In Defense of Cheerleading

A few weeks ago, my 7-year-old was watching a show on the Disney Channel. Not a show I love, but it's one of the few "tween" shows I can tolerate. But this episode caught my attention and has stuck in my craw (whatever that is) since then. Long story short, a girl on the show joined the cheerleading squad and was ultimately forced to choose between her new friends (the pretty, popular, brainless, snotty, boy-crazy cheerleaders) and her best friend who was unfortunately not cool enough to be a part of the popular group. I'm not even going to tell you how it ended because it's the Disney Channel and you can probably guess.

Around the same time, I read this line in a blog about why your kid should join the marching band (full article here)

While the cheerleaders are making sure their high ponytails are just so, the girls in the band are simply stuffing their hair into their shakos (yes, the dorky hats have a special name) and forgetting about it.

What bothered me about this show, and this blog's statement is what bothers me anytime cheerleaders are portrayed in the popular culture. In short, cheerleaders are easy targets. They are most often depicted as vain, vapid, snobby, stupid, slutty, Mean Girls.

In case you hadn't guessed, I was a cheerleader. I cheered every year from grades 7-12. And let me tell you, cheerleaders are just like the girls in the band, on the basketball team, in student government, in the swing choir, and in the church youth group: whimsical, finicky, funny, hormonal, catty, superficial, sweet, moody, insecure, stubborn, romantic, shallow, educated, confused, ignorant, joyful, tearful, secretive, difficult, gullible, afraid, needy, eager, rebellious, courageous, imperfect, curious, impressionable, womanly, girlish, energetic, dramatic, fretful, helpful, naive, observant, sassy, feminine, clever, and, last but not least, stereotyped.

In addition to the negative stereotypes that permeate our culture, I also had a conversation with a few friends who were doubtful over whether they would ever let their daughters try out for cheerleading, if they so desired. Throughout our conversation they voiced several worries, including stunt men, the short skirts, and the whole gender thing, the idea of girls "cheering" rather than "participating." So...In Defense of Cheerleading, here is this former cheerleader's thoughts. 

Stunt Men

The idea that teenage boys will put their hands on the teenage girls' bottoms was NOT something my friends approved of. We didn't have stunt men in my high school, so I can't really speak to this issue much. What I can say is that I WISHED we would have. If I had tried out in college for cheerleading (I didn't) I would have been sorely disadvantaged because I didn't have experience doing partner stunts. However, my explanation to my friends is that doing any kind of stunt work in cheerleading is always all business. Doing stunts is serious, it's work, and requires strength, precision, and concentration. Plus, it's supervised; any cheer coach that lets hanky panky happen while stunting is not doing his/her job. You're better off worrying about your daughter's boyfriend or the guy she meets at a random party  than her stunt partner.

Short Skirts

I think if you're going to make a fuss about cheerleading skirts then let's make a fuss about leotards worn by gymnasts and swimsuits worn by the swim team. After all, those certainly show more skin.And what about tennis skirts? How come they never catch any flak? Are cheerleading skirts more sexual? Maybe? But even if you could prove somehow that they are that doesn't mean the person wearing one is any more sexual, or sexually active, than someone who is not wearing one. 

In fact, I think you could make the argument that wearing a cheerleading outfit is a pretty tame way for a young woman to make a statement about her femininity and, yes, burgeoning sexuality. And perhaps that last piece right there is what parents struggle with, and understandably so. Girls make these statements in a thousand different ways, through makeup, dress, speech, and so on. I know I did, and I'm not going to lie, there is power in that cheerleading skirt. You have to possess a certain amount of confidence to don a short skirt and jump, tumble, dance, climb, and flip in front of large crowd of people. But whether or not this sexualizes someone is a up for debate, at least in my book.   

I can already hear people saying, "You should have seen the slutty outfits the cheerleaders at my school wore!" So I will say that I think most high schools (by and large) have fairly modest cheerleading uniforms. I know mine were. I'm all for age appropriateness here. I wouldn't like my teenager wearing anything midriff-bearing and, to be honest, there would be a lot of girls who wouldn't be comfortable wearing those anyway. And for the gymnasts who tumble and stunt (which is most) the skirts are safer than say, a snow suit. 

Gender Stuff

I get this objection, I really do. Girls cheering on the sidelines while boys perform for glory and acclaim  smacks of an androcentric worldview that, in my experience anyway, speaks to a different time in history. All I can say is that what cheerleading is (or has become), in general terms, is a performance. Cheerleaders are a part of "the show." And cheerleading, with its blend of athleticism, gymnastics, dance, and high flying stunts, is nothing if not entertaining. No different than the band, the color guard, the choir, the drama club, etc. And cheerleading gave me an opportunity to travel to London to perform in a New Year's Day parade my senior year, and bigger universities even offer scholarships for cheerleading. 

My Experience

I was a gymnast growing up, and happily forsook a lot of sports and other activities early in life because of it. But around junior high I reached a crossroads: my skills had plateaued, my body had developed enough so that I was a little less aerodynamic, and my gym closed down; simultaneously, my interests started shifting more to my social life, friends, boys, clothes, makeup, etc. Cheerleading was a natural segue for way me into teenage life. Just like any other kind of team it helped shape my identity -- it gave me a sense of belonging and a group of girls with which to laugh, argue, hang out, and work towards a common goal. I also had friends (including my best friend) who weren't cheerleaders. This may not be the same at all schools, but I do think in my experience cheerleading gave you some amount of status, but status didn't necessarily give you popularity. Make sense?

The girls I cheered with possessed all the traits that I mentioned above and then some. The girls on my squad were almost all what I would term honor-roll, good kid, student leaders. Did we have a some drama? Yes. Some scandals? Yes. Did we go through all the other stuff teenage girls go through? Absolutely. Were we occasionally Mean Girls? Snobby? Brainless? Loose-Moralled? Yes. But so were a few girls I could mention (but I won't) that sang in the choir, played basketball and volleyball and softball. These things are not exclusive to cheerleading. These little dramas play themselves out all over America, in high schools, on sports teams, in youth groups alike.

When I was being interviewed to get into my Master's Program for a degree in Conflict Resolution the interviewer asked me what experience I had with resolving conflicts. The first thing that popped out of my mouth were my years of being a cheerleader.  Cheerleading requires cooperation, creativity, collaboration, diligence, practice, sacrifice, and a teachable spirit. We had summer practices at 6:00 a.m. so you also had to be an early riser! Admitting (if only to yourself) that someone else can do something better than you (and that's OK), finding your place on the team, developing mastery over something-- these are all things I learned from cheerleading. Is it for everyone? No. But it was great for me and it gave me insights into human nature I'm not sure I could have gotten anywhere else.   

In Conclusion

Sometimes, when it comes up in conversation, I tell people that I was a cheerleader, and they get a certain look in their eye and say, "Oohhh..." I can tell immediately they've gotten an image of me in their head that's probably only partially true. No, I didn't hide in the library (that's where my mother worked!) nor did I lack friends or things to do on the weekend. But I want to stop them right there and let them know I wasn't some snort of snotty Teen Queen. I do sort of wish I could go back and redo some parts of high school. To be more inclusive, to be less concerned with status, to be kind instead of merely nice. We all have moments we aren't proud of. But I never regret being a cheerleader or feel like it somehow hampered my moral/social development. In fact, I'd say that it did the opposite.

Just like so many people have a problem with Christianity because of a Christian they once knew, if your view of cheerleaders is tainted because someone who was a cheerleader once upon a time treated you unkindly, have a "come to Jesus" talk with the teenager you once were and the adult that you now are. And I also wouldn't say there aren't cheerleaders who perpetuate all the negative stereotypes, perhaps even on purpose. But, as an adult, I can see that sometimes we use negative stereotypes as a sort of shield, an armor so no one sees the insecurity, the vulnerability, the eating disorder, the bad home life, the depression, the fear of failure...the list goes on. Re-read the list of above attributes I used to describe teenagers and be honest with yourself. See that cheerleader as the girl she was, just trying to figure out life. Not to get all Paula Deen on you, but if you've never said or done anything you regret, go ahead and pick up that stone. 

So, let's all agree to stop hating on the cheerleaders. Whatever your hangups, stereotypes, or misconceptions. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and prepare to let go...Ready? Ok. 

My First Wrinkle: A Guide for 30-Somethings and Beyond

Remember the days when you could put on sweatpants, an old t-shirt, throw your hair in a messy bun and still look fresh-faced and cute? Alas, for me, those days are long gone. What works for your teen years and throughout your 20's stops working in your 30's. When does it happen? Is there a day when you wake up and the aforementioned sweats and messy bun make you look like you might possibly be homeless rather than a perky co-ed? I don't think we'll ever know the answer to that question. But I have a new problem. I knew the day was coming but I didn't think it would be here so soon: my first wrinkle.

Ok, technically, it's 2 wrinkles. Right between my eyebrows. Here's the thing I wasn't expecting -- they aren't symmetrical. The one by my right eyebrow is a perfectly normal wrinkle, like ")" however my left eyebrow wrinkle is shaped more like ">" only not nearly so nice. So one wrinkle is a parentheses and the other is a greater-than sign. I can totally live with the parentheses (OK, I just checked and the singular of parentheses is parenthesis, who knew?). I guess I just expected them to look the same, and I am not at all pleased with the effect.

I grew up watching those Revlon commercials about not lying your age, but "defying" it. At least that was Melanie Griffith's advice (who is probably not the best role model, but hey! she did end up with Don Johnson AND Antonio Banderas, right?).  So what's a 30-Something to do? I think part of the process involves Elizabeth Kubler Ross's 5 Stages of Grief and Loss. For me this went something like

1. Denial: That's not a wrinkle! It's just dirt! (I had been out weeding when I came inside and noticed it in the bathroom mirror for the first time). Upon scrubbing I proceeded to stage #2.
2. Anger: "I'm only 34! Why me? Why aren't they at least symmetrical? What did I do to deserve this?"
3. Bargaining: Maybe I can buy some really expensive wrinkle cream. Or Botox! The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills treat Botox injections like I treat getting my roots touched up.
4. Depression: This sucks. My life is going by too fast. In my head I'm perennially 23. Reality Bites. Which is a movie most 23 year-olds today have probably never heard of. 
5. Acceptance: You know, it could be worse. I could be like one of those Afghan women who had acid thrown on their faces. They'd probably be thrilled to have my asymmetrical wrinkles. This is the definition of a Third World Problem. The rest of me is still doing OK. A minimum of cellulite (thanks Mom!), relatively normal hip-to-waist ratio (considering I've had 3 kids), and my wardrobe is sparse but somewhat on-trend. 

And here we are. For those of us who have succumbed to the inevitable but still care about their appearance enough to make an effort, I've happened upon an insight that might just change your life. Drum roll please...ACCESSORIES! If, like me, you've never worn a lot of accessories because a) you'd rather allocate your resources to hair, makeup, and wardrobe purchases or b) you find a lot of "extra" stuff cumbersome than this is especially important to listen to. Accessories for the 30-Something is literally the fountain of youth. Accessories (think jewelry, scarves, purses, and head/hair do-dads) have gained serious real estate in my closet. 

It's all about the art of distraction. You might look at your face and see your double chin, but throw on a scarf and, while others might still take subconscious notice of your double chin, their attention will be drawn to your scarf and the totally Pinteresting way you've got it looped. And then it's all "Hey! What a cool scarf? Where did you get it? How did you tie it like that?"

For wrinkles I recommend jewelry. And purses. The more stuff you have going on the better. In fact, my hopes and dreams for Lasik surgery may be put on the back burner. Why? Two words: Hipster Glasses. In fact, I think the Hipsters are onto something with all their tattoos, fedoras, pocket chains, Chucks, and asymmetric shag haircuts. Lots of distraction going on with this group. I guess I'd rather be an aging hipster than just...aging. 

For aging in general I recommend great shoes. And for someone with feet issues this is easier said than done. This is a good place to spend a little extra money. This is all very scientific, of course, but it's common knowledge that if you can rock a pair of trendy shoes you take a visual 7 years off your age. 

When you are truly old you need to go all out. You still need accessories, but add perfume (a good strategy is once you hit 60 to start wearing about 5% more perfume every year until you hit 70, and then level off). You might be old, but thankfully, you don't have to smell like it. And probably most importantly: tech gadgets. The older you get the more you need cooler gadgets. Cameras, phones, tablets, you name it. Your gadgets will keep you young. And perhaps a Twitter account. However, by the time you hit this age you're doing pretty good if you still care whatsoever about how you look. Mostly you're probably just glad you don't have cancer. And who can blame you? 

The point is, my fellow 30-Somethings, the bloom is off the rose. I'm feminist enough to think that I should probably embrace my aging face but I'm girly enough to be all "Heck-To-The-No!" And in case you were wondering, I am not at all opposed to Botox for my wrinkles. I'm just waiting for it to be available at my local pharmacy. 

Bleacher Talk

Two things have been the inspiration for this blog post. 1) The song "Summer Girls" from L.F.O. (more about this in a minute) and 2) It's that time of year. Baseball season. We have two boys playing in their different "leagues" (T-Ball and Rookie Ball) and one dad who is coaching BOTH teams. We are busy to say the least. But, as many parents can attest to, sitting and watching baseball (of all sports) leaves a lot of time for chatting with the people sitting around you.


Back to my first inspiration. The other day I was driving home and the song "Summer Girls" (I always think of it as the "Abercrombie and Fitch song") came on the radio. This song came out in 1999 and became popular due to both its catchy tune and asinine lyrics. Here you go in case you need a refresher.

Anyway, this song and the Abercrombie & Fitch reference always takes me back to my college days. There was a certain group of kids on campus who lived and breathed for Abercrombie & Fitch, and somehow they all seemed to play soccer or date soccer players. Once I went to an indoor soccer game with a girlfriend who needed a "wingman" to go watch a boy she liked who was playing. I sat there on the bleachers with other girlfriends, aspirational girlfriends, and parents totally zoning out because I had never even seen a soccer game and didn't know what was going on, when a certain conversation caught my attention. One of the moms of the players was having a semi-loud conversation with the others sitting around her. She was talking about going shopping and how she found some really nice sweaters at Abercrombie for like $75 and wasn't that a great deal?? And everyone agreed with her. I remember thinking to myself, I do not belong here. I had never felt like such an interloper. To be fair, I think I already felt slightly uncomfortable because this group of kids was just not my crowd. Now, I certainly wasn't raised in poverty, but I think I have owned one article of clothing from Abercrombie in my lifetime, bought for me by a boyfriend. There is no way on Earth I (or my parents) could have spent that amount of money on one sweater. Or think it was a "good deal" if I did.

Which brings me to my point. The  semi-private/semi-communal nature of conversations held by spectators at sporting events. As I sit and watch my boys play and chit chat with the others around me, there is a part of me that is constantly on edge. The memory of that mother who unknowingly made me feel like a second-class citizen is never far from my mind. She didn't mean to be malicious, she wasn't trying to hurt anyone's feelings. She was just kind of unaware of how her comments could be heard and hadn't a clue how it might impact someone else. So here are some reminders for you (and me) as I am now the mom sitting in the bleachers.

• First and foremost: your conversations are not private. Other people CAN hear you. You are literally sitting inches away from other people. 

• Don't talk about money. And I don't mean how much the popcorn at the concession stand is. I mean be careful what you say about how much you spent on something, what labels you like or don't like, etc. Basically stay away from anything that indicates class or socioeconomic status. 
• Don't talk politics. Ever. I don't want to know who you voted for. (OK, maybe I do, but that's a conversation to be held at Starbucks over a cup of coffee.)

• Don't talk about other kids or parents, or your kid's teacher at school, or ANYONE unless you have something positive to say. Don't try to build up one child if it means you might diminish another child. This can happen easier than you think.

• Don't try to coach your kid from the sideline (this would be a request from my husband, the coach). {Although in T-Ball I think it's fine to gently remind your child to pay attention if needed; there are lots of kids on the field, and the coaches need all the help they can get. If you've sat through a T-Ball game lately you know it's like herding squirrels.}
• Don't badmouth the coach, the umpires, or anyone else. (You never know when the coach's wife, husband, or kids is sitting right beside you!) Especially if they are volunteering their time. 

• I think the recurring theme here is not to assume that everyone sitting around you believes the way you do or must have had a similar life experience. Just because you're both watching your 7-year-olds play baseball together wearing identical shirts, hats and cleats, doesn't mean you haven't traveled drastically different paths to arrive at the same place at the same time.

There are lots of Bible verses about watching your mouth, and no where are they more applicable than at the ball field. Here are some good ones.

• Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. Ephesians 4:29
• I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak Matthew 12:36
• Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. Proverbs 16:24
• Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble. Proverbs 21:23
• Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent. Proverbs 17:28

Now I know this can be hard. This is as much a reminder to myself as anything; I like to talk as much (or more) than anyone else.  Sitting (and sitting and sitting) can lead you to be careless with your words. And chances are you do know most of the people you're sitting by fairly well. I think it's just worth reminding people to be sensitive to the others around them. 

What else should be on the list of bleacher etiquette? Does anyone else have any stories similar to my Abercrombie & Fitch experience?

Dear Meijer, I just might be able to quit you now...

Listen, I know we've had a tense relationship, fraught with distrust, anxiety, and frustration. I'll admit I'm not blameless. I know my kids have provided highlight fodder galore for your security cameras. I've caused the need for a "cleanup on aisle 9" (and aisles 2,3,4,5) more than once. I've flirted with the Super Wal-Mart, Kroger, and even Martin's. And yet I always come back to you and your large selection of produce, Kashi cereal, proximity to my house, and reasonable-ish prices. And probably most thrillingly, the shopping carts with cup holders. You sure know how to get me Meijer, oh yes, you do.

But yesterday I made a quick trip to get a few things, swinging through the produce section on my way to the checkout, knowing I'd be back tomorrow for the marathon trip where I drop upwards of $300 to feed my family for 2 weeks. I remember to stop at the raisins and dried cranberries section (my kids love those dried cranberries! go Mom!). And as I stoop down to pick up a box I notice something so unexpected and nasty I back away quickly, hoping I'm imagining this. Surely, not at my Meijer! I skitter to the checkout lanes, trying to put it out of my mind.

So today, back I go again to your vast acreage of everything from light bulbs to towels to milk to hummus to hamburgers. I follow my well-worn path around the grocery wing. Ending, as I always do, in the produce section. I think to myself, I'm just going to take a peek under the cranberries and raisins. I'm sure they cleaned that up! I'm sure 5 minutes after I left they had some hard working teenagers (or, perhaps, trained professionals with Hazmat suits) wielding mops and orange cones cleaning that #### up.

Think again, Carmen, think again. Over 24 hours later, here is what I found.

What is this? I've narrowed it down to dead birds or decaying, rotten, soggy, corn on the cob (which was in season, what, late last summer?) Oh Meijer, what kind of funk have you been hiding 'neath your displays lo these many years? I feel like I don't even know you anymore! Sure we've had our issues, but this! this I don't know if I can get past. We've had a good run, you and I. Oh? You have something to say?

Seriously? You think reminding me of your shopping cart cup holder (that so snugly and perfectly fits my Grande-Iced-Toffenut-Latte-with-Whip from Starbucks) is going to salvage this relationship? OK, you might be right. We've never had a problem with that part of our relationship.

But the point remains. You are going to have to clean up your act. If you want to keep me you need more OPEN checkout lanes, and for crying out loud, do something about the furnace-like heat that awaits me while I wait (and wait and wait) to pay for my groceries which increases my core body temperature by 10 degrees. And stop moving stuff around. Seriously. Pick a spot and stick to it. Remember when the hygiene stuff was NEXT to the grocery aisles? Now it's on the other side of the store. Put it back. And tell your cashiers not to carry on political discussions with the people ahead of me in line while my 2 year-old does laps around the adjoining empty lane. Oh yes, I could go on and on. But first and foremost, clean up the dead birds under the raisins and cranberries.  

Sincerely,

Carmen

My Love Story

In the midst of the cleaning/organizational machine that I've been this month, I've devoted very little time to thinking about Valentine's Day. Oh wait? February is over? Well, in any case, my husband went on a ski trip for a few days last week and, it seems, absence does make the heart grow fonder. I realized how much I depend on him -- not only for help with the kids (which was sorely missed) but also for his bad puns, reprimands for not turning off the outside lights, and being forced to watch NBA games (although technically I sit in the room and read my Kindle while he watches NBA-- I put the book down only for IU basketball).

Our love story goes back 13 years almost exactly. We started to date right before Valentine's Day, 2000. We were both living in Anderson, me in my junior year of college at Anderson University, him having graduated but staying on as an assistant baseball coach. He was friends with my older brother, Jeff, and had lived with him in a house off-campus, which is where I had first met him while visiting my brother.

Early on in my junior year, I went out to BW3's with my brother, and two guys I knew as "Sim" and "Hoob." I don't even think I knew "Hoob's" first name was Brent until that night. We had a fun time and later went back to Hoob's apartment to watch some movie. He had a white cat who sat on my lap all through the movie and shed chunks of white hair all over the black sweater I had BORROWED from my roommate.

We had a few other run-ins in and around campus. He gave my car a jump once when it died in the parking lot as my girlfriend and I were getting ready to leave on a shopping expedition. Plus sometimes I ran into him in the cafeteria while he showed baseball recruits around. Looking back I knew there was a spark when I said hello in the cafeteria on one of those run-ins and placed a hand on his arm. I felt a little zing and remember thinking, WOW, nice arms! However, it took me awhile to see him as someone date-able. But then my brother moved to Hawaii and things started to change a little bit. In short, he became a lot...friendlier.

I won't go into the big, long debate over who approached who at a certain basketball game. But the story ended with him asking me to take care of his cat while he was out of town that weekend. I said yes, and that was his "in."

He started calling, we started talking, I wasn't sure at first if he was being a surrogate big brother or if it was something more. Brent was a great recruiter for the baseball team, and I got the full effect of his subtle but very persuasive "recruiting style." Let me say, at this point in my dating life, I had just gotten out of a very (short-lived) relationship which ended with me getting thrown-up on, both literally and figuratively. When you go to a Christian, liberal arts college like AU you have a lot of earnest Christian Ministries types but there's also a party-hearty crowd that would fit right in at a big state university. I often say that I felt like I was too good for the bad guys and too bad for the good guys. Yet somehow Brent and I were at the same place in life, with (eerily) similar backgrounds and values. It didn't take me long at all to fall in love, and it didn't take much longer than that to know that he was the one. My roommate Brianna told me she knew I was in love when I "stopped bitching about whose turn it was to buy toilet paper." :)

However, to the chagrin of feminists everywhere, I took "The Rules" dating advice and wouldn't tell him I loved him until after he told me. While I was impatiently waiting for him to come to this realization and profess his undying love for me, I accompanied him to the baseball field one evening to change the sprinklers (moving around sprinklers is such a part of this guy's identity I'm not sure he'd want underground sprinkling even if we could afford it). So we sat quietly on the bleachers watching the sprinklers for a few minutes when it started to softly rain (cue ambiance!) and then he said, "Carmen, can I tell you something?" LONG PAUSE (my heart was racing! I was SURE this was the moment I had been waiting for!) And then he said it..."I think about you probably every second of the day."

Now, if you're thinking I was disappointed I didn't get an "I love you," you'd be WRONG. That was definitely the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. I got my "I love you" not too long after that anyway. From that point on we were pretty inseparable. And probably nauseating to those around us. We were engaged the following Thanksgiving and married the next June.

It hasn't always been roses. He's not perfect. I'm not perfect. But we make a good team. We've been good for each other and we complement each other, I like to think. He's goofy when I'm serious, I'm goal-oriented when he's scattered. He is, hands down, the best father I could have ever hoped for for my children. I'm a lucky girl. After 12 1/2 years, one baby girl tragically stillborn, one of our parents succumbing to cancer, a diagnosis of a weird genetic disorder, and Lyme Disease, he's still the one I want to share my good and bad times with. We have three beautiful, healthy children, family and friends that love us, and a faith that has sustained us through it all. Every couple has a love story. I think everyone should take a few minutes and write it down. What's yours?

SOS! Someone Please Organize This Cupboard!

I have a lovely, nice-sized kitchen. One thing it's missing, however, is a designated pantry. So here is my "pantry," a large lower cupboard with a funky weird shelf. In it (as you can see) I keep pretty much everything food-wise except for baking supplies and cereal boxes. (Sorry for the poor quality pics, my flash wasn't working). There's not much I like about this set-up; however, I'm sure someone with better spacial reasoning skills and an eye for organizing would be able to make this much more usable. I resisted the urge to straighten this up to take the pictures, because I want you to see what I'm actually dealing with on a day-to-day basis. 

 

 Does looking at this give you hives? I try not to focus too much on it because it gives me anxiety. So I need YOUR help and ideas to get this cabinet organized and usable for $30 or less (preferably less). I've been on Pinterest and I've browsed the home/kitchen organizing things on Amazon and in stores and haven't found anything that I think will really work for me. Here are some of my thoughts.

• I have looked into and discarded the idea of those pull-out shelf things. This is a very deep cabinet and I haven't seen anything that would actually work that would fit in my budget. It works for me to keep the canned goods on the narrow shelf at the top, but I'm wondering if there's a better way to store them or if I'm using this shelf to its best advantage.
• Other challenges I have are named Brady, Reid, and Audrey. They get in here and make a royal mess. I keep this latched close for the toddler's sake, but the older ones can get in. Which brings me to another challenge.
• I need to get in and out of this cupboard quickly, due to the aforementioned toddler trying to climb through my legs to get to the chips. So I don't always have time to keep things in an orderly fashion. Whatever I do end up with needs to make it EASY to keep it organized.
• I COULD eliminate the narrow shelf if I found some awesome solution that would necessitate its elimination. 
• I feel like there's a lot of "wasted space" here. See how things on the bottom get shoved under that shelf? aka the "Black Hole"? 

So how would YOU organize this cupboard? I'm hoping all you right-brain, organized, neat-freak people out there will send me your best ideas! 

I'm trying to tackle my kitchen this February, so this will be the first of several posts where I ask for you help and ideas to make the "heart of my home" a little less stressful and a lot more user-friendly.

(yes, we go through a lot of applesauce)     

                                                                                                     

Potato Chips! How do you organize potato chips???

My Parenting Book Library

I'm a reader. I like to read...just about everything. When I was pregnant the first time around my mom gave me a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" and I discovered a whole new genre of non-fiction- PARENTING BOOKS!

First, let me say I'm so glad I'm a parent today instead of even, say 30-50 years ago. I enjoy research. I believe in the power of a well-crafted, peer-reviewed, research study done by people whose passion in life for the well-being of children is so great that they've devoted their considerable, time, money, and talents to studying and helping the general public understand how children think, feel, and behave; and how we as parents and society can give future generations the best possible chance for a healthy, fulfilled life. That's a long but important sentence.

Now, with that said, of course I don't read everything as the gospel truth. Just because something is in print doesn't mean it's irrefutable. I've got an education, critical thinking skills, and a mind of my own, as well as my personal experiences to draw from.  However, I'm glad to be in a period in time where there's a wealth of information on how to do the hardest, most important job I've ever been given, how to be a good mom.

So the following books are ones that I have read (and there are times when I go through one a week) and feel should be staples in every parent's library. Even on the gender specific ones, I think if you only have children of one sex, it's worth it to read all of these. After all, your kids are going to be interacting with children of the opposite gender, might as well know what makes them tick too!

(Full disclosure: Just so you know, I'm anti-spanking so none of these books I mention will advocate for that.)

• The Baby Sleep Book by the infamous Doctors' Sears (there are like 14 of them). This was one of the first books I read on the subject of WHY WOULDN'T MY KID SLEEP? Anyway, this talks a lot about "attachment parenting" an approach that even if you decide isn't for you at least you'll know what everyone's talking about.
• The Baby Whisperer Solves All Your Problems by Tracy Hogg (now deceased). This is a GREAT book and this is the one I credit with actually solving my eldest child's sleep issues. It was so bad that when he was 9 months old I stopped at Target on my way home from the job that I had just quit (I was exhausted, we hadn't slept in 9 months) saw this title and read it cover to cover in 24 hours. I consider this to be a great middle ground between the folks who say you have to sleep with your baby and breastfeed till he's 3, to the people who advocate "crying it out" even if he makes himself throw up.  This is where I learned about how to establish a routine. Another great aspect is the online community (which I read and used extensively) when confronted with certain sleeping/feeding/behavior issues. With women all across the world! 
• The Happiest Baby on the Block by Harvey Karp. I wish I had read this book with my first child, but I still benefited greatly when baby #2 came around. I consider this sort of revolutionary. My husband and I watched Harvey Karp speak in Elkhart about 5 years ago. There was a baby crying in the audience. He brought it on stage, swaddled it, and calmed it in seconds. Amazing. "The Happiest Todder on the Block" is another good read. I also recommend his dvds and swaddling blankets.
• It's a Boy! by Michael Thompson and Teresa Barker. This covers a boy's development from birth to age 18. This was my first introduction to Michael Thompson who I LOVE and I wish I could put in my back pocket and pull out whenever I feel frazzled and overwhelmed with my boys. His writing is just so readable and easy to relate to. This would make a great baby gift if you know someone is having a boy.
• Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys by Michael Thompson and Dan Kindlon.  This book rocketed to national attention after the shootings at Columbine High School. I can't overstate what an important book this is. I think every person should read this. It's heartbreaking, eye-opening, and enlightening. 
• The Michael Thompson love-fest continues with Best Friends, Worst Enemies: Understanding the Social Lives of Children and Mom, They're Teasing Me: Helping Your Child Solve Social Problems. Both of these are great reads. You'll find yourself reliving (and hopefully healing) some of your own childhood wounds too. 
• Probably my favorite book and the one I most recommend is Parenting with Love & Logic by Jim Fay and Foster Cline. I really appreciated this parenting book's approach to discipline. My oldest child and I have personalities that clash quite often. This book gave me a philosophy, strategies, and things to say that worked and brought peace to our home. It's a way of interacting with your kids to minimize yelling, threats, and arguing. I was happy to see this book listed as "recommended reading" at our elementary's kindergarten round-up. I also really like their daily motivational Facebook advice. They have other great resources on their website as well. 

I recently finished Peaceful Parent, Happy Kid: How to Stop Yelling and Start Connecting by Laura Markham. I found myself underlining a lot. I REALLY like her approach to self-regulation. She is anti-punishment, pro-limits. It was an interesting read, it's sort of like attachment parenting for older kids. I just started Playful Parenting by Lawrence Cohen. So far I'm totally buying his approach. If you're a person who has a hard time getting yourself motivated to play with your kids 1) you are not alone and 2) this book will give you powerful motivation and ideas about how to become a more playful parent.

I probably have a few "honorable mentions" but these books are the ones that have shaped my core parenting philosophy. As a Christian parent, I particularly enjoy the approach used by Michael Thompson and The Love and Logic authors. These really resonated with my faith (although they are not "Christian" parenting books, persay). So this is my book list, what's yours? I'm always open for reading suggestions!

You look just like...

that girl from "My Two Dads"/Darlene from Roseanne/Celine Dion/Gloria Estefan/Jennifer Aniston/ the girl from Meet Joe Black/the mom from Diary of a Wimpy Kid/my neighbor/my daughter/my niece/my friend's cousin's neighbor's daughter.

I guess I just have one of "those faces." Complete strangers often feel compelled to stop me in the middle of the mall to tell me that I look like someone. When I was a waitress I couldn't go a night without someone telling me I looked like someone they knew or had seen on a TV show somewhere. Most of the time I think if you tell someone they look like someone else it's supposed to be a compliment. Only a couple of times did it make me want to cry. 

Here are pictures of some of the various other people I've been told I look like. Mind you, some of these I find more flattering than others (sorry Sara Gilbert). 

The one I've probably heard the most (although not in recent years since I think she's dropped off the planet) is Staci Keenan, of 80's and 90's sitcom fame. [Note: the pics I've included here I've chosen because I feel like they represent the resemblance people/compete nutjobs have noticed. Most of them involve dark hair and a somewhat prominent nose. Oy.]

Next up is probably my least favorite. Darlene (Sara Gilbert) from Roseanne. The first one is when she was younger while one the show, the second one is more recent. 

Next up are a few weird ones. Celine Dion and Gloria Estefan. All I can say is, if you think I have a big nose just tell me.

And here's another weird one. But I rather like it. My high school friend's dad told me once that I looked JUST like the girl in Meet Joe Black (Claire Forlani). Oh what a nice man. To be honest, I think all he saw at the time was a similar haircut, but hey, I'll take this comparison any day. Also, he might have been drunk.

In more recent years, a girlfriend told me that I looked like the mom (Rachael Harris) in the movie adaption of "Diary of a Wimpy Kid." I googled it, and this is definitely more like the "aging-mommy-glasses-wearing-me" I've been for about the past 6-8 years.

And the funniest one (to me) was Jennifer Aniston. It's another one that I quite like, although I think it's complete rubbish. Actually, it was really only one guy (a former co-worker) who thought I looked like Jennifer Aniston. After one hilarious and memorable lunch in our office's staff room it was revealed that Adam (who is black) thought that any petite-ish white girl with long hair looked like Jennifer Aniston.

As of today, add one more to the list. Apparently I look like the Duchess Katherine in her (bad) new portrait. The one that makes her look like she's in her mid-thirties and has spent all night up with one of her three kids who was sick/having nightmares/teething. Oh wait, no wonder she looks like me. 

My New Year's Resolution

For the past few years I've had the same New Year's Resolution. Get organized, and maybe lose a few pounds. Every year I come up with some kind of a system to help me stay on top of house cleaning, bills, diet, exercise, etc. This year is no different. I look to my right and see my desktop organizer (which is actually sitting on my kitchen counter) overflowing with stuff, as well as the  three foot radius surrounding my computer. We don't have a desk or a room to put a desk in at this house, and there's a lot to like about having my "command center" in the kitchen, where I usually am. However, we seem to be accumulating more and more and more stuff. Stuff that I don't know what to do with or where to put.

I have read the book and tried to follow (with some success) the Flylady, I subscribe to Real Simple and Better Homes and Gardens magazines, I read iheartorgnaizing, and my "Organizing" board on Pinterest is FULL of stuff that could make my home look like a magazine and, henceforth, my life a model of inner peace and tranquility. Last year when I got my smart phone I was just sure that a digital organizer would be the key to everything; however, it still takes discipline to enter your appointments and schedules as they occur. So now I've invested $30 into the upgraded version of my organizer app in hopes that the monetary commitment will make me use it more.

But no system or picture of a perfectly organized linen closet is going to be enough for me. It can be inspirational, for sure, but a lot of times that inspiration leads me to feel like I can never quite measure up. All of these things require discipline. Which, OK, I think I'm a fairly disciplined person in a lot of ways, but I have never particularly mastered the art of picking up after myself. My style of cleaning usually involves spending a chunk of time thoroughly cleaning, organizing, putting away, etc. followed by a long period of letting things build up again until I can't stand it anymore, then repeating the process all over again. But now I'm responsible for more than just myself... and things can get, well, a little hairy over here.

So I guess what I need to focus on instead of the cleaning/organizing/diet plan is becoming more disciplined. That's why I think I had some success with the Flylady. She works on building one habit at a time (i.e. you start by cleaning your sink every day). I also learned from the Flylady that it is my perfectionism that keeps me from my goal of an organized home and life. Unless I can do something perfectly or completely I would rather not invest the energy in doing it. Which probably accounts for the near-constant state of frustration I feel when I look around my house. So you see, I'm not really a disorganized slob, I'm simply an overwhelmed perfectionist. :) 

What to do, what to do. I looked on Amazon for some books about developing discipline and they seemed to be oriented around men in the workplace wanting to "self-actualize" (and thereby make more money) or diet books. Not really what I had in mind. 

So is it back to the Flylady I go? I don't know. I mastered her system for a period of time...but that was 2 kids ago. Not sure I can do it now. But that's why it's a resolution, right? To challenge yourself? If it was easy they'd find something else to call it. I actually enjoy the beginning parts of a new challenge. Once I get started I'm good to go...for awhile anyway. 

So I'm looking for suggestions, tips, resources, etc. from my friends and family, but here is what I'm going to do in the meantime.

• dust off my Flylady book, go through her website, see if there's anything new that I might find useful.
• sign up for another HelloMornings Challenge (provides accountability groups for waking up early to devote time to exercise, planning your day, and bible study). Registration for the next challenge begins Jan. 16 if you want to join me!