#and apple got to experience being disappointed by the parent she placed on a pedestal for the first time ever? that was really fun

[s-aint-elmo]

no thoughts head empty the oppressive stagnancy of legacy in ever after high dragging me round the block yet again

it's such a shame that we get so little explanation about the actual mechanics of destiny, which is the entire premise of the show, bc it's so juicy. like what power does destiny hold when you rip away milton's lies and centuries of assumptions and traditions. esp bc despite raven signing herself as the evil queen in the real storybook of legends, when the snow white fairytale actually happens in dragon games she's playing one of the seven dwarves and her mother has reprised her role. like how much of that was because of the characters' actions and how much was destiny pulling on old, familiar threads. keeps me up at night.

a lot of this is probably just like, plot holes and writer hot potato but i like making it that deep, that's half of the fun. my personal interpretation is that fate is a wild thing that desires repetition and they developed the system of fairytale legacy bloodlines to keep those repetitions predictable and contained, instead of wreaking havoc whenever and wherever they please. 

which lends itself to some really juicy exploration of how legacy is a duty as much as it is a privilege, and how to be a princess or a witch or a hero or a dragon is to be the same thing in the end: the lamb destiny slaughters on the altar to sate the ever-ravenous narrative. to keep the flock safe. keep the unknown that prowls beyond the beaten path at bay. because if a there is always a mother who will be cruel, or a maiden who will fall into a sleep like death, or a child who will become a bird, isn’t it better to know who, and how, and when? isn’t better if it’s you, who has known your whole life that you must be eaten, be poisoned, be stripped of your humanity, rather than anybody else, who wasn’t raised to see it as an honour instead of a great and terrible injustice?

[kizardofkoz]

Life Robbers

My now-middle-child sits three feet from me, wearing a ridiculously cute alligator pajama top, holding a juice box of apple water (yes, this apparently exists for the crunchy parents’ juice-box solution), completely transfixed on, and interacting with Diego and Dora - or the two most annoying voices on television, while he is naked from the waist down, sitting on his training potty. 

When he stands, there is a red horse shoe around his bottom from sitting on the training potty for so long. And we wait. He drinks liquids, and we wait. There are the remnants of blue face paint and silver glitter on his left cheek from a birthday party yesterday afternoon, which looks more like he spent a rager at Studio 54 last night - because if we had a kid who did that, it would be this one. He drinks more liquids. And we are still waiting. He has no idea what he’s doing but he’s so damn cute doing it. Blair is the embodiment of effervescent joy mixed with hilarity, roaring, and fuzzy, light. Potty training is definitely challenging, but this moment is actually quite amazing. 

I am present and I am grateful.

For now.

I feel like I am continuing to have the same theme and conversations repeating in my life right now. I read once how God will keep giving you the same lesson over and over again until you learn it. Well, I’m finally listening to you, Oh Beautiful Relentless One, so you can cut the crap, because I’ve got it:

Life Robbers.

*Side Note: At this chapter in my life, it takes about an entire day to write, edit, and post one essay, because, damn, life. It is now 3:01pm in the afternoon. The two youngest are napping, the oldest is enjoying a day and overnight with cousins at Gemmy & Pop Pop’s, and I feel I have probably a precious 30 minutes, 1 hour max, to pump this bad boy out. The REAL reason I write this excerpt, is to say: Friends! Blair has successfully peed AND Pooped in the potty! Holy shit!!! (Emphasis on the later) The excitement I have felt the first time my sons have peed or pooped when potty training, is possibly one of the biggest highs of my last 5 years. I don’t even care if that is pathetic because to me it was pure elation. And it is equally as amazing to see your child so proud of himself. And by proud of himself, I mean also very excited because he knows if he poops he gets a cupcake.

 I am trading in size 6 diapers for type 2 diabetes, and I am perfectly fine with that.*

Anyways!

LIFE ROBBERS:

Life Robbers are the thoughts and feelings of pain, disdain, disappointment, and jealousy because you feel you, your life, your possessions or job, are not enough.

We get so hyper focused on enough, and more, and how much income, how much house, what kind of car, obsessing over clothing, shoes, obsessing over our children’s clothing and shoes, the new rug, instrument, gadget, vacation, what gym, what school we send our children to, what nice restaurant we go to celebrate after getting into that school, what amazing meal to order, what freaking mattress we go to sleep on and what white noise machine we need playing in the background as we are trying to fall asleep, looking at our phones, surveying and measuring ourselves against other people’s parades and photos of all of the things they had obtained, and we are subconciously seeing who’s winning. And the answer is no one.

As a culture, we are spiraling one another into a complete obsession of what will make us happy only by comparing ourselves to what seems to make everyone else happy, and we have become this massive ouroboros. 

We look at what our neighbors (Facebook, Instashit, etc.) are doing and buying and vacationing and experiencing, and then we can’t help but feel like we aren’t happy or successful enough. And the crazy thing is, the very people we are comparing ourselves to, have quite possibly done the exact same thing to us. And I have literally allowed hours and afternoons be robbed from me because jealousy is a beast. And she’ll rob you blind.

I didn’t even know I was unhappy until I had gotten on Facebook.

And I know I am not alone.

*Side note, it is now FOUR DAYS LATER. !  In this case, my life and time have been robbed by, life and time. And work and boys and nursing and meals and one really hard workout that my legs are still paying for, a dinner with some new friends, lots of sausages (you can interpret that in any way you want and it’s likely accurate) and zero alcohol. !!! Mama’s gone back hard-core, on the Paleo wagon. I’m driving that bad boy. Or perhaps, I’m pulling that wagon behind me as part of my daily W.O.D., while I sweat, cry, and shake from muscles that are so confused by my 5 year pattern of pregnancy, getting into shape, repeat as desired. And those damn simple carbohydrates that I worship during pregnancy, happen to be the #1 enemy of baby weight. So now I have to act like I don’t even like them anymore while I consume all things protein, veggie, and coconut. Except for Saturdays. CHEAT DAY. When my heart rate and insulin levels try to match my enthusiasm.

Donuts, champagne, cheese, or pizza?

OR?

ALL!!! 

FOR BREAKFAST!!!*

ANYWAYS!

I have been having repeating conversations with other women in my life about this same struggle of feeling like crap because our lives aren’t measuring up to what we think they should be. Or often, we didn’t realize they weren’t measuring up until we saw someone else’s.

I am so guilty of putting wealth and things on a pedestal. I don’t know where this comes from, but one of the saddest, deepest parts of me is so enthralled by sparkly, beautiful, interesting, vapid, material things. I do, however, also possess this marrow that also craves minimalism, ease, wants to live off the land and wear nothing but linen and hemp. I will say, I actually feel like my *style* rather reflects these two worlds, in what my husband likes to refer to as “global glam” when he’s being kind, or “art teacher chic” when he’s being honest. In his defense, I’m always about two strands of turquoise away from being the woman that you picture listening to NPR while painting watercolor in her library.

So unfortunately, the More-ness-Life-Robber-Beast comes in many other forms, not just the insatiable need for material things. A girlfriend opened up about the hurt and jealousy she felt when she saw a group of friends from her past had met up without her. That all-too-familiar feeling of 6th-grade ache and agony sucked time, energy and happiness from her day. Which is so ashamed, because this girlfriend is one of the most caring and selfless people I have ever met, and that group should have felt robbed of the joy of getting to hear her laugh.

And all of this, I believe, is a byproduct of the gash damn social media bullshit.

This was not an issue for our mothers and I think that is part of the disconnect in our generations. They have no idea what it is like trying to be an adult woman and parent in the world that has Nothing But Exposure to:

 The grossly demonstrative overshare of what everyone else is doing (which people tend to naturally only share the best parts)

Status, wealth, and luxury, and how the middle class can, could, and should be striving to obtain this - or at least exhaust ourselves trying

 A complete myriad of blogs (Why, hello there!), articles, journals, websites, and endless information of how to live, raise thriving children, and exist in this world that is constantly trying to tell us that what we have is never enough and shame us for feeling like that, at the same time.

We praise metallic Birkenstocks, Farm-raised-anything, rose gold everything, exercise, Madewell, and mindfulness, all in pretty much the same breath.                         Or Prayanama.

It is completely exhausting and we are the byproduct of this technological avenue of awareness -- and it makes me even more scared for our children, and what type of technology will exist then, and what kind of pressure that will place on their lives, hearts, and relationships.

We are already robbing their lives every time we show them that we value things, our phones, and our money, more than we do them. 

And Ourselves.

So what do we do?

(*I DON’T TOTALLY KNOW*, but let's just start by being honest...)

1. Get Off Facebook. Get off Instagram. Take a step back to breathe again, and reset the priorities for our lives. I took an unplanned week off of Facebook a week ago, as did another girlfriend. Each day I felt lighter and happier. I had no idea how often I reach for my phone to kill time on that damn app. I was way more content with my life, not comparing my lack of vacations or experiences this summer to others. And I wasn’t trying to capture the perfect photo of the favorite moment of my day to share. In the morning when nursing, instead of scrolling through my feed, I prayed.     Holy shit what a novel idea.

I was free. And it felt amazing.

(I have also since returned to Facebook, but already use it much less, and I feel way more relaxed and removed -- which is exactly how I want to feel when regarding media and the internet. And AI.)

2. A few weeks ago we stayed home from church for a reason I can not remember but I’m sure it was completely valid. To redeem our souls, we decided to spend a little time reading, meditating, and praying. Pretty positive we were 1 for 3. It’s not like gestating boys.

However. My husband read this to me and it was one of the most profound, overwhelmingly reverberating passages I have ever come across in my life.

The Encheiridion (or Manual)

by,

Epictetus (FANCY!)

Of things some are in our power, and others are not. In our power are opinion, movement toward a thing, desire, aversion; and in a word, whatever are our own acts: not in our power are the body, property, reputation, offices, and in a word, whatever are not our own acts. And the things in our power are by nature free, not subject to restraint nor hindrance: but the things not in our power are weak, slavish, subject to restraint, in the power of others. Remember then that if you think the things which are by nature your own, you will be hindered, you will lament, you will be disturbed, you will blame both gods and men: but if you think that only which is your own to be your own, and if you think that what is another's as it really is, belongs to another, no man will ever compel you, no man will hinder you, you will never blame any man, you will accuse no man, you will do nothing involuntarily, no man will harm you, you will have no enemy, for you will not suffer any harm.

What I feel this is so brilliantly saying, is that we are released from the pressure of responsibility or obsession that we feel to make our lives as perfect as possible. The idea of “the body” not being in our power is a beautiful and mind blowing philosophy, yet echoes the several moments in the bible when we talk about how our “flesh is weak”.

And I feel this so poignantly puts how I have been feeling:

We can be free.

Other people’s possessions were never ours, so why give them the power to weigh us down? We no longer need to feel the weight or pressure of what others have acquired or obtained because we have no ownership over it.

I truly belive by choice and practice, we can have freedom from:

A.) Jealousy and worry, that we don’t have enough, or the newest, most interesting, cool, or clever, etc. bull shit.

B.) The universal need to gratuitously exhibit our lives. It kills me to think that someone ever looked at my photos or life and felt jealousy or longing. 

Our affluence isn’t the kind that brings valuables into our lives, but our riches are the kind that make our lives valuable.

(Like what I did there?)   

I have a husband who loves me, even when we can’t agree on the importance of excel spreadsheets. 

I have three healthy boys that are the cutest and hardest creatures that I have ever encountered. 

I have a house with a working air conditioner the St. Louis summer.          And sometimes fall and spring. And likely the winter. 

And I have a tribe of girlfriends that are perhaps one of the best daily displays of God’s love, humor, and armor for me.

I am actually implausibly wealthy.

At the same time, I have loads and loads of laundry that needs to be washed, folded, and heaven forbid, actually put away.

I have a baby that 95% of the time, can not nap longer than 45 minutes because of his horrible reflux and gas.

We have a backyard that is likely 70% identifiable and unidentifiable species of weeds and plants we did not plant, or that we neglected and they took over - which, I get it, they earned that real estate.

There are very likely at least three things that are rotting in my fridge at any given moment.

I am scared of switching to my fall schedule where I will *mom all day* and then teach piano lessons until 9:00pm at night.

I am scared of paying for the preschool tuition for our older two boys and how that will undeniably affect the rest of our month / lives.

I am scared that the part of me that has struggled with weight and body image issues since I was 8 years old will still be anxious and unsatisfied when I’m 80.

Will we ever live in a bigger home where I can have my own, physical, studio for my business?

Will money ever not feel tight?

Are we raising our boys to be empathetic, kind, compassionate, and confident - while instiling the responsibility and maturity to know how to possess and demonstrate those virtues?

Will Blair’s hair ever change? I both really hope it won’t, and I also really want him to have friends.

These things, these are also my Life Robbers.

The bone in me that is industrious and strives for success and hustles and runs businesses, it is the same bone that lies awake at night worrying about all of these things and so much more. 

And I fear it’s starting to break from the pressure.

So now, when I am online, and I start to feel the sensations - usually beginning with a heat and tightness in my throat, a bit of lightness in my head, and an uncomfortable weight in my chest, I will recognize that jealousy, hug her, and let her go. Because that ungrateful wench has never really done anything nice for me anyway, even when I bought her so many beautiful things.

Or at night when I want to cry from the anxiety of imagining how I am going to make our future work with my lesson schedule and being able to both afford all of the opportunities and activities that will spark my children - make them feel excited, strong, and proud, and how will I ever attend a practice, game, or performance when I am stuck behind a piano bench because of my work hours, especially when I need to work to pay for the very practice they are attending... I will take that anxiety, embrace her as well, and exhale her back into the night.

First like a dragon, and then like the ocean.

All of these concerns, while they are in my periphery and path, they are not completely in my power. 

And I daily and hourly remind myself that there is a Greater Power that I can breathe my faith, energy, and concern into.

And I know I no longer want to sacrifice minutes, hours, or days to my Life Robbers.

I absolutely no longer want to sacrifice a single minute of sleep to a Life Robbers.

Because this mama has way more important things to focus on.

Like pretending I am going to do laundry.

And potty training a bubble.

And even after all of that, I still post my photos. Because, tradition.

Imma need this cookie and lightning bolt to match my shirt, 100%.

Sorry, Brix. You get a slumber party with cousins, we get delicious ramen. 

Steve’s eyes, Brix’s lips, Satan’s gas.

Christmas pjs in July? I’m sorry, do you not like to party?