Strocel.com | Navel Gazing

Remembering Why

Amber on February 7, 2012 6 Comments

Sometimes in our relationships it’s easy to get caught up in the who did what and the oh woe is me and the gah, stuff all over the floor. This is true whether you’re talking about your partner, your mother, your good friend or your kids. Life is messy. Relationships are messy. If you’re not careful, they can devolve into finger-pointing and raised voices and hiding in the bathroom. But hiding in the bathroom never really works. They always find you.

In the middle of the crunchy, creaky, cranky day-to-day, I lose sight of myself. I forget. But then those moments come that remind me. Little flashes of truth and memory flit across my consciousness, until I almost can’t remember how very wronged I am. I watch my babies sleeping, or share an inside joke, or see that look in someone’s eye that lets me know they remember and care. These little moments are what see me through, and stop my words in throat before they come spilling out of my mouth into a big puddle of anger and blame.

Those moments make me swallow it all. It doesn’t taste good, but it makes me feel better. It’s kind of like taking medicine, I think. Sometimes you just have to choke it down.

Looking around my family room right now, I see the ghosts of my days moving around in front of me. Water paints, dropped on the floor. Dirt on the carpet beside the back door. Flip flops, flung from little girl feet. A hard hat, worn by a very serious three-year-old “builder man”. It’s easy to feel annoyed, as I survey the remnants left behind. But when I remember the moments, I see exuberance and joy and play and life. Messy, messy, imperfect, beautiful life. There is just so much of it in this place that it explodes across the whole house, leaving debris in its wake. Reminders of the fullness that can wear me down, and build me right back up again.

Sometimes, when we can’t take it anymore, my husband and I get down on the floor and clean together, sorting Potato Head bits and puzzle pieces and dress-up clothes. Sometimes we both become frustrated until we’re shooting each other looks, wordless accusations flung across the room: look what your children did. But then a joke is made, the floor is clean, and we both remember why. Why we chose each other, why we love these kids, why our life is beautiful even in its messiness.

Maybe one day, I will find order in the chaos. Maybe one day, my children will learn to put all of their stuff away and I will become better about enforcing tidy-up times. Maybe one day the mess won’t grate on me like it does now. Until then, I do my best to remember the why behind the crunchy, creaky, cranky day-to-day. It’s always right there, waiting to remind me.

Tagged With: Marriage, Navel Gazing, Parenting

Using my Car Less: One Green Thing

Amber on February 6, 2012 3 Comments

Last month, I told you that I’ve decided to take one small step each month to become more green during 2012. It feels manageable, and tangible, and hopeful. I started by looking at PVC.

I had some reasonable success with reducing the amount of PVC in my home. I bought a new yoga mat, cleaned out the old (and frankly kind of yucky) bath toys, got new PVC-free lunchboxes for my kids, and started going through my kids’ toys. Did I clear out all the PVC? No. I didn’t throw out every single toy that may contain PVC, and I am not about to take steps to replace my PVC piping with something else. But I did make some tangible changes, and I plan to make more as I work my way through the PVC items in my house. Up next? I need to buy some PVC-free binders.

This month, I’m tackling something with a more clear-cut impact on my personal carbon footprint. Donating my old yoga mat and buying a new one might reduce the number of toxins I’m exposed to, but it does require the use of new materials to manufacture something. When I clear out the PVC, I’m not exactly taking steps to fight climate change. For February I’m changing that by putting my driving habits under the magnifying glass. I want to reduce the number of trips I take in my car this month.

I have my own car, which I purchased new in 2000 after graduating from university. It’s a Honda Civic, and at 11.5 years old it’s clocked less than 95,000 kilometers, or 60,000 miles. In recent years, as a work-at-home mom, I drive it even less. My car currently clocks about 5000 kilometers, or 3100 miles, each year. Most of my trips are short – driving Jacob to or from daycare, running errands, going grocery shopping or heading to the farmers’ market. Sometimes I’m not even entirely sure I need my own car, given how little I drive. But since my husband takes his car to work every day, having a car of my own really is a huge convenience thing for me. I’m not going grocery shopping via public transit with two kids in tow when I have an easy alternative, you know?

Given how little I drive, trying to reduce the number of kilometers I travel in a month feels like a tall order. Instead, I decided to target the number of trips I take. To give myself a baseline, I kept track of every trip I took in my car in January, and the grand total was 36, or 1.16 per day. I’d like to get that number down to less than one trip a day, on average. A 20% reduction would take me to 0.93 trips per day, or 27 trips during the month of February.

Steps to Reduce my Car Trips

I plan to reduce the number of car trips I take in three ways:

Combine trips whenever possible. Instead of heading to the bank on one trip, and to the store on another trip, I’d like to plan it so that a single outing takes me to two, three or even four places. This should mean less driving, as I won’t be heading home and back out between each errand.
Run less errands. Do I really need to check my mailbox twice a week? Probably not – I bet once would suffice. Can I make do without rice for 48 hours, until my next planned grocery shopping day? I bet I can. If I can cut back on the number of stops I’m making, I’ll spend less time driving.
Get out and walk. I already walk Hannah to school and home each day, but I bet there are more outings that I could complete on foot. For instance, that mailbox I don’t need to visit so much? It’s within walking distance. I have three days a week when both kids are in school, and heading out for a walk would probably be good for me, and I’d reduce my carbon footprint in the process.

Really, the best way to reduce my carbon footprint would be to get rid of my car altogether. Maybe using it less will be a step on the path to becoming a one-car family, as I become less dependent on motorized transportation. Or maybe it will just reduce my overall carbon footprint. Either way, it feels like a worthwhile goal.

Do you take any steps to limit the amount of driving you do? I’d love to hear your tips, if you have any!

Tagged With: Enviro-Mama, Navel Gazing

What I Learned in January 2012

Amber on February 1, 2012 6 Comments

Monthly reviews are my favourite tradition. Here’s how it works – every month I come up with some things I learned, and not always the easy way. Then, I ask you all to join in with some recent revelations of your own. And we all learn and grow and what-not. Or at least share a laugh at our own expense, because some of these lessons are both hard-fought and funny. Sound good?

So, without further ado, here are some things that I learned in January.

January Monthly Review

1. I found out just what it takes to spur me to join a political party after listening to Natural Resources Minister Joe Oliver on CBC Radio. I was so incensed with his comments and his characterization of environmental groups that I came home and purchased a three year membership in the Green Party. He lost me when he said that it’s okay for foreign oil companies to exert influence in Canada, but it’s not okay for foreign environmental groups to participate in the review process. I disagree. Go ahead, Mr. Oliver, call me a radical.

2. I learned that while I have a lot of tea, I can’t hold a candle to many hardcore collectors.

My 3-year-old photgraphs me beside some tea

3. I placed – and received – my very first order from a seed catalogue, and I felt a huge gardening thrill. In addition to the old standbys, this year I’ll be trying to grow quinoa and amaranth.

4. I played hockey for the first time, and learned that stick-handling is not my forte, but I can hold my own on skates.

5. I did my first-ever multi-interviewee podcast, and had a blast. Everyone was fabulous, but I got a special thrill calling up Allison on the phone.

6. I learned that after two-and-a-bit weeks of Christmas break, a bored six-year-old will be begging to go back to school.

7. I found my mission in life … at least for right now. It’s to help other moms live happier, more fulfilled lives.

8. I had my first-ever facial courtesy of a free coupon, and it was heavenly. I highly recommend it.

9. I spent a whole bunch of money on a fully-packed yoga bag at a fundraiser the Lunapads ladies threw to raise money for Shanti Uganda, mostly because the mat was PVC-free and I was on a mission to rid my home of PVC this month. In retrospect, I could have gotten a PVC-free mat much more cheaply, but I wouldn’t have had the satisfaction of supporting a good cause, so there’s that.

10. I watched my three-year-old son Jacob blossom as a performer. I’ve been serenaded during dinner almost every evening for the past few weeks, which is lovely. But word to the wise: don’t interrupt him unless you enjoy extreme sadness.

What did you learn in January? Please share! And read some of these fabulous monthly review posts to see what other people learned in January, or add your own:

Tagged With: Enviro-Mama, Monthly Review, Navel Gazing

Hockey Mom: A Different Take

Amber on January 30, 2012 6 Comments

The hockey mom is a Canadian icon. She gets up early so that her kid can be at the rink for a pre-dawn practice. Her mini-van has logged countless kilometers on trips to small towns far and near for games. Her trusty thermos is always at the ready, filled with hot coffee and maybe a little splash of something extra to help see her through. And she is nothing like Sarah Palin.

I have been a soccer mom, but so far I have not been a hockey mom. My daughter Hannah prefers figure skates to hockey skates, and at three years old my son Jacob can more or less hold his own on the ice, but his sport of choice is basketball. Plus, he’s too little for 5:00am practices. Thank heavens.

Recently, however, my friend Suzanne got in touch with me and asked if I wanted to take part in some hockey sessions for moms. Suzanne is a hockey mom, but like me she’d never worn hockey skates before. While hockey is Canada’s national winter sport, when I was growing up girls just didn’t play. It wasn’t so much that we were excluded, as it just never came up. Plus I’ve lived my whole life in rainy Vancouver, so it’s not like there were neighbourhood pick-up games on the local pond. I decided that it would be fun to try, though, so I signed on. Call me a hockey mom … with two kids at home who weren’t invited.

Suzanne arranged two training sessions with Phil, a local hockey coach. When I arrived at the rink on Saturday night, I found myself in a room with 11 other ladies, all of varying abilities. Some of us were total beginners, some had decades of experience, and some had played a little here and there. I had one of Jon’s old jerseys (he played from the time he was five until he graduated from high school) and a whole lot of nerves. The other ladies helped me put my borrowed gear on, and when I was all dressed I have to say that I certainly looked the part.

How was it? A lot of fun, actually. For my first time on hockey skates, I think I did pretty well. I’d always heard they were easier to skate in than figure skates, and having worn both I’d say that’s true. I got the hang of stopping reasonably quickly, and that was good. But once I had to control a puck, I found out that hockey is harder than it looks. I did manage to shoot it into an empty net on my third try, though, and I only fell twice all evening. All in all, I’d call it a success. By the time it was over I felt sweaty, exhilarated, and pretty freaking proud of myself.

All of us hockey moms are having another practice session with Phil, and I’m excited to see how that goes. I’m not sure I’ll be joining a team – hockey gear is expensive – but now that I’ve finally had a chance to play around with hockey, I can definitely see the appeal. It made me think that instead of shuffling my kids from activity to activity, I should get out and play more myself. Who said that children are the only ones who get to have any fun?

PS – Every month I do a monthly review of things I learned. Some are serious, some are funny, and all are hard-won. I will be running my January review on Wednesday, February 1. I’d love it if you played along. Write a post on or before February 1 and come back here to include it in my link-up!

Tagged With: Navel Gazing, Sports

Me and My Skin

Amber on January 25, 2012 13 Comments

I have always had a tenuous relationship with my skin, at best. I am naturally blond and pale, which means that I sunburn easily. I can spend two weeks in Hawaii, and when I get back people ask me if I hid in my hotel room. To my constant chagrin as a teenager I just don’t tan – or at least not enough that someone who can’t see me naked would notice. (When I’m naked, my tan lines show, and there is some visible contrast.) On top of that, I’ve been prone to break-outs since I was about 10 years old. I remember getting my first pimple. I was in grade four. No one else in my class knew what they were. I was such a trailblazer.

I expected that my skin would clear up when I left my teens behind. It didn’t. I used all sorts of products, which promised all sorts of results, and nothing really worked. I visited a dermatologist one time when I was about 20 because I had a mole that I was concerned about, and she prescribed me something for my face. It worked reasonably well, but then I moved and I didn’t refill the prescription. Plus, Jon complained that it made my face smell bad. In retrospect, it was an antibacterial cream and I’m pretty sure that it contained triclosan, so I’m glad I stopped using it.

When I was pregnant with Hannah, my skin was at its hormonal worst. I never would have posted this photo without running it through Photoshop first. In fact, it’s seven years later and even today I don’t really want to post this photo, but I’m doing it. This was me:

Pregnant with Hannah, Dealing with a Breakout

More than five years ago I started washing my face with honey. It was the first thing that really helped to clear up my skin. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But I think its relative gentleness, coupled with its natural antibacterial and exfoliating properties, helped to calm my skin down. This is when I discovered that the answer wasn’t to beat my skin into submission, it was to treat it with respect. Piling chemicals on it only dried it out and irritated it more, exacerbating the break-outs. Honey was my first answer.

This fall I went gluten-free in an extremely round-about and backward manner. One of the things that sold me on giving up wheat was the fact that I saw a noticeable improvement in my skin. Once again, it wasn’t what you would call an instant miracle cure, but just one more thing that seemed to help. It was also a relatively convincing sign that giving up gluten made a difference. I could be imagining that my digestion is better, and the fact that eating wheat now makes me feel pretty bad could all be in my head. But my skin? If believing that I’d found the answer was enough to stop the breakouts, my first bottle of anti-acne face wash would have done the trick back in 1987.

A week and a half ago another piece fell into place, skin-wise. I had a coupon for a free facial, and after evaluating my skin the esthetician decided to apply a hydrating mask. This was exactly the opposite of what I expected, given my skin’s tendency to oiliness. She believed that applying moisturizer could curtail that, since my skin wouldn’t be working overtime to counteract any dryness. After the facial my skin felt really good, and it looked really good, too. I decided that maybe she had a point about the moisturizer, and I decided to take a page from every other hippie mama and try coconut oil. I’m only a week and a bit in, but I’m quite happy with the results. One more pillar in my skin-care regimen, one more step forward for my face.

My skin today

Is my skin perfect? No. It’s still sensitive, and prone to redness. It can be more than a little blotchy, too, which just comes with the territory when you’re as light-skinned as I am. If I treat it badly, it will show it. But I’m finally making my peace with it, and learning to treat it gently. I’ll never have perfect skin, but I can accept my skin for what it is, and make the most of it, putting my best face forward.

What’s your skin like? How has your relationship with it evolved? And what does your skin-care regimen look like? I’d love to hear!

Tagged With: Enviro-Mama, Navel Gazing

The Other Half of the Story

Amber on January 24, 2012 2 Comments

My son Jacob is nearing the halfway point of his fourth year, which is really just a fancy way of saying that he’s almost three and a half. At this age, he’s making big leaps in terms of expressing himself. His words are getting clearer, his sentences are getting longer and the ideas he’s sharing are more complex. Six months ago he rendered verdicts like, “No like it da fwoot!” Today he’s more likely to say, “Mama, mama-mama-mama-mama, I don’t like it, mama. Because, because, because this fruit is not good. Can I have an apple. Please, mama? I like apples.”

One of the side effects of Jacob’s burgeoning language skills is that I hear a lot of stories. The stories come from all sorts of places – things that happened at school, events that transpired in the other room while I was cleaning the kitchen, things he saw on TV, stuff his father said to him and even dreams he had. He’s like a little reporter, constantly filling me in on the who, what, where and when. He’s a little weak on the why and how, but he’s working on it. He tells me which friend took all the little cars and didn’t share, and which teacher he reported the infraction to. He tells me that he went on an adventure, and that he’s being a dinosaur right now. For the longest time he couldn’t get a word in edgewise past his big sister, but more and more this kid is holding his own.

There’s a thing about stories from almost-three-and-a-half-year-olds, though: they always leave you hanging. You hear about the friend who snatched the cars, and you hear that he told a teacher, but you never hear what happened next. You can go ahead and ask what happened next, but somehow the answer is never quite clear. You may go so far as to provide possible outcomes, like, “Did the teacher help you work it out?” Then your child will nod, and you know full well he would have nodded if you’d asked, “Did the teacher feed your friend to a tiger to serve as a cautionary tale against anyone who would consider snatching a toy in the future?”

Jacob dreams of the day he’s big enough to take off on his own

Because Jacob is not so good at finishing his stories, I go through my life with all these little unfinished thoughts from my son. He compiles lists of wrongdoings, reports of missing toys, and plot synopses from the Backyardigans. He gives you just enough to make you want more, and then stops cold, and no amount of prodding will reveal the actual outcome. You’re always left wondering exactly how it all worked out, as he stares blankly back. Blink. Blink blink blink. Can I have a cookie?

It’s interesting to gain this view of your child’s inner life. This half-completed story from the little person you spend so much time with. It reminds me that while I am still a very big part of Jacob’s life, with every passing day he’s claiming more and more of his story for himself. I only hear half of it, wondering what exactly he meant, and how it all worked out. Just where did he go on his adventure? Did he like it? Did he think of me? And how many times has he been the toy-snatcher, but not told me?

Because I have an older child, I know that Jacob isn’t going anywhere yet. He’s not even three and a half years old, for crying out loud. I also know that he will get better and better at finishing his stories. One day I will have more details than I could possibly want. Instead of wondering what happened next, I’ll be wondering what he’s telling other people about me when I’m not around, if he’s sharing this tidbit about his friend’s mom with me. So for now I’m enjoying the half stories. And I’m wondering if his teacher really did feed the toy-snatcher to a tiger.

Tagged With: Navel Gazing, Parenting

My Mission in Life

Amber on January 19, 2012 9 Comments

It’s Thursday, so I’m Crafting my Life! If you’d like to craft your life, too, and find a greater sense of purpose, subscribe to my mail list. You’ll be eligible for advance discount registration for the Crafting my Life Online Class, which is happening NOW. Spend 12 weeks doing something for yourself!

Does Everyone Have a Calling?

Last June I gave a talk, examining whether or not everyone has a calling – or mission – in life. At the time, I said this:

I’m feeling some pressure now to figure out what my calling is. But the truth is that if I have a calling, I’m not sure I’ve found it yet.

I also said this:

Whether you feel that you have a specific task to fulfill in this life or not, and no matter your personal beliefs, by pursuing justice, love and compassion, both for yourself and the world at large, you can find purpose and meaning. And out of that sense of purpose you may just find your passion – and dare I say it? – your calling. Maybe not all at once in a blinding flash of insight, but gradually, and without even noticing.

And this:

As I go look back on what I’ve done and where I’ve been, a pattern of strengths and weaknesses, passions and life lessons, relationships and opportunities, starts to emerge. It doesn’t necessarily provide that blinding flash of insight, but it can show me purpose and meaning that I didn’t know was there as I lived it.

Uncovering my Mission

This weekend, I had a moment of realization about what my mission in life really is. I do lots of things that I enjoy, but I’ve always separated them in my mind. Crafting my Life, with its online class an playbook, is in one slot. VancouverMom.ca, where I’m connecting local moms to their city and the great things it contains, is in another slot. Strocel.com, where I share my musings and build community, is in another still. There are slots for my volunteer work, my book dream, and the time I spend doing nothing in particular.

When I take all of those separate things out of their slots and line them up, though, a pattern starts to emerge. And what I see is that I have a strong desire to help other moms live happier, more fulfilled lives. That’s what I’m pretty much always doing. More than that, it’s what resonates with me most deeply. It’s my soul work. Whether I make money at it or not, whether anyone else knows what I’m doing or not, I feel like if I can make just one mom’s life a little bit easier because I was there at the right moment, I’ve fulfilled my mission.

I spent years searching for my mission in life, and not finding it. I suspect that I was looking in the wrong place all along. I was waiting for a big, blinding flash of insight, that would cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. I thought it would be something entirely new, that I just somehow hadn’t considered before, but that suddenly seemed so perfectly right. But maybe that’s not how it works at all.

Start with What You Know … and be Ready to Adapt

Maybe, when you’re searching for your mission in life, you need to start with what you know. Consider all the things you do, and why you do them. Think about the dreams you have – the ones that make you tingle a little – and then ask yourself why you feel that way about them. What is the underlying motivation that you already have? What can that tell you about what you’re meant to do? I think there are more answers there than in sitting around, waiting for inspiration to hit like a bolt from the blue.

For 2012 I chose the word clarity. My recent epiphany about my mission has gotten me off to a great start. I feel like I have a better understanding of what I need to do, and how I need to do it. When projects come my way, I can consider how they fit into my mission, and make better decisions. Of course, not everything that I do will involve making mom’s lives happier and more fulfilled. Sometimes you just have to scrub a toilet. But I feel like knowing what my mission is helps me live with greater clarity.

I’m not sure if my mission will always be the same. Maybe not. Maybe that’s another misconception about missions. We don’t all have just one that lasts forever. The challenge, therefore, isn’t to figure out that single thing you were meant to do in life. It’s to uncover what’s driving you, and what resonates with you, right now. Then set about doing it. When you’re finished, then you can move on to the next thing, and the one after that, knowing you fulfilled your mission.

I wonder what you think. Do you think that everyone has a mission in life, whether they know it or not? Do you feel like you know what your mission is? And do you think that someone’s mission can change as they change? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Tagged With: Crafting my Life, Navel Gazing

Cuppa Joe? No Thanks

Amber on January 16, 2012 13 Comments

I have this thing for candy canes. I know they’re not exactly good for me, since they’re full of artificial colours and flavours and sugar. I didn’t always like them, though. It wasn’t until I was 14 or 15 years old that I willed myself into liking them. I decided that it would be cool to be the sort of girl who ate candy canes, so I kept on eating them until I acquired the taste.

I’ve done the same thing many times. I didn’t always like cola, but around the same age I decided I should change that and after having a few cans of Coke, I did. I rarely drink it now (I probably average 3.5 cans per year), but there are times when it’s just what I want. I also gradually acquired a taste for wine, and strong cheese, and spicy food. I enjoy lots of things today that my eight-year-old self never would have consumed. This is why I try not to freak out if my kids are a little picky – I know they’ll probably outgrow it, just like I did.

There is, however, one taste that I have simply not been able to acquire: coffee. I’ve tried to drink it several times. When I was about 16 I thought it would be cool to drink coffee, but I could never get through a full cup. I remember trying to choke some down at a restaurant with a friend. I kept adding cream and sugar to it, trying to make it taste good, but it never did. Finally my friend said, “Give it to me, I’ll drink it.” She took one sip and promptly spat it out, declaring it more like hot coffee ice cream than actual coffee.

Image credit: Maxime Seguin on Flickr

When I was in university I tried, once again, to like coffee. I participated in an event called the Polar Plunge back in 1995. It was my first year in engineering school, and the other people on my floor in residence raised a bounty on me. The idea was that if I was willing to be thrown into the gross, freezing water of the pond on campus, the money would be donated to charity. I played along, because I’m cool like that. After it was over, and I was dressed again, I tried to drink a cup of coffee to warm up. I couldn’t finish it. It just tasted so much like … coffee.

Eventually, I made my peace with being a non-coffee drinker. I had an epiphany, in fact, when I realized that I didn’t have to teach myself to like it. Furthermore, by not drinking it, I was saving myself from becoming dependent on it. I watched my mom go through coffee withdrawal a couple of times, and it wasn’t pretty. Since I’ve never been a coffee drinker, I don’t need it to get going in the morning, and I don’t have to deal with any pangs if I can’t get it. In many ways, it simplifies my life.

Image credit: DavidD on Flickr

I will admit, though, that there are certain times when I think that maybe I should try to drink coffee once again. Those mornings that come all too soon after a long night with a sick kid. In the Vancouver Airport at 6:00am, waiting to board my plane to San Diego for BlogHer. At Starbucks watching all the other patrons with their fancy coffees topped with whipped cream and caramel swirls and chocolate shavings. I wonder if I couldn’t hack it when I was younger because I didn’t have the stomach I do now. I start to think that maybe I have something to prove. Surely if I put my mind to it, I could make myself like coffee! But then the moment passes, and I get over it.

I’ve acquired many tastes in my lifetime. I may still acquire many more. But I doubt that coffee will be one of them.

Any other non-coffee-drinkers out there? If you drink coffee, what spurred you to start? And what was your first reaction when trying coffee? I’d love to hear!

PS – I may not drink coffee, but I drink a lot of tea, and my tea cupboard shows it! I want to see yours, too. Write a blog post on or before January 18, come here to link-up, and show me your tea stash.

Tagged With: Food, Navel Gazing

Tips for Letting go of Parental Guilt

Amber on January 12, 2012 4 Comments

Guilt: it’s a reality of life for parents. Balancing the task of raising children with caring for your house and nurturing your other relationships and earning money to pay for all those dance classes ranges from “outrageously difficult” to “downright impossible”. Something’s got to give. There’s just no way to do it all perfectly, all the time, and so we don’t. We don’t fall short out of choice, though, so we feel guilty.

I feel guilty about something each and every day. There’s always something I should be doing, or really want to do, but can’t find the time to accomplish. On top of that, as my kids get older they get better at issuing direct complaints on the substandard nature of my parenting. If I forget someone’s hat when I drop them off at school, or prepare something they don’t enjoy for dinner, you can bet I’m hearing all about it. Their little eyes get wide and they look at me and say, “Why mama, why? Why did you do this thing?” Hannah has even gone so far as to draw pictures illustrating my various shortcomings.

The idea that we’re not spending enough time with our kids a hot-button issue in our culture. Mothers, especially, are not supposed to spend any time on ourselves when we could be spending time with our kids. If we work inside the home, we’re ignoring our kids to sit at the computer. If we work outside the home, we get a whole heaping plate full of guilt about that. If we don’t do any kind of paid work, that comes with its own societal judgments, too. There’s no winning at this game.

In spite of the fact that we’re getting constant messages about how we’re failing as parents, we’re actually far more engaged with our kids than any time in recent history. One American study showed, for instance, that mothers with a college education spent an average of 12 hours a week caring for their children in 1995, and an average of 21.2 hours a week in 2007. That’s more than one extra hour every day. The problem is that our expectations have also changed, so no matter how much time we spend with our kids we still feel as if we’re falling short.

In spite of its prevalence, parental guilt doesn’t help anyone. It just leads to anxiety and stress, and anyone can tell you that an anxious parent isn’t much fun to be around. Letting go of the guilt isn’t that easy, though. The desire to raise our children well is programmed into us, and so we’re constantly monitoring our own performance. Even given our predisposition to guilt, I think there are some ways that we can reduce the stress and anxiety.

Amber’s Guilt Reduction Tips

Do something fun with your kids. It doesn’t have to take much time. Even 15 minutes can help you feel re-connected, and restore your sense of calm.
If your kids are old enough, tell them what makes them so fabulous and then ask them what they love about you. Kids can be very effusive, and their expressions of undying love will remind you that you can’t be doing all that bad.
Think back to a typical day when you were a kid. A time when you weren’t going to school, like over summer vacation, is especially good. Remember how many times your parents sent you off to do something that didn’t involve them – then remember how that didn’t scar you for life.
Keep track of all the things you do for other people during one day. Marvel at how very giving you really are.
Read about the benefits of leaving your kids to their own devices.
When your kids start complaining about something that pushes your guilt buttons, remember the times when you were doing something super-fun with your kids and they complained. Like, say, when you went to the waterslides and they decided the water was too splashy. Accept that sometimes kids just complain. It doesn’t mean we’re bad parents.

When you can let go of some of your guilt, it frees up a whole lot of mental space. It may even free up some space in your schedule, because you’re spending less time scrambling to do it all. That space will help you to restore your sense of equilibrium, and give you the room you need to live a life that actually works for you – instead of a life that just makes you feel guilty.

What do you think? Is parental guilt inevitable? How do you reduce your own guilt level? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Tagged With: Crafting my Life, Navel Gazing, Parenting

Who Has the Biggest Tea Stash?

Amber on January 11, 2012 19 Comments

A little over a year ago I shared my tea collection with you. At the time, there were 17 different kinds of tea in my cupboard. After going through them all, I tossed several very old, very stale boxes. I didn’t toss them all, though. That would be wasteful. I kept some, and in the intervening 13 or so months I’ve collected a few more boxes here and there. I may or may not be back at 17. In fact, I may or may not have more than 17 kinds of tea right now. I’m not saying. I will, however, submit some evidence to help you reach your own conclusion.

The Evidence

I recently re-organized my kitchen pantry, and set aside a designated tea drawer. Before this, my tea was all up high and out of reach, which meant I was frequently reduced to drinking whatever happened to be within jumping distance. Now that it’s all in one easy-to-reach place, which is great. But when I open the drawer for guests to choose their own tea, they gasp in amazement at the sheer quantity.
I have at least three variations on chamomile in my drawer right now.
I recently fell in love with the new tea shop in my local mall.
I have a photo, which I will label “Exhibit T”:

Does this sight make you gasp?

Show me Your Stash!

I was chatting with some friends on Twitter about our collective penchant for buying tea, and it seems that I am far from alone. I thought it would be fun to see if there are other people out there with a drawer like mine – or maybe even several drawers. I can’t have the biggest collection of tea in the world, there’s no way. So I’m asking you to show me your stash!

Take some time this week to write a blog post about your tea stash, and then come back here on Wednesday, January 18. I’ll be sharing the nitty-gritty details of my own stash in a post that morning, and confirming exactly how many boxes, bags and tins I have. I’ll also include a link-up. Let’s see who takes home the compulsive tea collector crown – or who has the utmost restraint in the tea aisle. To sweeten the pot, I’ll be drawing one name from the folks who play along and sending the lucky person one box of tea, on me. I’m not being sponsored and I’m not acting on behalf of big tea. I just want to share the love.

I’ve created a button, which you can use in your post: