1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 - That's it!

It’s 1:30 in the morning. I have been sitting in what I refer to as my Happy Place for hours. It is amazing how time flies when I am writing – doing what I love to do. Do you have something you simply love to do? If you don’t, why don’t you? Really – why don’t you?

Being a mom means your time is not yours. You give of yourself to everyone else all day long. Am I right again? Am I two for two? How many things have you done for other people today? Perhaps it’s impossible to measure since there have been so many. Now don’t get me wrong – I’m all for doing for the other. But with one critical exception: not to the total exclusion of oneself.

What have you done for yourself today? Can you think of anything? Are you racking your brain to come with one thing? Oh, I hope you’re not. Because that’s not good. You’ll burn out. You’ll become grumpy. And probably angry. The holidays are rapidly approaching. Halloween costumes and classroom parties, Thanksgiving turkeys as the families gather, and then comes Christmas in all its exhaustive glory.

So…have you come up with anything yet? A bubble bath at the very least? An hour, half hour, OK - 10 minutes - to yourself to read a chapter of your favorite book? A shopping trip without the kiddies? A good old-fashioned date with your husband? Remember those?

We moms will soon be so busy thinking of a million details. Let’s stop now to take a moment to breathe, to prioritize our lives just a little bit more than we do. What’s working? What’s not? Because if it’s not working now you’ll hate it come December. Do something today to make your life simpler and happier. Take some time for yourself every single day. Begin with 10 minutes. You can find 10 minutes. You can. Quit mentally arguing – yes, you can! Then add another minute every day.

Pretend you are your best friend. Your best friend calls you every day. She has a problem, and you drop everything for her for 10 minutes because she means so much to you. She needs you so much. You know you’d do it for her, or for your child, or for your spouse. Do it for you. You are not seriously thinking that you are not worth 10 minutes a day, are you? You better not be!

Have some fun. Find some peace. Give it a try. What do you have to lose?

~ Maureen :)

The Great Gift

I have been given a great gift.

When I was little my parents owned a lumberyard, a fringe benefit being that when something was built around my house it was built to last. Case in point: my Little House. Built 60 years ago for older siblings, I inherited this child’s hideaway after its occupants had outgrown it. I adored my little retreat. All those years ago I sought quiet and solitude just as I do today.

Every spring I cleaned my Little House from floor to rafters. I re-painted as needed and decorated to my heart’s content. Little baby doll bed, table and chairs, knickknacks – all mine. My family moved from 311 East Archwood Avenue when I was 14. The Little House accompanied our family, but my dreams were no longer centered in it, taking a backseat to high school, college, teaching, marriage and children.

With the birth of each child I longed for that Little House: the embodiment of my childhood. Circumstances were never quite right, years turned to decades, and the elements battered my Little House in my parents’ backyard. But I never gave up on it, never stopped wanting it.

This morning my 21-year-old son came home from school. After chit-chatting a bit he says, “Hey, Mom, you want to see something I picked up for you yesterday?” Working in construction himself I thought perhaps he’d retrieved a treasure someone had discarded. We walk out onto our porch and he doesn’t say a word, just points to the trailer. And there it is – my Little House! The roof is next to it on the trailer, the house sits a teeny bit lopsided, the paint is peeling, and some of the floorboards have rotted. The rusty numbers, 311½, remain securely nailed as the address. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!

And you know what? I can’t stop crying. Big, blubbery tears. The more I think of the gift, the harder I cry. I may be 50 years old, but my heart’s still 5. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

I have such plans: scraping, painting, enlisting my son’s help for the more major aspects. I look at my Little House snugly sitting inside the trailer; I look at my real grown-up house needing so much work itself. In fact, I came home this morning with great visions of making a dent in merely the messes, but here I sit gazing at my Little House. A monarch butterfly landed on a dandelion next to the trailer. Bees are buzzing which I hadn’t noticed earlier. I’m hearing all kinds of critter sounds that I hadn’t heard before. The sun is warm, the breeze is light, and my heart is full to overflowing.

Soon I shall strip the wooden walls of the curling paint flakes, but already my heart feels stripped of some of life’s anxieties. This colossal gift of love has kicked out built-up negativity. As I paint my Little House I’ll also paint my own interior sunnier, happier. I’ll paint my world pretty once more, from my Little House to my real home, to my heart and mind and soul.

I have been given a great gift.

~ Maureen :)