What kind of parent do I want to be?

I hate that I haven't written anything in so long.  Sadly, whenever I have the time, I find I just don't have much to say.  Who wants to read about my lack of motivation?  My frustrations with a toddler?  My riveting evenings watching tv?  Or, better yet, my ridiculous addiction to Candy Crush Saga?  I'd likely put myself to sleep just writing about it.  But, as much as I love to write, I find it's a heck of a lot easier when I have something to say... something I'm interested in or passionate about.  Or maybe something that's got me thinking.  And this week's social media craziness has really got me thinking...

Between the madness of the VMAs and blogger moms dueling over proper parenting, I find myself questioning my standards.  Which side of the fence do I fall on?  What do I stand for and where do I draw the line?  Unfortunately, I still haven't sorted it out, but maybe getting my thoughts down in writing will help...

So, the VMAs... I doubt there's anyone that missed it.  Whether you watched it live or clicked on one of the million available links to the craziness that is Miley Cyrus, I'm guessing 99% of you have seen it.  If not, here's her complete performance (if that's what we're calling it).

2013 MTV Video Music Awards

Is it weird?  Yes.  Do I get it?  No.  Will this performance cause the downfall of our society?  Highly unlikely.

The truth is, Miley Cyrus is not the role model I would want for my child.  More to the point, I don't know of a single famous person that should be.  I don't understand why we expect famous people to be role models in the first place.  Sure, it would be nice if every person in the public eye had the same moral standards as those of us trying to raise our kids to respect themselves and others and to make good decisions.  But when are we going to learn that 'reality tv' is not reality and that famous people didn't become famous for the sole purpose of raising our children for us?  And who's to say that my moral standards are up to par with those of others?  I'm guessing there are plenty of parents out there that have no interest in me being their child's role model.  But I suppose I get a pass because I'm not making my bad decisions on tv?

Being a blogger myself, I enjoy reading what other people post about... running, parenting, cooking... I like it all.  When friends share links to blogs on social media sites, I have a tendency to read them because I trust the judgment of my friends and have an interest in what they're sharing.  This week two of my friends posted links and, as it turns out, one actually referenced the other.  And not necessarily in a positive light.  I read both and, surprisingly enough, agreed with both of them.  While they made opposing arguments, I found them both incredibly thought provoking.  You should check them out for yourself here...

FYI (if you're a teenage girl)

vs.

It's not a double standard when we start looking past the surface

The first is a model of great parenting.  She talks about monitoring her sons' friends on Facebook based on the kinds of things they post.  For example, girls posting selfies in their bedrooms, scantily clad and attempting to look sexy? They're unfriended immediately.  I read this post and thought "Right on, lady. Way to stay involved in your children's lives."  Now scroll a little further to the comments section.  Holy hell!  But wait... some of these people have a point.  Is there a double-standard here?  Or are we simply being overly sensitive?  How much skin is too much?  Are bathing suit shots okay?  What if they're not 'trying' to look sexy, but happen to look sexy anyway?  Oh geez... it's too much to think about.

The second is also an amazing view on parenting.  If we could really protect our children from everything wrong in this world, I'm pretty sure every parent would do it.  But, like it or not, it's out there.  Our children see it every day.  It's on tv, it's in school, and believe it or not, it's in our neighbors' homes and our own backyards.  All of the craziness in this world is practically knocking on our own front door.  Do we pull the blinds and pretend to not be home?  Or do we invite it in with the hope of teaching our children what not to do?

Scary truth, I don't know the answer.  And, I'm afraid, no else does either.  I often read blogs like these with the hope of keeping myself on the right track when it comes to parenting.  I make mental notes of the things I agree with and completely disregard the things I don't.  I attempt to keep an open mind about things I do not understand.  But all of this feels way over my head and I find myself drowning in parenting advice, suggestions and information.

Thankfully, my son is only three.  While I am very much aware that his teenage years are just around the corner, I need to spend my time focusing on the innocent boy that does not yet recognize differences in skin color and has no concept of sexual preference.  I need to cling to this age where the most intriguing videos on the internet are animated children's songs, the definition of accessorizing is choosing between Captain America's shield and Superman's cape, and the most beautiful girl in the world is still his mommy. 

I have to trust that, as time goes by, I will find a way to work through my insecurities about making the right parenting decisions.  That I will be able to figure out how much information is too much and what kinds of things I must shield my child from seeing.  That I will grow into the kind of parent I want to be (whatever that might mean) and that, when the time comes, I will know exactly how I feel about these kinds of situations. 

For now, all I can take from these bloggers is this: every parent/child/family/situation is different.  Each person's history/religion/morals are different and, therefore, lead to different parenting decisions.  None of us are exactly the same, and we will never parent in exactly the same way.  Neither is wrong... simply different.  While it's great to look to others for advice, we still must make the hard decisions ourselves.  We must decide what is right for our children and still find a way to respect the opinions of others.  Perfect parents don't exist.  The best we can hope for is to not screw them up too badly along the way :)

It's been a while...

I've been meaning to post for some time now, but with the craziness that has been my life lately, I wasn't even sure what to write.  So much has happened in the two months since my last post, and yet I find myself right back here where I started.

We've made it through another successful season of Girls on the Run.  I spent my second season with the team as an assistant coach and loved every minute of it!  Our girls were crazy, fun, smart, silly and all-around awesome!  And I'm happy to say that I plan to be back for more in the fall. 

There are so many things I could say about this past season, but rather than recapping ten weeks with a lot of words, I figure a picture will say it best...


Team Avon Lake - Spring 2013

Life at home has finally returned to normal after a chaotic month of trying to figure out where our future would lead us.  With the possibility of moving out of state, we struggled with the idea of leaving behind family and friends, all the while thinking about what a fun adventure it would be.  Alas, the decision has been made and, while we're disappointed that our 'adventure' was not to be, we're also not sad to be staying in the place where we've built a life we really enjoy.  I guess we'll have to come up with a different adventure to focus on.

Which got me to thinking about this post from a year ago.  The changes to my 'bucket list' are few and I think it's time to refocus on it.

Run a marathon

Get more involved with a charity

Learn kickboxing

Write a book

Run my own business

Travel to Europe

Skydive

Start a vegetable garden

Get out of debt

Take a cooking class

Take dance lessons

 

With my involvement with Girls on the Run, I can officially cross off my desire to get more involved with a charity.  I plan to stay as involved as possible for the foreseeable future.

 

Write a book?  Definitely not crossed off yet, but I've started working on it, so I suppose that's better than nothing.

 

Skydive?  Not yet accomplished, but there's a game plan... and it's definitely going to happen.

 

Get out of debt?  Getting there :)

 

As for the rest, this is as good a time as any to get started...

Another proud moment... for my husband!

So, a little over a week ago my husband took his final exam and turned in his final presentation... he officially completed his masters program!  And for the last week we've been waiting impatiently to find out his final grades. 

On Monday night, the results were finally in.  An A- in his final class, which also meant straight As for the entire program. 

12 classes

~

18 months of reading, studying and writing

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78 weeks of hard work and dedication

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Countless hours of personal time relinquished

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1 MBA

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1 very proud wife

To my husband, my best friend, my hero: You did it!!!  Words can not express how proud I am of you and your accomplishment.  You've dreamt of this since before we met and, as much as I've hated giving up so much of our time together, I'm glad to have been a part of this journey for you.  You rock!

Love, your wife :)

A Proud Moment

I can't help myself.  I'm insanely proud of it, so I can't be ashamed for wanting to share it, right?

On March 1st I was featured on Garmin's blog for my involvement with Girls on the Run! 

When I received the email from Girls on the Run International telling me I'd been selected as February's SoleMate of the Month, I was incredibly flattered.  They provided my information to Garmin, a national sponsor of the Girls on the Run SoleMates charity running program, who posted my story (and picture... yikes) on their blog. 

And here it is: Garmin Blog

Pretty cool, right?  I certainly thought so :)

I love...

I love Girls on the Run!  I've said it before and I'll say it again... it's an amazing program!  And this year I've made the leap from Running Buddy to Assistant Coach.  And I'm seriously loving every minute!

Being a coach required going to a coach's training class.  It means preparing ahead of time for lessons.  It means showing up early and staying a few minutes late.  It requires the purchase of healthy snacks for each practice.  And year end gifts.  And often times, money out of our own pockets.  It means leading the lessons.  And showing up for every meeting with a Girls on the Run attitude.  It requires time and energy and a boat load of patience.  And dealing with pre-teen girls.  All without making a dime.  It's a voluntary position... and one I would do every day of the week.

After just one practice, I already love these girls.  They're fun and energetic and insanely silly.  They're smart and friendly and open to new ideas.  I don't remember being that cool when I was that age.  But, then again, that's sort of the point, isn't it?  At that age, we were all cooler than we ever gave ourselves credit for.  We were more awesome than we realized.  Maybe nobody told us.  Maybe we were too busy focusing on our insecurities to hear the people that did.  I was probably 30 years old before I realized I was cool.  As coaches, it's our job to make sure these girls know it well before that.  They should know it now.  And I look forward to spending the next ten weeks making sure they do :)

Disconnecting in an overly-connected world...

Technology is a wonderful thing... until it takes over.

I'm reminded on a fairly regular basis that, these days, people are so attached to social networks, television and cell phones that they're beginning to lose their personal connection with everything around them.  I always think "how sad that someone could be so addicted to TV that they don't spend time with their family, so connected on Facebook and Twitter that they're unable to perform a single action during their day without letting their 'friends' know what they're up to, and so in need of a constant connection to the outside world that they can't even part with their cell phone during dinner." 

And then I remember... I'm one of those people.

Heaven help me if I haven't read every single post in my Facebook news feed.  And there are just some shows I can't possibly miss.  I pretend it's not so bad... it's not as if I stay home on a Wednesday night because I don't want to miss my favorite show... that's what a DVR is for!  And think of all the time I save by fast forwarding through the commercials!

Don't get me wrong, there's no harm in watching TV, keeping up with friends and relatives online or being connected to the outside world.  The problem is when Facebook feels like a lifeline.  When the fate of television characters starts to feel as important as the real people in our lives.  When the misplacement of a cell phone causes panic to set in, as if it's the worst possible thing that could ever happen.

Of course, I can't just deactivate my Facebook account... too many relatives rely on me to post pictures of my son and keep them apprised of the goings on in his life.  It's not for me, it's for them.  And as far as TV is concerned, who doesn't deserve a little down time... a little break from reality... a chance to lose yourself in the lives of nonexistent people? 

Still, I find myself wondering... what would life be like if I could just disconnect for a while.  Would I be more productive?  Would I be bored enough to workout on a regular basis?  Would it allow me to take more time to reconnect with the people I call friends?  Sadly, I'm not sure I have the willpower to find out... the very idea of disconnecting makes me nervous... I break out in a cold sweat... now that I think of it, where is my cell phone?  Maybe I should make sure I haven't missed a call.

As I finish this post, my cell vibrates to alert me of a new text received and I drop everything I'm doing as if this will be an earth-shattering matter that I must attend to immediately.  An 'I love you' text from my husband.  Sweet?  Absolutely.  Earth-shattering?  Debatable.  I may not be up for the challenge... but I'm certainly a prime example of someone who should give it a shot. 

The acknowledgment of a problem is a step in the right direction... right?

You can't call it writer's block...

Writer's block would suggest an inability to come up with an idea, a character, a plot... a lack of inspiration.  These are all things I have.  My characters are intriguing, the story line interesting.  I have imagined the smallest details of a New York City apartment, the meager belongings of a man on the run and the quiet surroundings of a cabin in the woods.  I know the physical features of the characters... it's as if I'd known them my entire life... we'd be friends if they actually existed.  Instead, they nag at me from inside my head, wanting me to share their story... or at least try.

What I have is writer's fear... apprehension... anxiety... trepidation.  Of course, I'm not even sure you can call it "writer's" anything when I'm not actually a writer.  I've never written before, have absolutely no education on the subject and have only made the smallest of efforts to put my thoughts to paper.  Within hours of putting something down, the file is deleted, the dream stashed away for another day.  And somehow I still think of myself as a writer. 

I don't know where it came from... it just snuck up on me one day.  The smallest seed planted deep in the back of my brain, watered sparingly and offered little light.  Then suddenly there was an uncontrollable desire to be something I'd never been... my little seed has become an overgrown weed... not entirely unpleasant, but quickly taking over every thought in my head.  And now it's as if I'm cheating myself in some way by not trying.  Is it a fear of failure?  An inability to commit to the work it would require?  It's hard to say.  But either way, it's anything but writer's block.

Falling in love with something new

I hurt.  A lot.  But it's a good hurt.  The kind you get when you try something new physically and it kicks your ass.  The sign of a good workout.  The stretching of body parts you were sure would never be flexible again.  The use of muscles you weren't even sure you had.  The reminder that you aren't as young as you once were.  It's the kind of pain that comes from one's first yoga class.  It hurts.  And I love it.

Monday night was my first yoga class... thank you, Mel, for suggesting it; thanks, Jenn and Aaron, for forwarding the groupon that made it insanely inexpensive; and thank you, fine yoga instructor, for convincing us that our bodies were capable of strange positions that I'm still not sure are completely natural.  Running a marathon proved I had abilities I didn't know I had.  Yoga forced me back to the reality that there are still a few things my body is currently incapable of.

It was a good reminder.  It's time to dust off those muscles I'd forgotten about and take advantage of 80 minutes of totally calming me time.  It's time to learn something new.  And it's time to make that transition from downward dog to cobra pose my bitch.