Day story

January 2020

Outside my window, I admired sunrises in the early morning on my runs. January hasn't been as successful as I would have liked between the head cold, the temps below 20 degrees, and the wisdom tooth issues. However, I did stick to my weekly goal of getting 3 miles on my long day and am working toward making 3 miles my default run as I increase to 5 miles on my long days. I enjoy running first thing, and I have appreciated temperatures in the 30s as a mild break from 20s and below.

Giving thanks for the slow and quiet of this month. Glad for rest when it came. Glad for warmth. Glad for visits with friends. Glad for a new year on 66 Books. Thankful.

In the school room, we are encouraged and refreshed to finish out the year. Found a group that shares our love for learning, and I'm excited to have Erin join in on activities. Answered prayer. So grateful.

From the kitchen, Lanie is now gf/df, and the transition has been full of grace as many foods we enjoyed have easy switches or were already df too. So that's a blessing.

I am missing yoga.

I don't want to forget what these past three years have been. Sometimes I do want to forget because of all the sadness, but it's the truth and transformation I focus on. It's still a process. My dad died three years ago today, and I had no idea how dramatically my life would change. What more can I say? That Shane said I cry out to my dad in my sleep--dreams I don't remember? That I have had choking, suffocating dreams about him and I wake up gasping? That I've woken up actually crying? That I think about him every day, and I struggle with the man he was? These past three years were hard, but all the years before them carried their own burdens. And now I know. On, on.

I am reading The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman with Erin, and we are on chapter seven of eight, and I find myself in that place again of not wanting to finish a book because I don't want it to end. We are both a little saddened because we have loved the writing and the story. I recently finished (after likely 6 months of renewals before I finally made myself read the book) Joseph and the Way of Forgiveness by Stephen Mitchell. Reading a copy of Inspire Your Home by Farah Merhi, as well as When Less Becomes More by Emily Ley. I check out so many books from the library and mostly skim through them. But trying to really reduce the amount I check out and commit to reading them and enjoying them.

Around the house, we painted the school room Benjamin Moore's Balboa Mist, which the girls insisted was a shade of light purple, and it's gray. Not purple. I love the freshness of the color over the Benjamin Moore Frappe we had originally (a happy yellow). The space feels brighter and new. I took the opportunity to thin out some things from the spaces, and am recommitting to keeping the piles off the school table. God, help me. Also working on establishing good routines around here, and in January fashion, started strong but also all over the place. I think I can smoothly transition into February.

I am hearing Lanie practicing on the keyboard. She has taken on a student too, and I am so very happy for the very good things that have happened to her this year. Her life blossoms, and there is a sweet fragrance of relationships as new people enter our world (her world, and mine by association). We visited a church member recovering at a rehabilitation center, and it brought back so many feelings about nursing homes, and I felt melancholy.

A view of my favorite things:

free gift snack box!

see you in 2025

Changing the colors, and the kids thought the top and bottom colors looked purple

Cold weather walking

Love that guy!

#excellence #value

Ruth and Nella

On her second birthday

Lanie snagged my phone

At the table, we celebrated Ruth's second birthday and Christmas with Denise. And in my heart I celebrate still, running, homeschooling, following through, and letting go.

Margin

When I first started goal getting, I had my monthly/weekly/daily spots so full that it was one enormous to-do list. I checked off items here and there, but I didn't check them all off. Really, the only difference between how I was living my life before and how I was living it at that time was the fact that I had all the to-do on one page written in colorful markers.

Then I got smaller and got serious. I picked a couple of areas and focused on those. And finally, things changed.

One thing I learned last year was that I don't know all the things I want to do. I have some ideas of things I want to achieve, but truly, some of what happened last year was the result of having margin in my life and saying yes to possibility.

I made a vision board recently after being inspired by some other women in the goal group, but really, the vision was mostly hindsight. Many of the things I put on there I had already experienced in 2019. I decided to myself, I certainly would like more of the goodness I experienced last year, but I want to leave room for God, because of his plans last year, I have the most treasured memories. Thank you, God.

So, margin. Here's what it looked like yesterday: In my weekly planner, I had our Monday scheduled roughly as this--laundry, homeschool, co-op. There was a note about what I was making for dinner last night, and some tasks I hoped to accomplish but could be moved to other points in the week.

And this is what yesterday looked like: Erin woke up with a colossal knot in her hair that hurt her too much to brush out. She wanted me to cut the knot out. And seeing this as my opportunity to give that girl a haircut, I pulled out my Creaclip and scissors and cut off five inches of her hair. She is adorable, and she feels brand new. We homeschooled. I sadly declined a recent invitation to learn about 3d printers because it conflicted with my teaching time at co-op. The host responded to come late, so last minute, I packed up snacks and Erin, brought her to co-op, included Lanie and Erin in a spelling prep test race with my grammar class, played two rounds of Exploding Kittens with the class, headed out to a presentation, and met some really cool people. Our world just grew a little bigger. Our memories a little richer. Erin was most surprised at all the unexpected the day held for her (especially the part about getting sheared).

I value margin, room to live and breathe and be open to possibility.

Interesting to think if I had planned all that out, it could have felt like tasks. But because the day was so flexible, it felt more like an adventure. Just thinking about perspective.

On excellence

One of the things I value is excellence. I mean, really, no one setting goals aspires to be half-hearted or just good enough (likely that's the launching place of goal setters to begin with!). I totally understand feeling half-hearted (or flat out resistant) to tasks and occasions that are unpleasant (co-op orientation and icebreaker brunch, anyone?). I value people who give their best--they are examples of hard work, integrity, creativity and diligence. I try to encourage my kids to always do their best, and continually remind them that doing their best is not synonymous with perfection. Do what you can, with all your heart, with what you've got. My best at piano playing is nothing close to Lanie's best, and I'm totally ok with that.

So in the occasion of championing the things I value this year, I focused January on excellence. And then co-op went back into session, and ohmygosh, three weeks off from someone else's schedule was hard to part with, returning to a grind I regret committing to, and we're not even halfway through. I know I resisted and grumbled. I also know that driving Lanie to school that first day back, we were both trying to muster enthusiasm to do our best in circumstances we didn't want to be in. That was a Monday.

Tuesday I got sick.

Thankfully, Wednesday was a snow day, but I would have been off because of an art class scheduled during my teaching time, so grace does abound.

I was holding my own in the sickness (a cold of all things), and thought that I would be done in no  time, but I was wrong. By Wednesday afternoon, all I wanted to do was sleep. My head was stuffy. I felt like a bear. The sneezing wanted to break my body apart. And then coughing kicked in. It was a cold, but considering I rarely get sick, I was not prepared to feel so awful.

Shane said, "I don't know what's worse. When you get sick, you're mad at the world. When I get sick, you're mad at me!" And I laughed because it's true. I recognize I have little compassion for people moping around with a cold--including me.

All I wanted to do was eat soup and sleep, but the world didn't stop for me. I still had schooling to do with Erin. I still had laundry to do and tidying to keep up with and his lunch to pack and groceries to buy and dinners to make. I still had dishes to do and children to take to lessons and work meetings, and, and, and. I was mad. Where was back up when I needed it?

"So I guess you're going to focus on excellence in February?" Lanie said to the effect. And also reminded me in my sickness I was not being very excellent; my jaw dropped. Remember, I was mad at the world and I just wanted to sleep. But I did pause to consider the impact of her words.

What is excellence? I sat with her words for a long time, at first feeling like I had somehow failed. Was excellence supposed to look like I felt fine when I felt awful? Was it moving through the day in pretense of health when I felt cold flashes, hot flashes and achy? Was it a happy demeanor that covered disappointment?

Today, I finally feel mostly recovered, with only some lingering stuffiness. I got up this morning, made coffee, his lunch, took the dog out, stripped the bed, remade it with fresh sheets, started my first load of laundry, consulted my planner, worked on the weekly menu and grocery list, dusted and swept my bedroom, cleaned my bathroom, and finally got around to putting up some hooks I've had sitting out for months. I am changed into my running clothes ready to run once the sun rises. And I feel energized and motivated. Doing your best when you're healthy really isn't so hard, especially if you get the right mindset.

But last week, when I was sick? I went to Aldi, Wegmans, TJs, and BJS. I went to two piano sessions. I commuted a child to two work meetings and a tutoring session. I fed and walked the dog as needed. I cleaned up my own dishes and the dishes in the sink that no one else seemed to see. I made dinners. I homeschooled. I did laundry and folded blankets and fluffed pillows. I took a child to a doctor and called a doctor and still had a future focus on things I need to do because the world wouldn't stop. Doing your best when you're sick is hard (imperfect, a moody battle), and yet, I did all the things that needed to be done, made all the much harder because I was sick and tired and cranky and cold/hot.

And for the record, that is also excellence. I did what I could do (although my heart was battling so many thoughts about the lack of helping hands) with what I had (limited energy and stamina). Thanking God it wasn't the flu or worse--because none of those things would have gotten done. Thanking God to be lacing up my shoes and returning to my run.

A word

For some time now, I've chosen a focus word for each year. This year, without a doubt, a word stood out, and I embraced it.

My earliest role models in life were my parents, and they taught me a lot about what they valued. For my mother, it was stuff and spotlight. For my father, it was money and spotlight. Their values had ripple effects--fashioning in me a guilt relationship with stuff and money, and an avoidance of spotlight (remember: invisibility and anonymity were my superpowers). Sadly, for many years, it also left me with a deficit for valuing things and people.

Since my father died, and I became clear on what he did and didn't value, it has caused me to clearly consider and define what I value in my life, and to uphold those things.

We invest in what we value.

For where our treasure is, our heart will be also.

We are what we repeatedly do.

It matters to me what I leave behind, and what I leave behind will speak of what I valued. 

This year, I joined my championing of values with my pursuit of goals. A January focus and example: I value excellence. (Excellence is a reward unto itself.) How do I bring excellence to the areas of life where I serve: my family, my home, my homeschool, my classroom, my friends, my church, my community? I look for ways to add value, not for a purpose to gain approval, but for the very sake of adding value through excellence. 

I value honesty, family, friends, time, education, diligence, discipline, excellence, boundaries, creativity, integrity, freedom, bravery, strength, humility, health, reliability, character, God's Word, truth, grace, peace.

This is just a start. What do you value? How do you uphold and champion what you value in your life?

Value: the worth of something; relative worth, utility, or importance; the relative duration of a musical note; relative lightness or darkness of a color; to consider or rate highly. Synonyms: appreciate, treasure, worth, prize, cherish.