Wake Forest Magazine and Catching Up

Thank you for the prayers!

The weekend retreat was AMAZING, and having a little break from Puppy-dom was pretty great, too.

I wrote about my thoughts on Mother's Day for Wake Forest Magazine today. Tim and I met at Wake Forest, so it was so neat to be invited to write for them. I hope you'll head over there and read the article. Mother's Day can be a day of complicated feelings for many, and I want to honor wherever YOU are in this week leading up to Mother's Day.

On Thursday, I'll be speaking at St. John's Episcopal Church in Roanoke, VA on Embracing the Mystery of God in Difficult Times. It's a free event from 6:30-8:30 and I'd love to have you there!


p.s. Any great podcasts I should listen to during the drive? I've already listened to Serial.

Lessons from my Mother

I only had 18 years to learn from my mother, and I worried when we lost her so suddenly one May day, that maybe her mothering of me might not "stick." These life lessons were not ever spoken aloud; they were "caught" not "taught." In many ways I am more closed than she was, more insular, more grasping and fearful. Yet in the 26 years since her death, I know that we are more alike than we are different, and that I'm still learning from her.

1. People matter. Whether you are talking to the bus driver, the garbage man, the head pastor, or an eight year old child, show that you are interested in them as people, not because of their status or what they can do for you. My mom was a cheerleader. Homecoming queen. She married an oral surgeon and lived in a big house. She could have been exclusive, a Queen Bee, but she wasn't.  She was down to earth, consistent, and genuine.

2. You are enough on your own, and there's enough of you to go around. Even though I'm sure she had the usual doubts and insecurities, my mother operated with a level of security in herself that snuffed out drama before it had the chance to flame up. She cultivated her own interests. She had no thirst or time for soul-sucking friendships or possessiveness.

3. Operate out of abundance, not lack. Widening a circle and opening up our house (to her teenage kids' friends, the 80 year old former babysitter who decided she needed a break from her husband, the exchange student stuck in an unhealthy living situation) did not mean there was LESS for our family, but MORE.

4. Laugh. Be silly. Let your high school boy and his friends try to eat spaghetti through their noses and play tunes with their farts. Break into song now and then. Play Pictionary with a table full of teenagers. Let your kids make big messes and medium-sized mistakes.

5. Small gestures mean a lot. Whether she was dropping off armfuls of pussy willow branches at a friend's house ("Hi! I have some nice pussies for you!" Oh dear Lord, kill my 13 year old self right now, please)-- writing notes to our friends when they were away at college, or making a tiny flower arrangement in a teacup for my bedside table-- Mom knew that it's the little things, not the grand gestures, that make people feel loved.

6. Who needs a purse when you have a bra? Keys? Metro tickets? No telling what she would pull out of her generous bosom. I'm not as well endowed  she was, but my bra still serves as a  good storage area in a pinch.

7. You will love your kids equally, but they don't have to be the same. When I vied desperately to secure the most favored daughter status by trying to put down my sister, my mother would have none of it, "Quit trying so hard. Nothing you can do will make me love you more, and nothing your sister does can make me love her less." She got a kick out of our individual personalities, strengths and weaknesses, and did not compare us or play us against each other.

8. Life doesn't have to be BIG to be meaningful. She never held a high-powered job. She never went on a single exotic vacation, traveled the world, or met famous people, but she is still remembered all of these years later for how she made people feel.

9. Take the high road, but also be real. She could have pulled us in many times with bitterness, gossip and negativity, but she didn't. She was judicious with her words. But even in her restraint, she didn't act fake. She was known for speaking hard truths in church meetings, calling out bullshit, and cutting to the chase.

10. Be a friendly mom, but be a MOM not a friend. Don't try to be cool by buying your kids alcohol or hosting keg parties at your house. Just be present, accessible, and ready to listen. Being flexible, safe, and non-judgmental, NOT COOL, is why teenagers wanted to be around her.

11. Your friends don't have to look like you or act exactly like you.  Sure, it was mortifying when my mom would drop a line like, "Well Sheila, my lesbian friend, got a new job." Ugh. So embarrassing, Mom, you know you can leave off the lesbian part, right? But she wanted us to know she had friends from all races, religions, sexual orientations, and political persuasions.

12. Putting people down does not build you up. Ever.

13. Trust God. When you put your trust in God, you are not led to catastrophize when your kids aren't behaving the way you want them to. Each report card, curse word, and ugly sneer doesn't lead you down the path of picturing your children in Juvie or beyond. There is freedom in trusting God with our kids.

14. Don't try to be perfect. She was known for her great taste in clothes and her decorating sense, but our house was often chaotic with papers and pets and sports equipment everywhere. She eventually learned how to just pull our bedroom doors shut and have a good exterminator on call. Acting perfect doesn't do anyone any favors.

15. The most important things in life aren't things. Mom loved beautiful things, but when they broke, we never got the idea that she cared more about them than about us. Instead of screaming at us when the STERLING SILVER teaspoons started to disappear out of the china cabinet, she challenged us to go on a treasure hunt in the sandbox and offered us and our friends a dollar for each one that we found. Stainless steel only got a quarter.

16. Wear comfortable shoes. Her long, gorgeous legs looked stunning in heels. But high heels can make you cranky after a while, so why not have a pair of comfy shoes on hand? p.s. Nothing beats a cozy pair of knee socks in winter.  

17. Teenage girls are a wreck. Let the sputum and venom roll off of you. Don't engage, don't pout about it, and don't let them define you. One day they will grow up and realize how smart you were.

18. You don't have to be good at everything as an adult, so why feel like you must as a kid? My mother was a self-professed Spanish and typing drop-out. Her spelling wasn't so hot either. There were so many things she was good at, but it wasn't EVERYTHING, and that gave us permission to be mediocre (or worse) at a lot things too.

19. Life is scary, but try anyway. Starting her own small business, taking us to NYC on the train and figuring out how to get tickets to a Broadway show, convincing a bank executive to give her a credit card in her own name, may seem like small things to us now, but they were scary at the time. Mom got scared. She faced challenges. Her life in her 40's most likely didn't look like she'd pictured it in her 20's, but she didn't give up.

Everyone Has a Story: Listen To Your Mother Ticket Giveaway

I just bought my ticket for Listen to Your Mother's DC show on May 4.

If you are not familiar with the LTYM movement, it is a spoken-word show started by Ann Imig that will be in 32 cities this year in the days surrounding Mother's Day. 

Writers around the country audition to read short pieces related to some aspect of motherhood. Twelve to fifteen are selected to take part in each city's show. On show day, performances range from hilarious to gripping to poignant, just like motherhood. You will love the honesty and vulnerability of the performances.

I was honored to be part of LTYM DC just seven months after we lost Jack. This year there will be a show in Baltimore as well. If you love to hear women's stories, the LTYM experience is for you!

To see if there is a LTYM show near you this spring, check out the website.

I'd really love to see you at the DC show at 2pm on May 4 in Crystal City, and today I'm giving away a set of two tickets! Wouldn't that be a wonderful way to spend a spring afternoon with a friend, your mother, your Mother-in-law, and...me????

Just enter the giveaway using the entry form below and I'll announce the winner of the tickets on Friday.
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/81fd631/" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway


To give you a taste of what to expect, here is a video of my reading at LTYM in 2012. Note: I think most of the performers will actually make eye contact with the audience. :)

Mother's Day

You know how painful it is for me to be around boys these days, when every cute little guy in our town seems to be getting a spring haircut, wearing a baseball uniform, or walking through the town green?

Well, there's that.
And at church on Mother's Day, when I was trying to sing and not cry, Tim whispered, "How come every family in here seems to have a little boy climbing all over the dad?" So it's hard for him, too.

After a short mental health nap, I worked on painting the kitchen then got ready for Margaret's big outing that night. And, in an unplanned stroke of genius, it turned out to be THE place to go if you are trying to avoid seeing any preteen or teenage boys-- a Taylor Swift concert!

We, along with 13,998 other screaming moms and daughters (and a few intrepid dads) had an awesome time singing along to Taylor's hits, enjoying Ed Sheeran's opening act, and counting Taylor's costume changes (13?). It was a very positive Mother's Day activity.

Here's a funny story about when we gave Margaret the concert tickets last Christmas. We did our traditional poem scavenger hunt that took her all over the house to find her last "big" present. When she found it, it was just a large Fed-Ex envelope, and her face fell. As I filmed her, she looked up, at me: "An envelope? An envelope? You guys didn't name a star after me, did you?"

No Honey, but we do love you to the moon and back!

Monday Catch-Up

My sister says she checks my blog compulsively, hoping for an update. I don't want to assume that others do that too, as if I'm some sort of famous person, but I do feel bad when I let days and days go by without filling you in. Does it make you worry and wonder?

If I leave you on a sad note, do you worry that I am down for the count, under the covers until the next blog post appears? If I leave on an "up" note-- do I ever do that?--- do you think, "Wow, Anna's doing great?"

The reality is that during the course of a day, or even an hour, I am up; I am down; I am all over the place. Each day holds its blessings, and its pain.

Last week we had the UP of Margaret doing an AMAZING job as Lucy in "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe" at school. You've known for years that this girl had dramatic flair, and being in her first play channeled that spunkiness beautifully:

When the narrator talked about "Lucy the Valiant" at the end, I thought. "Margaret, valiant, yes." Not willingly, for sure, but valiant all the same.

She has really, really wanted to play Lucy, ever since Jack played Lucy's brother Edmund the last time the school put on the play. We would practice his lines around the kitchen table. I was the White Witch, and Margaret was Lucy.

The play program this year said, "In Loving Memory of Jack Donaldson. With Aslan."

Wow. Beautiful. I know.

So, it was sweet to see Margaret get to use her gift of acting to entertain. And it was bitter without Jack there to cheer her on, or to critique her every move. Sweet/Bitter. Bittersweet.

Same with her class's Medieval Feast on Friday. She was an archer and did a lovely job. In the back of our minds, however, was Jack, our little dictator, The Lord of the Manor .

And Mother's Day?

There was the bitter of not having this little group together:

Mother's Day 2011 photos. That is a DART in my dress. A DART. Thank you. Seriously, if anyone enjoys Photoshop and would be willing to de-nipplify/dartify these pics for me, I would be GRATEFUL!

And the sweet this year of this hug after Margaret's soccer game:

A tough day, indeed, made much more bearable by cards, love gifts, flowers, texts and emails from friends loving on us. Thank you. By the new blue ribbons festooning fences in town. Thank you. By the prayers sent up by moms gratefully holding their kids close and wishing I could hold both of mine. Thank you.

And today, the school is attending a Shakespeare Festival. One year ago Jack played MacBeth.

This year his name and his favorite Bible verse (Luke 1:37) adorn the progams and the back of the kids' t-shirts.

Ouch. Bitter/Sweet.

So today's post is really just to let you know I'm here.

I'm up.

I'm down.

And I'm glad you are with me.

Labor Day on Mother's Day

So I was thinking of things the kids have given me over the years, and my thoughts naturally gravitated toward hemorrhoids. And wandered from there to being in labor and pushing hard and, well, a little story.

Twelve years ago I gave birth to Jake, with Tom and my sister by my side. After 3 botched and 1 successful (thank you, God!) epidurals, I had a healthy baby and an important question for my sister's ears only.

"Uh, did I poop during labor?"

She hesitated. Not a good sign.

"Well, you did, but it was just about the size of a Chihuahua."

I threw my head back on the pillow in abject humiliation. All I could picture was the Taco Bell dog. Barely able to peer over my engorged melon-sized breasts, I held my hands about 12 inches apart and part whispered, part hissed..."Dear Lord! Are you saying I pooped the size of a Chihuahua? That's bigger than the baby!"

My sister laughed at my labor-addled brain and said,

"No! NOOOOOO! You pooped a tiny bit, about what a chihuahua would do!"

Oh.

Thank you Jesus.

And thank you, kids, for EVERYTHING you've given me these past 12 years.

Except the hemorrhoids.

Not Sexy in the Suburbs

I had a fantastic Mother’s Day. Hubby understands that I do not have to be his mother for him to extend himself for me on Mother’s Day. This is quite the coup considering he is the same guy who uttered, “But we don’t DO Valentine’s Day.” Three home-cooked gourmet meals, a novel (and the whole afternoon to read it), plus “date coupons” from Tom and the kids set the tone for a great day. Did I mention the chocolate?

I did crack up that morning when I pulled Parade Magazine out of the Sunday paper. Emblazoned on the cover was a picture of Sarah Jessica Parker and the words: “America’s Most Fabulous Mom.” Joking, I said to the kids, “Wooohoo! The world finally knows how great I am! They even put me on the cover of this magazine.” Molly took one peek and said, “That doesn’t look like you, Mommy. That looks like Holden’s mom.” “Yeah,” said Jake, “Definitely Holden’s mom.” Molly considered it a moment longer, and pointing at SJP’s distinctive mole said, “Well she does have that thing on her face. It’s kinda like Mom’s zits.” Aaaah. Motherhood.