Outside the Comfort Zone

I didn’t even think about submitting anything.

Okay, I thought about it. I thought about what I would write about. But I didn’t think I’d actually send it in. Because that’s what I do. I think lots about stepping outside my comfort zone. Very rarely do I take that first step.

But then I got a text message that made me think I should.

So I wrote. I had a pretty good idea what I wanted to write about. But each time I sat down to write, the story took off in a different way. So then I would start again. And again. I started that piece more than five times. But I couldn’t ever finish it.

I had gotten this far into the process, that now I couldn’t back down. It became a challenge that I needed to take on.

I asked for help. I sat down with a couple of friends at two different times and asked “Why can’t I write this?”

At the end of the day, I was just trying to tell the wrong story.

*  *  *  *  * 

Several Sundays ago, at about 5:30 in the morning, I woke up with a jolt and started writing something that would start a healing process I didn’t know I needed. I started writing a story that began more than 16 years ago.  

I finished writing a few hours later. I took a copy with me into my room and, for the first time in ages, I read what I wrote to my husband.

I couldn’t even get through the first sentence without crying. My sweet husband placed his hand on my leg and just listened as I read and sobbed and read and sobbed.

*  *  *  *  * 

Saturday afternoon, I sat in a room with the wonderful Nichole and Margaret and I read that same story for my audition for Listen to your Mother. (Sans sobbing, luckily.) I’m really not sure I can accurately explain how grateful I am for this experience. For this process that I found myself going through. I can’t thank Nichole, Margaret and the LTYM event enough for this chance to do something that inspired me in ways that I didn’t think possible. I’m so thankful, no matter the outcome, that I stepped outside my comfort zone to write and to want to keep writing.

They say all the magic happens when you step outside your comfort zone. And I can’t wait to see more.

My Never-Ending Crush on Clinton Kelly

I’ve had a crush on Clinton Kelly for years. (No really. Click on that link. If you don’t currently have a crush on Clinton, you will.)

Family viewings of What Not to Wear marathons? A fairly regular thing. (And yes, we love Stacy London, too.)

Impeccable style and know-how of the fashion world? He’s your man.

Adorable and wonderful and just damn awesome? He’s guilty on all accounts.

Clinton has been traveling to different Macy’s throughout the country to share his fashion advice, tips and upcoming trends. Nichole, Margaret and I were invited to attend the local Macy’s Makeover event at the Roseville Galleria. I was tickled pink. (And then fretted about what to wear.)

From start to finish, Clinton was as wonderful and entertaining as you would expect him to be. The first part of the event was a fashion show with women of various shapes, sizes and skin tones that presented some of the season’s hottest trends. There were some fantastic pieces on that runway for work, casual and evening wear. (I’m still dreaming about most of the Rachel Roy items that were modeled.) Clinton’s fashion advice was as good as ever, but my word that man is hilarious. Even when he momentarily loses his voice, he has you laughing as he compares himself to Peter Brady when his voice changes…and then admits to an inner panic attach thinking that his voice really did disappear. He even brought some women from the audience to help them out with their fashion or body issue questions. He handled it with such a lightness and such class, it was really a great part of the show. Even when he was using an audience member to demonstrate the best tips for “booty issue” and shirt lengths.

Of course, there are some great tips that made me think about what’s sitting in my closet at home:

I learned a much more important lesson about jeans:

There were parts of the show that I really felt like he was speaking to me:

But then, even as he was over his time, and he was getting the signal to wind things up, Clinton Kelly made me adore him even more. He couldn’t leave without telling all women that we should stop being so mean to ourselves. To stop talking about how much we hate the various parts of our body. To love the body we have.

And then, even though he was speaking to everyone, he made sure to single out the younger girls and reminding them that the models and women that we see on TV, magazines, etc are not real examples of what a women’s body looks like. Those women are plucked, tanned, photoshopped, whatever…and it’s not real. We should all stop trying to look like those women.

I have my own body issues and trouble spots. I focus on them so much more than I should. Okay, I focus on them always. And as much as I loved watching the latest trends walk down that runway, the advice and tips that were given stuck with me the most. Don’t get me wrong, I now want everything Rachel Roy has to offer, but dressing to feel more confident in the body I have now was my favorite part. It was the pep talk I absolutely needed to hear. So, thank you Macy’s for putting on a great event. And thank you Clinton Kelly for being wonderful and adorable and just gosh-darn amazing. I had a fabulous time.

Disclosure: I was compensated for this post, but the opinions are mine.

empty (coffee) cup

I gave up coffee for Lent.

I knew it would be hard. (Isn’t it supposed to be hard?) And I knew that there would be days that it would feel impossible. (Almost every day since last Tuesday?) I also knew I needed to do it. (Let’s just say that feeling slightly murderous because I can’t have it may be a good sign that I should give it up for a while. Or long while.)

The problem? I’ve eaten like crap the past several days because I can’t have coffee. Like absolute, mother-trucking crap.

I don’t know what my problem is…I’ve given up coffee before. I’ve observed Lent for the past 5-6 years (I think?) so I know how to give things up! And at the beginning of this year, I gave up coffee because the thought of drinking it black as I started the Whole 30 made me cringe.

And yet, here we are. Not even a week in and I’m still feeling like I have coffee-withdrawal rage.

Maybe that’s why I count my “coffee-date” today at Starbucks and absolute victory. Because I drank hot chocolate. I drank hot chocolate in the land of coffee beans and latte goodness. I drank hot chocolate even though I REALLY wanted…something else. I drank hot chocolate and only complained ONCE.

(Granted, there should be NO complaining during Lent, I’m pretty sure. This is my choice after all.)

And honestly? Being sick for two weeks threw me off everything. I KNOW I would feel better if I went back to Paleo/Whole30/Whole9 eating. I really know that I would. So maybe giving up the all the coffee I was drinking to survive the day is the very best thing to get me back on track and feeling better. Again. Because I’m an idiot that never learns.

I’m also an idiot that still REALLY wants a cup of coffee. Or a latte. Or something coffee flavored.

Apparently I have a long way to go. And a lot to learn.

no cupcakes before marriage

Cupcakes from our favorite cupcake joint have become a Valentine tradition.

Now, I’ll admit that these cupcakes are pretty damn good. In fact, they are quite the prized commodity in the Chaos household. We buy them for special occasions or holidays. We maybe, possibly schedule around the Flavors of the Month that are our absolute favorite.

Delicious and a family favorite to be sure. But I never realized how these cupcakes ranked in the world until yesterday.

Due to an upcoming Sadie Hawkins type of dance, Beezus is getting ready to do something she’s never done before: ask a boy to a dance. It has become a ‘thing’ to ask a guy/girl to a dance in a creative way. As she’s trying to come up with the way she wants to ask, I remember our dozen of cupcakes that we just purchased to share.

Me: “I guess we can sacrifice ONE of the cupcakes, and you could put a little note on that to ask him.”

Her: “Uh, NO. Not happening. He doesn’t get one of our cupcakes.”

A bit later after I realized what had just happened…

Me: “I suppose I should be glad that you don’t like this guy enough to give him a cupcake.”

Her: “It’s not like we’re getting married, Mom. Geez.”

Me: “A guy doesn’t deserve a cupcake until you’re married?”

Her: “Duh, mom. I mean…maybe we can go on a date there and he can buy his own cupcake. But yeah. It would have to be pretty serious to share a cupcake.”

We really were talking about cupcakes. Not lying. But I hope she stays just as particular with sharing…other things as she does baked goods. You just can’t argue with the imporance of waiting to share cupcakes.

ping pong thoughts

My mind is stuck in a ping pong game of distractions.

I feel like I can’t settle my thoughts.

I keep thinking that if I can write it all down, somehow I can channel all this energy into something productive.

And then if I can channel all this energy into something productive, maybe I can move on to some hard-working and organized behavior.

(Look. I said MAYBE.)

I know I’m restless. I know that I’m waiting and wishing and hoping for the next big thing. I’m trying to figure out what that might be, but I’m anxious to start on something. Anything.

It’s time for a new house. It’s time to buy again. Where we’ll stay for awhile.

We need to keep the planning going for college for Beezus. Junior High and High School plans for Ramona.

I need to decide if I want to go back to school.

I have some health and fitness goals I’m working on. (Running faster. Weighing less. Finding strength.)

I want to surround myself with more positivity and love. I want to stay away from negativity and anger.

I want to spend more time with my kids. (Especially before that oldest kid of mine goes away to college.)

I need patience. I need focus. I need to remember that not all these things will happen at once. I also have a job that, yes, takes up a lot of my time…but so necessary as I make all these plans.

Lent begins today. I’m not Catholic, but once again I will give something up (or add something in) in observance.

I don’t always announce it so publicly, but I’m giving up coffee. And I’m adding (a lot more) prayer.

As anxious and antsy as I am, I certainly could benefit from both of those things.

I’m not making any big promises, but I’m excited to get moving on that (incomplete) list above. It’s time to get shit done. And it’s time to be happy about making it happen.

time to get shit done

Sometimes I feel like such a wimp. Like, a wimp that is too scared of doing things.

Am I too scared of failing that I can’t find a way to make my own five-year-plan? Is the risk of not accomplishing a single item on my to-do/bucket list keeping me from making one? Have I been surviving for too many years that I don’t even know what a real plan looks like?

I want more. I want to live more. I want to do more with all that I’ve been blessed with. I want to love and laugh more. I want to spend more time with my kids before I blink and then I’m taking them to college. I want to make some sort of list of things that I want to do AND THEN ACTUALLY DO THOSE THINGS.

I don’t even know what I would put on that list right now. I’ve tried to make a list and put the stupidest things on there. (Sure, garden parties are nice but I feel like I’m capable of so much more.)

All the clichés! Live life to the fullest! Like every day was your last! I get it, Pinterest! I do!

But what the hell am I waiting for?

I need a plan and some deadlines and pair of kickass boots. (Kick ass boots just sound necessary.)

I can do hard things. And sometimes hard things are the things that we never thought we’d do.

I’m on it.

words

I’ve never been known for my confidence.

I mean…I know I’m a cool person and all, but…I’m pretty happy to sit back and let others have the spotlight.

Which makes stepping out of my comfort zone and writing a personal essay and having any sort of confidence about this, well…it’s hard.

The funny thing about writing is that sometimes it takes on a life of its own. Sometimes you set out expecting to tell one story and then all of a sudden you’re writing down a completely different story. One that you didn’t even know you needed to tell.

I’ll be submitting this story. Me. To something else besides my own personal blog.

And it scares the shit out of me.

I’ve never really put myself out there. Not like this. Not with something quite so personal.

I have no idea what will happen with this. And that’s okay.

I think I'm just so glad I told the story.