's offices will be relocated to a central area of the building instead of spread out as we had been. We are in the process of packing up our offices right now and moving them to new offices before the end of the month.

That sounds like small potatoes in light of everything else, but it has been another stressful transition.

Meanwhile, the Celebration of Heroes Luncheon fundraiser is in two weeks. (Tickets still available! Email us if you want to attend and support the work and mission of the Red Cross!)

Meanwhile, I am still working with our local team to organize the newly scheduled Sound the Alarm for April 28th. (We still need volunteers, so go sign up!)

Meanwhile, we are in the thick of working out the imminent transition from the Oklahoma-Arkansas region to the Missouri-Arkansas region.

Meanwhile, I'm still getting calls constantly about what happened to blood collections.

Meanwhile, it is now the start of tornado season.

Meanwhile, I'm still dating this lovely man long-distance and parenting my three wild cherubs every other week, trying to find the perfect work-life balance that supposedly exists somewhere in the universe where full-time working single moms are still able to find time for romance and spending quality time with their children.

Meanwhile, the official divorce date for me and Scott is coming up in the very near future. (Scott, by the way, is the best ex a girl could ask for. He is a really great man, folks. But even in a divorce as amicable and agreeable as ours, divorce takes a lot of planning and it's stressful AF.)

Meanwhile, amid planning the Heroes Lunch and Sound the Alarm, I also have my Annual Board Meeting looming in the not too distant future, and several week-long training sessions out of state, and then hurricane season is looming after that, and then next year's fundraiser is after that and then tornado season again after that and then ...

***

I guess what I'm trying to say is, if I don't get 36 posts cranked out this year, I should probably give myself a break about it.

Ten Things That Royally Suck About Being a Single Parent

Back in the day, anytime the husband was out of town for a couple of days, I would lament dramatically about how hard being a "single parent" was. I would heap praise upon single mothers for their heroic efforts, as I swooned on the couch like a damsel in distress, hair in a messy bun, yesterday's makeup smeared across my eyes.

Then I became a single mother in real life, not just for a weekend, but for, like, forever indefinitely, and I realized there are way more things that suck about being a single parent than just feeling and looking tired all the time.

As my days go by, I discover more and more things that just suck. Some of these are specific to single parents; most can be shared by single folks regardless of parental status. But the following ten things are what I have found to be the suckiest parts of single motherhood. (I could also offer a money-back guarantee that Scott feels the exact same way about being a single dad, but there's been no money exchanged here, so just take my word for it.)

Ten Things That Royally Suck About Being A Single Parent (or single whatever):

1. Having to carry all your own groceries into the house. SERIOUSLY. It's like twice as many trips to the car, and then you have to put it all away yourself too. There is, of course, the cutting-off-circulation-to your-wrists method by slipping 6 bags onto each arm and clutching the gallons of milk in your fists, but you then risk scratching the paint on your car by trying to close the trunk with arms full of swinging cans of mixed vegetables. Yes, you can recruit the kids to help, but suddenly they all find a bag of bread sooooo heavy, Mom and you just want to give up right then on the driveway in front of your neighbors and God and the city alderman who lives two doors down. (She throws great summer barbecues.)

I use the cut-off-circulation method every time.

2. Not having someone to make a quick run to the store whilst you're cooking when you realize you're missing an ingredient. You know, you think you have everything you need, so you start stirring the pot on the stove and shoving food in the oven when you realize, "Aw crap, I'm out of ketchup!" But there's a half-ready dinner cooking, and with no one to run to the nearest supermarket to grab a bottle of ketchup for you, your dinner is ruined and the kids refuse to eat it.

I always run out of eggs.

3. Having no one to call to when you're in the bathroom and out of toilet paper. Y'all know what I'm talking about - you've had a satisfying few moments of silence, until you realize you're out of TP. So you do the awkward shake off then commence the pants-around-your-ankles waddle to the toilet paper closet and back. (Does everyone else have a toilet paper closet?)  Anyway, I've called on the kids once or twice when they were within earshot, but I'm trying to train them to leave me alone in the bathroom, not join me there. Inviting them in to hand me a roll of toilet paper is as counterproductive as inviting them to sit across from me on a stool and tell me again all about their favorite YouTuber.

Ah crap.

4. Similarly, having no one to call to when you're in the shower and forget to get a towel. I hate the feel of sopping foot prints on my bathmat, but when you forget the towel, you've got to drip drip drip all the way to the towel closet (surely you all have one of those) and all the way back. Then the bottoms of your feet get all covered in fluff and hair and tiny bits of paper that didn't exist until that very moment, and you will need another shower again to rinse off all the filth. And then you'll have to vacuum your carpets right after that because you had no idea they were so disgusting.

Is there anybody out there?

5. The sole responsibility is on you to remember to drip the faucets when it's cold outside. Okay, this one's personal. But I came home from work yesterday to burst water pipes, and it was all my fault for forgetting to drip the taps just that once. The adulting is too much.

Actual footage of my basement ceiling.

6. Flying solo when the kids are absolutely doing your head in. Let's get to the real parental brass tacks here. When there are two sane adults in the house, one of you is allowed to sometimes succumb to the overwhelming insanity and retreat, while the less perturbed one rallies the troops. But when you're the only adult around, there's no one to pass the buck to. You just have to keep on truckin', and try not to Hulk smash anything.

And it's only 8am, honey.

7. Having no one to pick up the slack when you're sick. I remember last Valentine's Day being surrounded by puking children and feeling pukey myself. While I was lying bed in the middle of the night, trying not to move a single muscle to keep my stomach still, I heard a kid hurl all over the bedroom carpet. I had to soothe a crying child, mop up puke, and suppress my own heaves. It was god-awful. Then there's the times I get a migraine, and even the slightest noise or light makes me crazy. It's those times when the kids decide a mangled Pokemon card is worth fighting to the death over. And don't get me started on what it's like the week before I start my period.

I just can't even.

8. Trying to juggle school nights all on your own. Homework, dinner, cleaning up, bath time, bedtime, kill-me-now. I may pretend to be supermom, but after a full day of work and getting home at 5:30 - 6pm, trying to assist three children to varying degrees with homework, whilst cooking dinner and running a load of dishes and throwing in a load of laundry all before bath and bedtime - after all of that, I feel like the worst mum ever. Plus, my fifth grader's math homework makes me feel like an idiot.

You and me both, kid.

9. Having no one to unwind and be an adult with at the end of the day. After all the hard work is over and the kids are tucked peacefully into their beds, you look around and it's just you. There's no other adult to plop on the couch next to and share a glass of wine with. No one to just look at and laugh off the ridiculousness of your evening with. No adult to vent to about the walls your toddler Sharpied today or that woman at work who drives you crazy. No one to cuddle with while you unwind to an episode of Walking Dead (or The Bachelor, whatever floats your boat). No, it's just you. Some days that's perfect. On other days, it sucks.

Guess I'll just eat this whole cake myself.

10. Feeling overwhelmed when the kids are there and feeling lonely when they're not. Though having the kids 24/7 is overwhelming and at times maddening, when they are at their dad's house, everything feels so empty. My house is just too quiet. I enjoy it the first night, don't get me wrong. I then get a little restless the second night. After a few nights, I start thinking about all their sweet qualities: their hugs and kisses, their funny sayings, their bright eyes, their peaceful faces while sleeping. And I start to miss them, like, in the tenderest part of my heart. I miss them so much, it hurts. It really sucks. Royally.

I even miss their incessant, unintelligible chatter.

Image Sources: Unsplash / Pixabay / Adobe Stock

Advent Thoughts: Part-Time Christmas

For the past I don't know how many years - pause - actually thanks to my blog I can track it back to 2009...

So for the past eight years, I have celebrated Christmas with an Advent Activity Calendar for my kids. Each day leading up to Christmas, instead of chocolate, they pull out a note "from the elves" with an activity for the day. In early years, we did all kind of arts and crafts together to prepare for the holiday, though in recent years the activity lists have gotten a little - I hate to call it lazy but - perhaps less time-consuming? 

(I also used to blog about it. I named the blog project DeBloAdMo, riffing off of NaBloPoMo. However, just as I was always bad about daily blogging during November's National Blog Post Month, I was equally bad at daily blogging my December Blog Advent Month.)

Last Christmas, for the eighth year in a row, we put out the Advent Activity Calendar, but it was an awful month for me and Scott. We chose really easy, low-maintenance activities, and even still we ended up not doing half of them. Part of that was the busyness and excessive travel of the early days of my new job; much was due to the struggles he and I were facing as our marriage crumbled. I didn't even blog about it once, apparently. 

Some people eschew anything that brings back difficult memories. It would've been easier to leave my tree ornaments in the box and buy new ones. It would be easier to do away with old traditions and start new ones that don't remind me of the past. But the pains - and pleasures - of the past make us who we are. They are a part of our tapestry. I don't want to forget any part of my life, not like I could if I wanted to, regardless of where I am now. As I journey on through life, I want to learn from my mistakes, bask in the moments that filled me with joy and respect the obstacles I've faced that have led me to where I am now.

So in keeping with a tradition I have loved, the Advent Activity Calendar went out again this year. It was different this time, and a little weird. I only have the kids every other week, meaning the Advent calendar is only half-filled. It made planning activities easier, but it also feels like it's only Christmas part-time. The tiny empty pockets are kind of sad. (I've been trying not to look at them and see myself missing half my children's lives in those empty little pockets.) 

The feelings of being a part-time parent are difficult to describe. There are pluses and minuses. I would be totally lying if I didn't say I really enjoy having some time to myself. I like having a quiet house, and I love being able to clean a room and it stay clean for a whole week. I enjoy having some free time again to do whatever I want. The freedom is pretty awesome, but I recognize this isn't how it's meant to be. I hate feeling like I'm missing out on time with my children. I hate that they are making memories every other week without me, and making memories without their dad on my weeks. The house gets too quiet sometimes, and I find myself wandering around at a loss for what to do and missing the delight of seeing life through those three pairs of child-sized eyes. It's an indescribable feeling, enjoying being alone and hating being alone.  If I think about it too hard, well, I just get upset over the whole thing.

But ever the optimist, I look at the bright side. When the kids come back to my house after a week away, I am excited to see them again. My patience tank is full. My appreciation for their little quirks is in full swing. My tolerance for their messes is higher, knowing that I'll just clean everything up in a week, and it'll be okay. I am energized and rested and ready to be their mummy full time and to the best of my ability. That's got to be a good thing! And when the week is up, and I'm starting to feel the strain and stress and frustration of being a single mum, they go to a rested, patient, excited-to-see-them daddy. So despite only getting half the month of December with them leading up to Christmas, I've been able to have a lot more fun with them this year, especially with our activity calendar.

Here's what the elves had lined up for this 2017 Advent season:

5 – Drive through Sherwood Forest to look at Christmas lights.

6 – Check email message from Santa. 

7 – Eat dinner by candlelight. 

8 – Drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. 

9 – Cut out snowflakes and hang them around the house.

10 – Choose toys to donate and go see a Christmas movie at the cinema.

11 – Have a sleepover after school with Mimi and Poppi.

19 – Make reindeer food.

20 – Eat Christmas pancakes in pajamas for dinner.

21 – Film a Christmas video for family and friends in Scotland.

22 – Wrap presents to put under the tree.

23 – Make gingerbread men for the Christmas tree.

24 – Go to a carol service, then put out snacks and reindeer food for Santa’s sleigh team!!

Our first week was a lot of fun. The kids were bouncing in their seats and singing "All I Want For Christmas" at the top of their lungs as we drove through the Christmas lights display at Sherwood Forest. Jaguar still believed his email message was actually from Santa (even though Santa pronounced his name wrong) and had the most magical sparkle in his eye as Santa talked directly to him. We enjoyed hot chocolate with gigantic marshmallows for breakfast. (Bad idea, folks, bad idea right before school - they were so hyper!) We went to see Coco together - not a Christmas movie, but one we all LOVED. And last night they spent the night with their grandparents (a total cop-out since I had to travel for work that day, but still looked on as a mid-school-week adventure). 

Confession: We forgot to light the candles for dinner on the 7th. And we have yet to cut out the paper snowflakes. Both of these oversights will be remedied. And as for the toy donation, my youngest refused to part with ANYTHING, so one of the benefits of part-time parenting is I have all week to sort through their toys for them, and they will never notice anything has left the building.

Yes, it feels sad to have those empty pockets, representing little days and precious memories I'm missing out on. In an ideal world, sure, all the pockets would be full. But we make of the world what we choose to make it, and we're making it the best we can for ourselves and for our children. I'm thankful my kids get their daddy as much as they do. I'm happy I get them as much as I do. I'm glad that he and I get along well enough that the kids still get both of us together fairly regularly. The twenty-four days leading up to Christmas this year may be split in half, but Christmas day will be whole, as all five of us open presents together, first at my house then at their dad's, in our new different-kind-of-family way. We know that our new different-kind-of-family will likely morph and grow over the years, that new traditions will develop and some old traditions will fade away. One day all of those pockets will be empty, come to think of it, as the kids grow up and abandon their childhood games. So I'm grateful for the time I have with our kids, grateful for the time they have with their dad, and I'm grateful for the time I get to recharge my own batteries every other week.

It feels like in closing I should say something about when life gives you lemons, but instead, since it's Christmas, let me just say that when life gives you broken eggs, you gotta look on the bright side and make eggnog. 

Though it doesn't hurt to double the rum.

A Decade of Fifi

This little girl made me a mummy ten years ago. Baby Fifi, born a tad early, with complications that would have killed us both 100 years ago, was cut out into this world ten years ago.

She turned this guy into a daddy. She cried a lot and refused to settle for him but managed to wrap herself around his little finger regardless. He worried for her life on that day and still worries for her today, ten years later.

She took two kids and turned them into parents. She taught them how to love something greater than themselves, how to fear all the bad in the world, how to be patient and control their tempers, how to be good at parenting while only seeing how bad they are at it.

And she became her own little person very quickly. A girl who loves learning, loves people and is wise beyond her years.

She became a young woman with ambitions, goals and dreams. She is not afraid of a world that wants to hold women back; she wants to defeat that world and achieve mighty things.

Today she turns ten. A decade of Fifi has made this mummy wiser and yet more aware of how much I have still to learn. This girl teaches me so much. She is an unrelenting yet gracious mirror reflecting all my strengths and weaknesses, all the good in the world and all the challenges. She is strong and tender, honest and careful, teetering on the brink of womanhood but still an innocent child.

I am so honored to be this girl's mother. If I could take credit for her amazing nature, compassion and intelligence, I would. But it's all her. I'm just thankful to the stars I get to love her.

Letters to My Past Self - Part 2

In 2013, I wrote letters to my past self, giving myself the advice I wish I'd been able to give myself when I was 16, 18, 20 (but certainly would have ignored). Mostly it was regarding boys, though some pertained to studying harder and making better financial choices . (Was getting a nose ring and losing your college tuition money from Mom and Dad worth it?) (Yes, kind of.)

I have some more things I'd like to tell past me.

Dear Lori (24),

Don't let anyone tell you to put that baby down more or stop being so obsessive over organic homemade baby food or that using cloth nappies is a waste of your time. This is your time to figure out motherhood on your own, and even though two babies later you will find that putting that baby down more will make life easier and that your baby will still be healthy and thrive if you feed her baby food from a jar* and that cloth nappies are fantastic for the environment and your wallet but holy hell they are a lot of smelly work and it's okay to sometimes reach for the disposable, right now you do exactly what you feel is right and be proud of each decision you make. I stand behind you and all first time mums in all your idealistic and ambitious plans. I'm proud of you.

Love,

Lori (34, mother of three)
*That is, when you don't have time to do baby led weaning, of course. I know you'd hate it if I didn't make that distinction.

******

Dear Lori (29),

Speaking of ambition, let's get one thing straight. You never stopped being ambitious. You never lost yourself. Your brain never turned to mush. You must not keep thinking this about yourself.

You left college with a fantastic job for a recent grad, and at the ripe young age of 22 you went through the entire process of immigration all on your own. You moved abroad. You managed to blag your way into another great job in a field you had no experience in. You kicked serious ass at that job (though your work ethic could probably have been a little better).  You were ambitious, and you knew it.

Then you got pregnant and decided with Scott to become a stay at home mum. And that's where your confidence began to shake.

You stayed out of the traditional workforce for nine years. You believed you had nothing to offer the world other than being a good mum. You believed you were only marginally smart. You stopped believing in yourself. You looked at your friends and saw them as successful, while viewing yourself as barely contributing to society.

STOP THAT.

Girl, let's look at it from my perspective now.

You left the traditional workforce to become the most kick ass mother you could possibly be. You researched every single mothering topic known to womankind. You made conscientious decisions about everything. You did things very differently from what was expected of you, but you did it with confidence, because you were informed and ambitious about mothering.

You were AMBITIOUS about mothering. If you were going to be a stay at home mum, you were going to be the best damn stay at home mum you could be. Ambition isn't just for the workplace. (Shout out to all the ambitious stay at home mums out there. I know for a fact how hard y'all work your asses off.)

Here's something else you may not be realizing.  You weren't just a stay at home mum. You were an entrepreneur, a fundraiser and an active volunteer in your community.

You started four businesses while you were "just a mum". One was successful enough to make a living off of (Wee Honey Bee Childminding), one was as successful as you intended it to be (IntoBento), one scraped by but at least kept breaking even and gave you a lot of joy (TinyTalk), and the one that didn't work (Lori Borealis), you had the sense to drop early.  Ambitious! 

You trained as a breastfeeding peer helper with a national breastfeeding charity. You and your fellow peer helpers started your own local charity and did some really awesome things, including designing a campaign that the NHS of Greater Glasgow and Clyde still uses. You girls started a texting support service for breastfeeding mothers. You had annual general meetings, because you were a real non-profit. You got real speakers in to talk at your AGMs, because you were a real non-profit. You had a non-profit status bank account, because you were a real non-profit. Stop minimizing what you're doing. You and your friends were AMAZING and AMBITIOUS. Mummy brain? Not you ladies. So stop putting yourself down and thinking what you are doing is "nothing special".  Stop thinking you aren't really contributing much to society other than being a pretty good mum. I'd like to retroactively send all of you women a medal of honor. (Honour, rather.)

Um, also, don't forget you wrote and published a book?

Basically, what I'm saying is, stop putting yourself down and thinking you've "lost yourself" and you have "no ambition" and you "aren't smart".  You have always been ambitious in everything you've ever done.  Your priorities changed (and rightly so), but your drive didn't.

And I only JUST realized this very recently myself, so no fault to you for not seeing it whilst in the thick of it.

Love,

Lori (34 and still ambitious)

******

Dear Lori (31),

Your life is about to change in every way. I think you know this. I mean, obviously you know you are leaving your home in Scotland to go back to your home in Arkansas. That's going to change your life drastically. (And I should really go ahead and prep you for this - you won't be moving to Fayetteville when you get there. Scott's going to find a job in Little Rock in a matter of weeks, and you're going to live in Nowheresville for two years. I think it's best I just tell you this now.)  But things are about to change so much more.  Who you are, who you've always seen yourself as, is about to do a complete 180.  You sense this, but you aren't ready to accept it.

You're about to lose your faith.

It's going to destroy you.

I'm not gonna lie about that.

But I swear to you, it's only temporary. That darkness you feel right now is only temporary. I know there's nothing I can say to lighten the load you carry on your shoulders right now. I know there's nothing that can soften the blows you feel every time you pray and hear nothing from God.  I know those tears are going to fall and that they have to fall. Like a mother watching her child go through her first heart break, I feel powerless for you, knowing that things are going to get better but that you can't see that right now. I know this is something you have to go through to get to the other side, but it hurts me to see it and remember it for you.  So I guess all I can say is do everything you can to keep your faith alive. Pray with all your strength. Speak to anyone you trust about this. Write about it, talk about it, paint about it, run and exercise about it.  Because you need to know later that you did everything you could to hold onto that faith, and if God couldn't do the rest, well then, that's that.

The pain of silence and abandonment will pass, and when they do, you will find joy again. Joy unspeakable. Joy in the world as it is, not as it's written to be. You will find strength in yourself you never knew you had even though it was yours all along. You will find love and trust and freedom in ways you never believed could be found in a life without a god. 

But for now, there's no sense in telling you this, because there is no way you can believe it. So just keep doing what you're doing, because you're doing everything right.

I'm sorry you're going through this. Your whole life has been one as a caterpillar, and now you are being torn apart and squished and reshaped and it hurts so incredibly bad. But just wait.

Love,
Lori (34 and you would never believe what I call myself now...)

*****

Dear Lori (32),

Don't be too bummed about the Scottish referendum.  In a couple of years, there will be this thing called "Brexit"...

Love,
Lori (34 with a Scotland tattoo)

Juggling vs Balancing

Tomorrow is my one year workiversary.

This day last year, as I prepared freezer meals and ironed my clothes for my first day at work, I asked some pressing questions about outside-the-home working mums and how they managed all the tasks still required to keep a home running smoothly. Being the perfectionist I am, I needed to know how they could leave the circus but still keep all the juggling balls in the air. After one full year of gainful, outside-the-home employment, I can finally answer those questions.

They can't.

Or maybe "they" can, but I can't. Or maybe I could, but I haven't figured out how yet.

Who takes the car in for oil changes? How do you keep up with the laundry? How does dinner get made every night after you've been working all day?

No one. You can't. It doesn't.

Those are the answers I've discovered anyway. Supermoms out there, please beg to differ. Then give me all your tips. Then give me your housekeeper's and nanny's phone numbers, because I don't believe you.

This is the great, ground-breaking wisdom I have discovered after a year.  Wait for it - this is going to blow your mind:

Some things - a lot of things - have to be let go.

*Cue Elsa in a blue dress making an ice castle*

I hate it, but I'm accepting it. My left-side brain, my obsessive nature, my perfectionist tendencies torment me constantly about the lack of organization in my home, but this is reality. One of our kids is still small. The other two are getting old enough to reliably help me and Scott out. Anyway, it's only for a short time, really. People may judge our yard for its tall weeds and our couch for its pile of (clean) laundry and our floors for the Cheerios stuck to it, but this is life right now. It's not forever, but it is what it is right now.

Sure I could expend energy keeping the house spic-n-span every night, and Scott could expend energy mowing the grass and cooking dinner.  Or... I could keep myself sane by taking an hour to go the gym while Scott takes an hour on Reddit. We could come straight home from work every single night and cook and clean until bedtime, or we could order a pizza every now and then and play with the kids.What's most important right now?

After a year, I'd say that I've settled into my new routine pretty okay. It's not perfect, it's not what I know it could be or exactly how I want it to be, but I'm accepting it for what it is. I know eventually I'll get there (or hire a housekeeper), so for now I'm learning to balance. Balance - isn't that my theme for this year? Balancing instead of juggling all the balls I hold in my hands. And balancing sometimes requires setting a few things down for a few minutes to steady yourself.

Maybe some day in the future I'll reach the perfection I long for, but for now, I'm okay with life being a little messy and a lot imperfect. Or at least, I'm learning to accept it being that way.

Operation: Kick Spring Break Tail

I have nine days in a row off work. Nine! It's Spring Break, and it's my first real vacation from work, aside from random days here and there. I am determined to make the absolute MOST of it. Operation: Kick Spring Break Tail has begun!

It started on Friday after work last week. It was an exhausting day (week, actually, no month - wait, it's ALWAYS exhausting), and I was so relieved to get home and forget about work for a week.  (That didn't really happen. I was up all through the night that night thinking about things I hadn't satisfactorily tied up and stressing about them.) It being the start of Spring Break for the kids too, I promised them they could have friends over. So Friday night, we had two extra girls in the house. Scott worked late, so I had five kids on my own all night. But I refused to let that get me down! We ate frozen pizza for dinner, and I started the break off with a bang - and by bang, I mean cupcakes!

With Cadbury's Mini Eggs

I was told by my two extra children that I was the coolest mom ever. Yes, dears, that's because I haven't yelled at you to clean your room and threatened to take away your allowance.

The next morning, we exchanged those two girls for three different children.  We kept my friends' kids (8 year old and 2 year old) over night so they could have a proper date night and went ahead and also invited over another kid to stay. Why not? Six kids? I used to keep six kids at a time as a childminder. I can take this.

We ordered pizza (pizza two nights in a row, talk about "coolest mom ever") and rented The Good Dinosaur. And ate cupcakes, of course.

Oh, and we dyed everyone's hair. Spring Break gone wild! Whooo!

Sunday morning was Secular Sunday, which is really just our and one other atheist couple's version of once-a-month church. We make a big breakfast, let the kids run around together in their pajamas, and "fellowship". The only church aspect missing is the sermon and the singing. And the praying. And the getting dressed. Okay, it's nothing like church. Yesterday, breakfast ran into lunch, and it was just a super great morning. In the afternoon, I took two of my three kids shopping for Easter outfits. We don't go to church, so it's really just an excuse to buy sweet dresses for my girls and a little suit for my boy, to wear absolutely nowhere. Yay!

Today has been an errands and phone calls day, while Jaguar watches endless episodes of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood and the girls watch Minecraft videos on YouTube. I forgot how leisurely errands can be when you aren't doing them during your lunch break. It's 2pm, and I've spent the day getting the cars assessed, talking to the bank, taking a nap, shopping, and eating pretzels with cheese at Target. I'm considering taking another nap after this. Then I'm going to bake chocolate chip cookies from scratch. I might finish off the night with a dram of whisky and Netflix.

And y'all, it's only Monday! Whooo!

Operation: Kick Spring Break Tail is well on its way. May it never end, like Groundhog Day. 

My Love/Hate Relationship With Snow

Snow day!

Y'all, I LOVE the snow. I love the perfect, untrodden fleece of soft white comforting the ground and the rooftops, the scarves wrapped loosely around tree limbs. I love the serenity of no traffic passing by, no people rushing about, everything halted in time. I love the silence and peace hanging chilly in the air. I love the 6am phone call from the school district announcing the schools are closed and the text from work promising a free day off. I love the excitement of children waking up and seeing the snow outside their frosty windows, the squeals of pure, innocent delight, childhood memories in the making.

 

But y'all, I HATE the snow.

I hate the cold, wet bite of it. I hate the burning sting of it on my skin. I hate the cold, wet cuffs of trousers and sopping, refrozen gloves. I hate to see the untouched bright blanket blinking in the sun destroyed by boot trails and snowballs. Y'all, I'll admit it, I hate snowmen.

But how do I explain that I still love the snow, nonetheless? I love to watch my kids revel in the joy of snowplay, I love to watch my husband turn into a big kid when the snow falls. I love to observe the snow; I just hate to engage with it.

I am the World's Okayest Mom. While I loathe rolling large balls of snow into sad-looking "men" and throwing and/or being hit by snowballs, I do love making hot chocolate and building log fires and watching movies with my family, all the indoor joys of snow. I'll leave the outdoor frozen activities to the big kid I'm married to.

5 Reasons I'm Still Supermom

GLOSSARY

SAHM: Stay-At-Home-Mum

WAHM: Work-At-Home-Mum

WOHM: Work-Outside-Home-Mum

I remember the days in the not so distant past when I was the kind of mummy who wore my babies in slings, breastfed beyond two years, practiced baby-led-weaning, and swore by co-sleeping and never CIO (crying it out). I was the kind of mummy who sat around with her friends drinking tea and talking about the best way to gently discipline without spanking, why attachment parenting is the best way to go, how to prepare the best home remedies for minor ailments, and where we could find fluoride-free toothpaste. I was the kind of mummy who did crafts with her kids, read them books before bedtime, made gorgeous bento box lunches to send with them to school, and took them on playdates to the park with other SAHMs and their kids for some good old fashioned Vitamin D.

I liked being that mummy. I admire that mummy. She was pretty all right.

Now I'm the kind of mummy who forgets to send back signed forms to the school, who runs out of clean uniforms before Friday because she hasn't done the laundry, and who packs pre-packaged food in disposable, non-environmentally friendly bags for lunch.  The mummy who lets them watch too much TV so she can catch a break and shouts way too much when they get unruly.

It's so easy to compare the SAHM me to the WOHM me and see the latter as inferior.  I idealize the former and remember her as certainly far more serene than she actually was, while criticizing the latter. Here's the deal: I need to give the current me some credit. I need to stop comparing and cut myself some slack.

So instead of dwelling on all the things I'm not doing so much anymore, it's time I look at the bright side of the new WOHM me.  Here are five things I am doing right as a mother:

1. I'm modeling feminist empowerment.
This in fact is what I've been doing all along. As a SAHM, I showed my kids that a woman can do whatever she believes is right for her life. I modeled positive feminist values by choosing to stay home with my kids, while my husband supported us, because it was what I (we) believed in.  As a WAHM later down the line, I showed my kids that a woman can start her own business and be creative in finding ways to make money and support her family. I showed them that a woman can both take care of household jobs and run a business and be fulfilled in all these activities. Now, as a WOHM, I am demonstrating that a woman can have a career and be a mother, that women can be as successful as men, and that if a woman wants to work outside the home, she should do so. A woman can do whatever is right for her at whatever stage of her life she is in.  Whether she is a SAHM, WAHM or WOHM, she can be successful and fulfilled in all she does.

(As a side note, Scott has also been modeling feminist values to our children by supporting and agreeing with my work choices all along the way. He shows our son how to respect a woman's capabilities and personal autonomy, while also showing our daughters how a man can and should respect a woman's capabilities and personal autonomy. My husband is a seriously awesome feminist.)

2. I'm not afraid to say I'm sorry.
When the kids act mean or rude, I expect them to apologize. When I act mean or rude, I apologize too. Often times my fuse can be short, and I react no better than a child. When I blow things out of proportion or throw a hissy fit, I am not afraid to say I'm sorry to my kids. I'm not perfect, and if my kids haven't already discovered this, they will soon enough. Teaching them to apologize by example is a life skill I am able to teach on a regular basis! It is not a sign of weakness for a parent to apologize to a child when the parent is in the wrong; it's a demonstration of maturity and humility.

(Side note. Scott is awesome about apologizing to the kids too. We also say we are sorry to each other in front of the kids anytime we have a fight. Apologies aren't just for children.)

3. I talk to them openly about social issues and current events.
We listen to NPR in the car nearly everywhere we go (and when it's not NPR, it's really good music, which is also something we're doing right), and our kids ask us often about the news they hear. We talk openly about the current events and social issues that are discussed. Whether it's a white police officer who shot a black man for no reason, a gay couple being refused a marriage license, the presidential debates, Syrian migrants, or religious freedom, we talk openly about it. We ask the kids to think these things through themselves and encourage them to come up with their own solutions and opinions. We do our best to make our kids aware of the larger world around them and to see themselves as activists who can make the world a better place. Between our three kids, we have a future President of the United States, a schoolteacher, and a Power Ranger. How more activist could they get?

4. I laugh with them.
All these "I I I"s should really be "We We We"s. Scott is 100% all of these things too. As a family, we make a point of being silly as often as possible. We're a bunch of sarcastic so-and-sos who tease the crap out of each other and play silly pranks on each other and make jokes about everything. Sometimes things have to be taken seriously, but we make a point of being lighthearted whenever we can. Life is short and laughter is free.

5. I read.
They say one of the best things you can do for a child's academic success is have books in the home. We are rebuilding our home library after selling everything, and we make it a priority to give the kids plenty of access to books for themselves. Besides just having books in the home, we aim to actively cultivate a love of reading in our kids. We may not have the same perfect routine we used to have of reading books every night before bed, but reading is still a huge part of our family life. My youngest loves being read to, my middle is discovering how exciting it is to sound out the words and read for herself, and my oldest is never further than arm's reach away from a novel twice the size of her. And besides just encouraging them to enjoy reading, I often have my nose in a book too. Without even trying, I am demonstrating a love for reading. I carry one (sometimes two) books with me everywhere I go, and I simply love to read. Actively instilling this in them as well as modeling it in myself is a parenting win. I may not cook organic meals, but I will read the crap out of some books then pass them on to a kid.


READERS:
What is something YOU are doing right in your life? When the easiest thing to do is see all the things you're doing wrong, take a minute to jot down some of the things you are doing right, and share them here!

Too Stressed To Think of a Title

I am stressed.

Stressed, like, beyond anything I've ever known.

I underestimated my worth as a stay-at-home-mum, but now that I'm a working mum, I realize just how much I did when I was at home.

I stayed home with the kids when they were sick.

I took them to doctor's appointments and dentist visits.

I took the cats to the vet.

I paid the bills (on time).

I took letters to the post office.

I went to the bank.

I made calls to sort out doctor's appointments, bill queries, banking issues.

I took the cars in for oil changes and maintenance.

I cleaned out the cars.

I cleaned the house.

I kept on top of the laundry.

I kept on top of the dishes. 

I made menus and grocery lists and did the grocery shopping.

I prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I even got in my "me time" by going to the gym and keeping fit and healthy.

Now?

All those things still need to get done, but Scott and I both need to leave the house by 7:30 to get the kids to school and daycare and get ourselves to work by 8. We both push ourselves mentally to the limit daily from 8-4:30, only occasionally taking an hour for a lunch break, before heading back home to collect the kids. By the time we get home, it's too late to run errands or make phone calls. By the time we've done homework with the kids, eaten a late dinner, and put all the little people to bed, it's time to tackle all the chores.  

Throw into the mix moving into a new house, where the errands, bills, and housework are thrown into overdrive. We are surrounded by boxes we have no time to empty and loose ends we have no time to tie. We had the old house to clean too, and all the old utilities to reconcile. 

This weekend we drove nine hours to Texas to visit family which was AMAZING (minus the driving part) and fun. But upon arriving back home at 1:45am and seeing the mess my house is in and knowing I'd have to be getting up for work in just five hours was devastating. I thought I'd also get the grocery shopping for the week finally done, after living the last two weeks on takeout, but that never happened either.  

Next week, my in-laws from Scotland are coming. The guest room is still full of boxes and no bed.

I never realized before how tough working mamas have it.  I worked full time from home for several years, which was extremely taxing, but I had no idea how hard it would be to work outside the home and not be able to get daytime tasks accomplished. Some people joke that going to work is a break from the kids, but my job is just one loooong day of a shitload too much to do. I go home from working nonstop all day to thinking of all the things that didn't get done at work and at home that need to get done. I wake up in the middle of the night trying to work out problems that won't let me get back to sleep. I remember half way through my work day that I never paid the car payment but I can't do anything about it because I'm at work. All my perfectly organized systems and daily itineraries are shot. My days run into each other bringing to close week after week without my realizing where the time has gone.

I am stressed.

I tell myself that in time it'll all come together. I'll make a new, albeit busier, routine and fall comfortably into it. But at the moment, I can't see that anywhere. All I see is a rocky landscape stretching to the horizon, and me climbing and tripping over the boulders and loose stones trying to go forward under the glare of a blistering, blinding midday sun. And all that's in the horizon for me is more rocks.

Usually, when I catch myself in danger of depression, I see myself slipping down a steep slope. I see it as a fast, slick descent. Right now, I see it as something I'm pushing myself into, unable to go any other direction other than full force straight into it, because that's the direction and inertia of my life.

How do you working mothers do this? How do you balance work and home? How do you spend all day expending your mental powers on the job and then come home to children who need attention and affection and patient help with homework, without totally coming unglued? 

I want to be that mother who comes home from work and pulls all the children onto her lap like a box full of kittens and snuggles them all with sitcom-worthy good nature before setting the whole family down for a healthy meal of meat and two vegetables. Who then brushes all the teeth and reads all the bedtime stories and tucks in all the blankets and coos as she turns out all the lights. Who throws in a load of laundry, washes all the dinner dishes, and then cuddles up with her husband on the couch with a glass of wine and a happy smile on her face. Who then wriggles into her perfectly made bed (done every morning, of course) with a book to read before slipping easily off to her eight hours of healthful sleep, fresh and ready for the 6 o'clock alarm the next morning.

Instead, I'm the mother who curses at the traffic on her way home from work, who picks up the kids from daycare and screams at the them because they have immediately begun to fight as soon as they get into the car over car seats and seat belts. Who gets home to a messy house and feels a massive headache come on as she tries to figure out what to throw together for dinner in a pinch because she hasn't had time to go to the grocery store in two weeks. Who feels guilty over the lack of vegetables on the plates and the overabundance of starches.  Who then loses her temper when the kids refuse to get dressed for bed because they have suddenly remembered that they have homework they need help with. Who snaps at her husband who also has been working all day over the tiniest things because her patience is gone and the house is a mess and even though they are both trying to carry their weight, the weight is too heavy. And when the kids are finally in their beds, after yet another night with no bedtime story, she looks at all the work that needs to be done and just cries as she moves from room to room doing small tasks that lead to other small tasks that make her feel she has done nothing at all when she looks back over the whole thing. Who collapses into bed without washing her face because she's too exhausted to fucking care that her face is going to break out and eyeliner is going to smudge all over her pillowcase.

That's the beautiful image I see of this girl right here. Hi, I'm Lori, the evil, stressed out arch nemesis of Supermom. Nice to meet you.

The Difference Between a Screen Door and a Porch

A beautiful and wise friend left a comment on my "Screen Doors" post recently. I started to reply in the comments section, but her words said so much, I decided to post them here before replying.

When you were a Christian, didn't you sometimes feel that you had to hold back about expressing your beliefs, for fear of putting a huge block in your relationship with your atheist friends? We all make mistakes and (I think) just stumble along in life. I can be quite critical of others until I realize how many time I put my own foot into my own mouth. So I am not trying to defend anything here, and I figure for every person with fairly clear thinking and fairly good motives, there may be a completely muddled and selfish person, Christian or atheist alike. But I'm trying to say that I think maybe a screen door is an attempt to avoid building a brick wall. I say this because my youngest son hit a faith crisis right about the same time you declared your atheism. I don't think he'd say he's an atheist. I think he believes there is a God; he just doesn't particularly like God right now. Between the two of you, my world has been rocked with a massive sense of loss. Yet I have hope in my Lord, and I pray for Him to reveal His light and beauty and grace. When I held my tiny baby boy and felt all that mother-love for him, when I nursed him and burped him, washed him and dressed him, cared for him and delighted in how cute he was and the funny things he said and did, I never imagined that we would be here at this point today. I still love him with all my heart, but there are many things I cannot say to him. To me, this is my screen door: I am open to him, I long to have a full relationship with him. I pray for him multiple times every day. He is always welcome in my home. I love to be able to cook for him, or do his laundry, although he rarely allows me to. When he wants to talk, I am ready, I respond. But I have to wait. I have to wait for him to open the door. My screen door is unlocked and I stand behind it watching the horizon for his silhouette, hoping like crazy that he will come home and turn the handle.

First, let me say what a beautiful picture she just painted. It brings tears to my eyes. I remember lying on my side in the still and silent hours of the night, cradling my nursing infant son in the crook of my arm and crying noiseless tears over the enormity of my responsibility to him.  As I struggled with my own faith during those days and months, I prayed with all the strength of my being that he would grow to love God and that he would be saved. Nothing frightened me more than the idea of my perfect baby boy (or either of my perfect girls) rejecting Jesus as their Savior and spending eternity in hell. I remember the passion, the pain and the desperation I felt as I begged the Lord to spare my children, to spare this innocent child at my breast, to give them all life everlasting, in spite of my own shortcomings.

I remember like it was yesterday.

And I can only imagine it gets harder with age, as these young people develop into their own selves, and create their own identities and pursue their own paths. For a believing mother to watch her child struggle with faith or turn from it completely must be heart-wrenching agony to say the least.

But to respond further to what my friend said, let me say that I don't think she has put up a screen door at all.  Judging by her words, it sounds more like she and her son are both sitting on the porch swing, sipping a glass of iced tea together and trying to understand.  They've met in the middle.

I feel like this with my own mom. I know it kills her that I'm not a believer anymore. I know her heart aches, and I know the number of tears she has shed is uncountable. But she's not hiding inside behind a screen door, keeping me out, waving to me from a distance. She has stepped outside, feeling a little out of her comfort zone, to meet me on the porch. And I too have had to step out of my comfort zone to join her there. It's not comfortable for me to face the pain my unbelief causes her, but I do not want to walk away or avoid her. I would rather walk up those steps and join her on the porch, both of us feeling a little unsure of what to say but allowing love to fill the silences.

I think that's where I used to put myself as a believer with unbelieving friends.  They weren't in my church buildings or on my mission trips, and I wasn't exactly where they were. But we met in middle. I wanted them in my church, perhaps, and they probably would've loved for me to living free and easy where they were "in the world" (as I'd have considered it). But if Christians. or any other version of believers, hide behind their closed doors or screen doors, they will never touch the lives they long to touch, and they will miss out on relationships with amazing people. And if non-believers stay off the property of believers, wanting nothing to do with them, they will miss the love and friendship of some wonderful, beautiful people. There is discomfort on both sides, and there is sometimes misunderstanding or miscommunication. But if we can join each other on the porch, we can learn to speak one another's languages and start to understand. There can be love freely given and freely received.

For me, it's uncomfortable sometimes to feel like someone's mission project. Sometimes, taking those steps up onto the porch is daunting. I am confident in what I believe (and don't believe); I don't want to preached at or "reached out to". However, until I join you on the porch, I'll never know if you've just got a religious agenda to "save" me or if you truly, genuinely care about me.

For you, it's uncomfortable to feel judged or ridiculed for your beliefs.  Taking those steps means you might be vulnerable to someone's scorn or rejection.  You might be vulnerable to your own pain and worry for them and their souls.  You don't want to be mocked or attacked, and you want to guard your heart. But until you join me on the porch, you'll never know if I just have an atheist agenda or if I just truly, genuinely care about you.

My friend, you haven't just left your screen door open and unlocked for your son.  You have confronted your discomfort and have stepped outside to meet your son on the porch. I hope he has joined you there.  I hope that it is there, in the slightly humid air, on a slightly stiff swing, that the two of you can feel the cool evening breeze of understanding and love that makes sitting on that porch worth the uneasiness that such a fundamental divide stirs within the both of you.