The conversation went something like this…

Me:  My house is such a mess!

Friend:  You’ve been saying that every day since you built the house in 1994…clean it!

Me:  But I don’t want to!  I hate cleaning!

Friend:  So then don’t, but own it.  Accept the fact you’re not going to have a perfectly clean house, quit stressing about it and move on.  It’s not your thing.

Ok, my friend is right.  It’s not my thing and I have been complaining about it since 1994.  So today I’m going to own it, but I feel so alone!  And guilty…and judged…and embarrassed.  First, let me be clear in case my kids are reading this and dying of embarrassment. Our house is not disgusting (well most of the time) and I’m not like an episode of Hoarders, I’m just messy…always have been.  And I hate to clean…always have.  I tell people I was in the bathroom when God gave out the clean gene.  I was running out pulling my pants up yelling, “Wait!  I’m coming!”, but he had already finished. 

I go out of my way to try and catch someone else with a messy house.  I pop in unannounced hoping to find some shoes lying around, maybe a blanket on the floor…nothing.  I purposely go over after dinner wishing there might be some dishes in the sink or an unwiped counter…nothing.  I make excuses to walk by their bedroom just praying for an unmade bed…again nothing.  What is wrong with me?!?  I can hear some of you reading this now.  You’re saying, “Whatever.  Every time I come to your house it looks great.”  And you’re probably right…because I know you’re coming!  It’s the only time I really motivate to clean!  That’s why I entertain a lot, otherwise who knows what it would look like!

Obviously I’m capable of cleaning and I actually do a good job when I do it.  And I LOVE a clean house…makes me seriously so happy.  And the stress I feel when it’s a mess is crippling sometimes.  So why don’t I just clean it?  I don’t know.  I use the excuse I’m busy.  I work full time and most days after work I’m at a game or practice or running errands of some sort.  When I get home at 7:00 or 8:00, cleaning is the last thing I want to do.  But I know it’s an excuse.  I see other working moms as busy as I am AND still have a clean house.   Cleaning is just not a priority for me.  That’s the bottom line.

So here it is for the whole world to see…there’s a good chance my house might be a mess when you pop in.  But our house is a home.  You and your kids are welcome any time.  You don’t have to worry about scratching our hardwood floors, they are already scratched.  You don’t have to worry about spilling something on the carpet…it’s already stained.  I have paint on my jeep and kitchen table from high school paint parties.  I have scuffed up walls where the paint has come off in my kitchen from a wrestling match between a bunch of boys.  My lighting fixture hanging upstairs is broken from soccer balls being kicked back and forth.  I have dents in my garage door from hours of practicing volleyball serves.  My kitchen stool is broken from a friend laughing so hard she fell off it and it broke.  I can’t bring myself to fix it because seeing it still makes me laugh.  My coffee table legs look like half eaten corn on the cob from my “sweet” dog’s chewing problem and there are always cans of drinks all over the house from all the kids coming in and out of the house.  Even with the mess, my kids love to have friends over.  “It’s comfortable” they tell me.  “We don’t have to worry about stuff when we are here.”  And they don’t.  It’s important to my husband and I to have a house everyone feels comfortable coming to.  A house people want to hang out in and they don’t have to worry about breaking something or ruining something…it’s all just stuff and nothing so valuable it can’t be replaced.

But I still struggle.  I’m still extremely jealous of all of you with clean houses.  Even though my husband and kids are more than capable of cleaning (and they do), somewhere deep inside I still feel like it’s “my job” to keep a clean house and it’s a reflection of me when it’s not.  Even though my husband tells me not to worry about it, it’s just who we are, I still worry.  I still get embarrassed, I still feel like a failure.  Although I feel alone in this battle, statistics say I’m far from alone.  Workingmother.com conducted a survey and found that 68% of readers felt significantly or strongly guilty about their not-clean-enough homes.  They felt more guilt over that than spending enough time with their kids.  Why are we so hard on ourselves?  We live in a different time than our mothers did.  Life is busier and busier but our standards and expectations are becoming higher…we feel the pressure to do it all, and do it well.  I can’t keep up so I’m cutting myself some slack.   Come over and have a glass a wine with me, messy house or not.  I promise to have enough wine on hand you won’t even remember the mess!!

Have you ever gotten a wake-up call?  I got one the other morning…literally and figuratively. 

I was awoken by a phone call at 6:00 a.m. to let me know there was the possibility one of my children was in danger.  Wow.  Not what I was expecting.  Fortunately, it was a false alarm and it seems there was never any threat to the safety of my child, but for the several frightening hours we were unsure, one thing became crystal clear.  All the little things I had been complaining about…my dirty house, the loads of laundry, the lack of “me” time, my job, the crappy weather, the 10 lbs I can’t seem to lose…meant nothing to me.  The only thing that mattered was the safety and well being of the people I love.  This was a wake-up call.

I believe scary/sad/poignant events happen in life in order to jolt us back into reality of what’s really important.  These “wake up calls” immediately put things into perspective for us and shift our focus away from the insignificant and material things and directly on to what matters the most…people.  I value my relationships tremendously, and if you are in my life at all, you know this.  The older I get, the more this becomes true, but sometimes I just forget.  I get overwhelmed with life and start sweating the small stuff.  I lose my way a bit.  I start taking things for granted.  It takes these wake-up calls to get me back on track. 

It is human nature to take people for granted.  To expect they will always be in our life.  To think the way things are today will be the way they are forever.  We get comfortable, yet we don’t seem to notice how comfortable we’ve become with someone until we’ve lost them.  We get so used to having certain people around because they are so reliable, we don’t pay attention to how much they do for us and how much they care for us.  We think people just automatically know how we feel and therefore we don’t need to tell them.  Sadly, there are many times we treat the ones we love the most, the worst.  I am as guilty as anyone.  I don’t speak of my gratitude enough.  I don’t say enough I love yous.  I expect the people I love to be in my life forever.  Anything different, is unthinkable.

Things in our house have felt a little different since that wake-up call.  We all seem to be a little more patient with each other, a little kinder.  We seem to be staying in the same room a little longer, hugging a little tighter, and checking in a little more often.  I saw that protective mama bear come out in all of us that morning.  There was nothing we wouldn’t do to protect each other.  However, I wish it didn’t take a wake-up call to remind us what we mean to each other, to remember not to take each other for granted.  Wake-up calls are scary and sad.  So, maybe this can be your innocent, not-so-scary, not-so-sad wake-up call.  If you had one day to live, who would you call?  Who would you want to spend your last day with?  Go tell them.  Say I love you.  Make time for someone you’ve been too busy for.  Say the unspoken.  Hold on a little tighter.  Love a little deeper.  You never know what day might be your last together.

Today is a bittersweet day for me.  My son got in the car and drove to school…all by himself.  The feelings were the same as the day he went off to kindergarten.  Wondering when in the world my little boy got so big.  Taking pictures he didn’t want me to take.  Waving to him with tear-filled eyes long after I could no longer see his car.  Planning how I could secretly follow him to school at a safe distance to make sure he got there ok.  Knowing I had to let go and let him navigate this milestone all by himself, but not wanting to.  

Don’t get me wrong, Brandon is a good driver.  I’ve been so proud of the way he’s handled himself in the car the past nine months.  I’m very excited for him.  I remember the first time I got behind the wheel all by myself.  I was cheering for a high school basketball game.  My mom let me take the car to pick up my best friend and drive to the high school.  Even though we were in a 1976ish station wagon the size of a small boat, Pam and I thought this was the coolest thing ever.  A door to a new kind of freedom opened up on that first drive and life was never the same.  Today is that day for him.

I have to admit though, I’m worried.  The statistics are sobering when it comes to teenage driving.  I hate to be Debbie Downer on such a special day in his life, but here are just a few I came across, from http://www.dosomething.org/tipsandtools/11-facts-about-teen-driving#

1. 33 percent of deaths among 13 to 19-year-olds in 2010 occurred in motor vehicle crashes.
2. 16-year-olds have higher crash rates than drivers of any other age and in their first year of driving, 1 in 5 16-year old drivers has an accident.
3. 56 percent of teens said they talk on the phone while driving and talking on the phone can double the likelihood of an accident.
4. Statistics show that 16 and 17-year-old driver death rates increase with each additional passenger and crash risk for teens increase incrementally with each mile per hour over the speed limit.
5. Only 44 percent of teens said they would definitely speak up if someone were driving in a way that scared them.
6. More than 40 percent of teen auto deaths occur between the hours of 9 p.m. and 6 a.m.

So Brandon, if you are reading this, here’s what I want to tell you. My concern for you as a new driver is not because I don’t think you’re a good driver, I do.  It’s because I’ve been there.  I’ve been in high school and I know what goes on.  I’ve seen serious car accidents and have been in them myself.  I’ve seen the drinking and driving and the car loads of kids with the music so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think.  I’ve ridden with friends who terrified me with their driving and I never said a word.  And I didn’t even have to deal with cell phones and texting.  Something that has become such an ingrained part of our life, it’s hard for even adults to stop doing it.  I’ve witnessed the speeding and goofing off and know what can happen even if YOU are doing everything right.  But mostly, my concern is because I’m your mom.  Because I love you.  You and Catie are the most precious things in my life.  Because I don’t ever want to live a day without you in it.  It’s hard for me to watch you grow up but I know I must.  I get a little sad, but also very proud, each time I cross something off my list of things you no longer need me for.  I’m going to miss the one-on-one time I have with you when I’m driving you places, as that seem to be the only time we really get to talk, but I know there are new adventures ahead for us and new memories to be made.

So enjoy this right of passage, but as you navigate through tough choices as a new driver, always remember I’m here for you.   Your dad and I will pick you up anytime, anywhere, no questions asked.  You are lucky to have an abundance of amazing aunts and uncles who are much cooler than I am and can keep a secret as well.  Use them.  Most importantly, have fun.  This is the start of some of the best days of your life.  And I hope no matter where you are, you’ll hear my voice whispering those three important words…use your blinker!!

Raise your hand if you over-think things.  Raise your hand if you wish there was a switch in which you could turn your thoughts on and off.  Raise your hand if you over-think your over-thinking.  If you didn’t raise your hand, go directly to the comment section and share your strategies!!  Seriously!  I want to hear them.

If you’re still reading, it means you’re like me, relentlessly trying to find a way to silence the constant chatter in my head.  Sometimes it’s important chatter, things that are serious to me or have me upset or worried.  In those times, I over-think the most, over-analyze, rehash, try to put the pieces together to make things make sense, even obsess.  My over-thinking tends to create problems that weren’t even there to begin with. 

Most of the time it’s a mental list of all the things I need to do, errands I need to run,  projects I thought would be finished by now, commitments I made to other people, carpool plans, kids’ schedules, work deadlines, and things I forgot to do. 

And sometimes it’s just plain ridiculous.  It goes something like this.  I sit down to “meditate” for a minute (because I hear that’s really good for this).  A bee buzzes by…I wonder if bees really die when they sting you…I remember a time Brandon got stung by a bee and how painful it was…Ouch, I’ve got a pain in my foot right now… reach down to rub the pain and notice my shoes… I hate these shoes, why did I wear them… I seriously need to clean out the shoes in my closet…wait, I still have that shirt I borrowed from Allison in my closet that I never returned…Allison, crap, I was supposed to call her back an hour ago…I bet she was calling about picking Catie up from school…Damn, I was supposed to make Catie a dentist appointment…actually, I need to make myself a doctor appointment…well first I need to shave my legs…I wonder if everyone shaves their legs before they go to the doctor of if that’s just weird…I’ll have to ask the next time I go to happy hour…oooh, I could really go for a happy hour…actually I could really go for a whole night out…well definitely not in these shoes! 

“SHUT UP!”  is what I want to say to myself!!!  Quit thinking!!!

So how DO we quiet the mind?  I’m still trying to figure that out, but yoga is one thing helping me.  The first time our instructor told us to quiet our mind, I seriously had no idea what I was supposed to do!  I spent the whole time overanalyzing what exactly I was supposed to be thinking about if I wasn’t supposed to be thinking!  How can you not think about anything?  Again Paige, SHUT UP!!  So that’s what I did.  I started focusing on the quiet music he was playing or the sound of my breath.  I became present in THAT moment, whatever that might be.  I realized the more I tried to “force” thoughts out of my mind, the less luck I had.   So if I thought came in, I’d just tell myself not now, and do my best to focus on the silence.  It gets a little easier each week, but it is still extremely hard for me.  I’m not used to silence.  I have a huge imagination and a curious mind.  I have a passion for details and although it’s been construed as being nosy at times, it’s not.  I’m sincerely interested in the small details of someone’s life.  All of those qualities come in handy for my job, but in my personal life it’s exhausting.

So, I’ve been telling myself to HUSH UP (seems nicer) when I start to think too much and I just STOP.  May not last as long as I would like it to, but it does work.  How do you silence your mind?  What strategies help you stop over thinking and obsessing?  I would love to hear your thoughts!  And if you don’t comment, I’ll just over think why no one responded and you’ll make my problem worse!  Of course I’m kidding!  Well, kind of. (Insert winky face!)

I'm a planner.  Not so much with my friends, but when it comes to me, my family, and my job, I like to plan.  I also like to see my
plans.  I haven't even brought myself to put my calendar in my phone because I like to see the whole month laid out, color coordinated by person.  I love excel spreadsheets, to-do lists and even the occasional sticker chart for myself to see how my plans are going.  But herein lies my problem…the follow through.

A typical day for me looks something like this…

PLAN to wake up 30 minutes early so I can get 20 minutes in on the treadmill and not be rushed getting us all out the door. 
REALITY…Hit snooze three times, wake up 30 minutes late, and rush out of the house in a tizzy, frustrated with everyone.

PLAN to eat a nutritional breakfast at home before I leave. 
REALITY…(see #1) go through Chick-Fil-A

PLAN to have a positive attitude and lots of patience for the kiddos. 
REALITY…my breakfast duty does me in.

PLAN to pack healthy snacks for the day. 
REALITY…(see #1) parent brings cupcakes for Johnny’s birthday and cafeteria makes too many cinnamon rolls so I eat them as to avoid hurting anyone’s feeling for refusing(ok, so that’s not really why I ate them!)

PLAN to check 5 things off on my work To-Do list. 
REALITY…a parent calls, two kids get in an argument, we have a fire drill, Jane is sad because Susie has a new best friend, so I add something to my To-Do list I’ve already done so I can enjoy that wonderful feeling of marking through it with my red sharpie!

PLAN to bring a healthy lunch. 
REALITY…(see #1) eat steak and gravy and a roll from the cafeteria.

PLAN to drink four bottles of water at work. 
REALITY…get a caffeine headache and grab a Diet Dr. Pepper from the drink machine.

PLAN to go to the gym after work. 
REALITY…friend calls for happy hour.  Tell her I have to work out.  Haha, just kidding.  Go to happy hour.

PLAN to walk the dog when I get home. 
REALITY…too cold.

PLAN to use one of the 100 crockpot recipes I’ve pinned on Pinterest for dinner.  REALITY…(see #1) forgot.

PLAN to do 1-2 loads of laundry every night to keep up. 
REALITY…too tired.

PLAN to wash my face with the 43 different products I have bought to ease the aging process. 
REALITY…who cares.

PLAN to get 7-8 hours of sleep so I can get up 30 minutes earlier! 
REALITY…lay in bed feeling like a big, fat loser because all my planning resulted in a bunch of nothing.  So, I’m still awake at midnight planning how I can eat less, exercise more, be more productive at work, keep up with the house better, drink more water, spend more time with the dog, look younger, and get my beauty sleep.  

Shew.   The truth is, if I put half the time into DOING as I do PLANNING, I’d accomplish
more in a day than I do in a week!  Planning is necessary, but achieving is what makes each of us feel proud and why we even plan in the first place. Sometimes you just have to stop thinking and start acting!  That's hard for me.  I'm a thinker.  Actually, an overthinker.  I believe my need to plan probably goes hand in hand with my worrying (see Don't Worry...Be Happy post).  Planning make me feel like I have some control and, in all honesty, it's much less scary to plan than it is to actually do.  But I'm ready to change that. So that’s my plan on this April 1…less talk and more action!  What do you need to stop planning for and just start doing? What’s holding you back?

I’ve been seeing a lot of students lately who can’t seem to stop worrying.  Just in the last week, I’ve seen a student, who between throwing up and crying, was worried about her Writing SOL.  A student from a military family was worried if they were relocated to a station oversees, they wouldn’t be able to bring their pets.  A brother and sister came to see me, worried their fighting parents might get divorced.  Another was worried about a sick grandparent, and yet another worried that mom wouldn’t be there to meet him when he got off the school bus.  Together, we write down the worry and put it in “The Worry Box” in my office, where I keep the worry safe with me until the time comes we need to pull it out again.  Most of the time, that time never comes.

Ok, so here’s the thing…I’m a life-long worrier currently trying to recover.  I can remember worrying as a child.  I especially worried about something happening to my parents, but I worried about other stuff too.  I have wasted countless hours worrying.  Hours I will never get back.  I defended my worrying by feeling like I had a good reason to be worried.  That somehow, all of this worrying would protect me.  It would make me better prepared to handle the situation I was worried about, or even avoid it all together.  I believed if I worried long enough or hard enough, I could change the outcome.  In some weird way, worrying was working for me.

What was not working, was the constant stress, anxiety, and sleepless nights my worrying was creating.  The toll it was taking on me and even on my loved ones.  A couple things happened that began to change my outlook on worrying.  One day a friend mentioned hearing a sermon about worrying being one of our greatest sins.  Worrying was a sin?  I’m not an overly religious person, so to be honest, I had never thought of it like that.  I believe God has a plan for each of us, so to worry is to say you don’t have faith in God’s plan.  I was interested enough that I looked up verses in the Bible that talked about worrying.  A few of my favorites…

Matthew 6:34  Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.  Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Luke 12:25  And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?

Philippians 4:6-7  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

It was like God was saying to me, “Take a break Paige, I got this.”  And as Max Lucado said, “No one can pray and worry at the same time.”

Secondly, I realized worrying was solving absolutely nothing for me.  The worrying was not stopping the bad stuff from happening, nor did it make me any more prepared for it.  I found that if I had solvable worries, I generally took action.  But as a chronic worrier, most of my worries were unsolvable.  I started asking myself…

Is this a real problem or an imaginary “what if”?  If it’s a “what-if”, how likely is it to happen?  Is there anything I can do about my worry or is it completely out of my control?  It started to put my worries into perspective.  I also set aside a “worry time”.  I allowed myself to worry all I wanted while I was in the shower in the mornings (I do my best thinking/worrying in the shower!)  I made a mental list of all the things I was worried about.  On my way home from work, I reviewed the list and decided if it was still something I needed to be worried about.  I was always surprised how small the list was on my way home.  I tried to force myself not to worry any other time of the day, only during my scheduled “worry time”.  This way, I was only wasting about 15-20 minutes a day, not hours.

I’m not going to say I’m a recovered worrier, I’m not.  I still worry about my son driving on his own in a few weeks and about how much my own daughter worries.  I worry about the health and safety of the people I love and the kids I work with.  I worry about the future of our country and if I’ll be around to see my kids reach all the milestones in their life.  I worry about my mom as she gets older and other family members who are going through tough times.  I even still worry about the small stuff…my dog outside on cold days, having to put on a bathing suit in a couple of months, what people think of this blog.  But I’ve decided to put it all in my worry box and pull it out only when I need to.  Chances are, I’ll never need to…