Eve's Daughters of Oregon

An Open Letter to Friends of Eve's Daughters

2010-12-03T11:21:00.000-08:00

Friends:

A year ago, we took a deep breath and stepped out with our first fundraising campaign. In return, so many of you stepped up—and we raised nearly $8,000 in that effort alone. Since it’s that time of year to be grateful for the bounty, we wanted to recap for you the growth that’s happened thanks to your support.

-We continue meeting with women individually to hear their stories and best meet their needs, and have more than doubled our contact list

-We’ve researched and met myriad needs, from distributing food and gasoline gift cards to helping with medical bills, to researching low-cost cancer screenings and low-income housing to creating mom-to-mom connections

-We began a monthly dinner after learning in our focus groups that our women struggled with a lack of local family and community. Since February, we’ve seen our numbers go from single digits to over 40 moms, kids and volunteers, and have “guest chefs” who volunteer to cook almost every month

-We started an online Meetup group to reach women outside of the area

-We were featured in a 20-minute radio interview at the end of July, which then brought in more single moms and volunteers

-We got our first monthly donor

-We revamped the website to strengthen our online presence and searchability

-We’ve partnered with another local church, whose support and programming specifically target area single moms

This and so much more—we’ve got a ton to be grateful for this year and invite you to join us in giving thanks.

What Lies Ahead
As we continue to grow and get a better handle on local “universal” needs, we’re hoping to next create a single parenting curriculum and a speaker series to address the topics we’re challenged with constantly: finances, legal advice, emotional support, etc. These will dovetail nicely into the community that’s been growing and gaining ground in 2010.

Our Greatest Needs
As we look toward 2011, we’re realizing one great need is office space. As you can imagine, it’s difficult to talk about deeply personal topics sitting at Starbucks. The more we grow and the more women we reach, the more we need a safe, welcoming spot for them to come talk and bring their kids, as needed. Our second great need is for a paid worker, starting with one day a week and hopefully moving to two, with the knowledge that still many hours will be donated without pay. With a dedicated worker, our reach will continue to grow.

For these and other programming needs, we are hoping to build a team of regular monthly donors. We currently have one, and she is likely lonely… Won’t you consider joining her?? Seriously, if you are so moved, any donation will help us continue strengthening our foundation. We hear comments regularly from women who’ve met other moms at the dinners and have started much-needed friendships and support, or many thanks from those who’ve received financial assistance to report they made it past that hurdle. As our community-wide safety net grows, we ask you to stay with us and thank you for your continued support and encouragement.

All blessings to you and your families—

Cathlin Brewer
Executive Director
&
Karen Sjoblom
Program Director
for
Eve's Daughters
PO Box 1959
Beaverton OR 97075

Grace and Peace

2010-11-25T10:48:00.000-08:00

I have people in my life who sign all their emails with with "Cheers!" or "Blessings" or "Best." But one in particular uses "Grace and Peace." This simple phrase weaves in and out of Paul's letters in the New Testament, almost always followed by "...to you from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." It's something I've read dozens of times that's never sunk in til this morning.

It's Thanksgiving, and, yeah, I'm supposed to be thankful. But sometimes I find it an impossible assignment. There are always loved ones struggling in some capacity, unmet needs, unfulfilled hopes. There's that stupid extra weight, or health challenges, or a shortage of time, or a conflict or three.

Things are not always as I would have them.

The grace part--the thing that smooths out the edges and makes each new day at least marginally doable--has to come first. And since that's an undeserved gift that we can't manufacture for ourselves, we've got to at least be aware of its existence. We've all been shown it, likely at some of our worst moments; it's the grease that keeps things running.

And then peace--glorious peace--follows: Likely you've had a glimpse of this, too, recently. The baby finally falls asleep, the job finally comes through, the teen finally gets home (even if it's 3 a.m.). It can range from a momentary glimpse to sheer relief to some stunningly clear vision, in the midst of imperfection.

You know peace when you feel it, just as you know what life feels like in its absence.

Somehow this morning, in between making a disgusting turkey hand puppet to completely gross out my daughter (just because I love to make her laugh), to talking to my big brother, to anticipating a houseful of friends 'cause we don't have much family nearby, I accepted some grace and got the peace to boot. It's a Thanksgiving first since my divorce, all those years ago, and I'm so incredibly aware of their presence right now I hardly know what to do with myself.

I don't have any illusions that this will last. And that's OK--they will come again. But for now, I feel them, this remarkable duo, on either side of me as I type, and I'm more thankful than I've been in a long time.

Exiting Chaos

2010-11-20T09:28:00.000-08:00

Not unsurprisingly, I'm overcommitted. Seems it's that time of year where I say "yes" to practically everything. I should know better: I function so much better in what I call my Zenny place--manageable, organized, quiet.

Too bad life isn't like that with any regularity.

Someone with some actual perspective reminded me this week that being a single mom requires a lot of juggling. Somehow, I forgot. But maybe the bigger lesson is that our lives in general, single mom or not, are prone to overcommitment. The more we learn, the quicker we run; the more technology, the faster we're expected to go.

Today, I'm jumping off the rat wheel. We get to have friends over for dinner tonight and I think I will forego autoclaving the house prior to their arrival. I may read a little while the roast cooks slowly. I'm going to ignore the sticky notes all over my desk, in 6 different colors (that means I've gone through 6 different pads of them recently), with the exception of crossing "BLOG" off the list.

What do you do to slow down and exit chaos?

Six months later...

2010-11-06T10:57:00.001-07:00

I have a magnetic notepad on my fridge with a quote from Joan Rivers that says, "I hate housework. You do the dishes, you make the beds and six months later you've got to do it all again."

When I saw how much time flew by from my last blog, I kinda felt the same: I suppose it would be beneficial if I actually kept up on it... And while it hasn't been six months, it feels like it. A lot of life has happened: kids back to school, kids leaving home, friends having medical crises, friends getting jobs, things breaking and things getting fixed...a whirlwind of real life.

In some ways, I feel really blessed to have this existence, balancing mom duties with work duties with Eve's Ds duties; in other ways, I find my heart breaks on a regular basis due to mom duties, work duties...you get the point. It's that cyclical nature of life that, ironically, keeps us both tethered and on our toes. Strangely, it's the promise of do-overs that helps me keep going: When things are good, I've got to remember to enjoy it because it will change. When things are bad, I can remember what I've slogged through before and that likely an oasis is coming.

The past six months of Eve's Daughters has seen more activity, more women, more successes, more failures, more stumbling and bumbling with a few things that really stuck. Kinda like real life. I don't know where we'll be six months later--but I'm grateful to be on the journey with you amazing women.

Risky Business

2010-08-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, a friend of mine relayed a comment made by a famous woman who's in the process of reinventing herself at midlife. The gist of it was that women need to let their daughters see them taking risks...and even see them fail (and of course, this goes for sons as well). The "gift" of failing, after you finish nursing your bruises, frees our most-loveds to fail themselves and learn that it's rarely fatal.

For anyone who knows me, it should go without saying that I'm not referring to heliskiing, mountaineering or deep-water scuba-type risks. I'm talking about starting that business, moving to another state (or country), living alone even though you're scared or lonely, giving so much that you're always living on the edge, going back to school...at 50.

I've always tended toward the orderly and predictable, preferring life to be on the neater side (if anyone had bothered to ask). But I'm also a very strong woman on a lot of levels. So why, then, do I want to show my daughter only the clean side, the pain-free side? Often, it's because I want her to feel safe, and that is a good thing...to a point. Because we live in an unsafe place where bad things happen to innocent people and longings go unanswered and people up and die, there's only so much safety I can provide. Do I want her to think well of me (by keeping everything neat and in control) or would I rather she think well of herself ("If Mom can do a face plant in life and keep going, so can I")?

The older I get, the freer I get, and the freer I get, the more I can share the real me with my girl. I'm less afraid of telling her the times I've been terrified; I'm no longer searching for the perfect answer, instead telling her I've often been unclear. This frees her to go through life wondering, questioning, marveling. Risking. The way we were wired. Life is indeed risky business--how are you living it?

For Giving

2010-08-01T13:31:00.000-07:00

"You may be the only Bible that people are reading," our guest pastor said this morning, referring to the fact that we're supposed to be *living* our faith in the world. We've got the guidebook, but how we do it and what that looks like is up to us.

I haven't been to church in a long time, but I heard to go this morning, and that pastor may have well as thrown an NIV upside my head. How often do I forget that people watch me, listen to me, hear when I'm snarky, complaining, cursing or despondent? Do I come across as hopeless...or hope-filled? Victim or redeemed? Compounding the issue is that he also said we need to be reconciled to whomever or whatever needs it, in order to be authentic. Real. And sadly, this involves the often painful experience of forgiving.

This last year has, frankly, been tough. There's been a lot of loss--of people, relationships and support. I've been adrift, questioning and feeling pretty lonely and forgotten. But if I take this morning's words to heart, then I need to take steps to make that right with the people involved if I want my parenting, my writing and my work with Eve's Daughters to have the scent of authenticity to it...vs. the stink of withholding, of unforgiveness, of bitter disappointment.

During my divorce, a wise friend taught me that often people who've hurt us don't deserve our forgiveness, but that I deserved to be a woman who forgave--that I was made for giving. Most days I forget that. I'm at that critical crossroads yet again: Forgive and make progress, or don't and stay stuck.

And although I am heavily into reality, I confess today that I am caught in the stink...even as I sit here, mere minutes away from gladly preparing a meal for some 40 single moms, their kids and our volunteers. I will happily pour into these women...but I also know I've got some hard interior work to do to make this meal--and the next and the next--all the more real.

My desire to be right, to be vindicated, fights with my desire to be free. But for now, I'm trying to be "willing to be willing"--to loosen my fist a bit, to relax into an imperfect ending. To go prepare a meal and serve it with imperfect grace. And I know if I stay willing, forgiveness will come with silent steps when I least expect it--when I suddenly find I'm no longer in this tight-fisted place, when reality shows up with wide, hopeful spaces.

Anchors

2010-07-18T16:03:00.000-07:00

I have been blessed with some of the finest women friends available--some long-term, some for a season--and all of them have somehow kept me tethered while encouraging me to still go deep. While in Chicago for my dad's memorial, I was able to catch up with four of my bestest high school girlfriends. It was fabulous because these amazing women--some of whom I knew in junior high--hold parts of my history that no one else knows. So in addition to being reminded of incredibly embarrassing things we did, we were able to catch up seamlessly and it felt like we never missed a beat.

In and around some abysmally poor service from a waitress who--how shall we say??--was not operating within her area of gifting, we got to spend a few blissful hours laughing, remembering and encouraging with a side order of some good-hearted mocking. Who knew--seriously?--we'd end up where we are: a long-term married with college kids; a married ER nurse with two adopted kids; a newer mom with two young girls at home; a professional w/o kids, and a single mom. We've worked, we haven't; we've had kids, we didn't; we've had relationships, we've been single...You'd think we wouldn't have much in common, but you'd be wrong. And with one who couldn't hear too well, two sharing reader glasses to scan the menu and a couple of us saying how the aging snuck up on us, we were a funny buncha broads if I do say.

These are some of the finest friends money can buy, and they have anchored me seemingly for a million years. There's no telling where I might have landed if I didn't know--really, truly know in my bones--that they would be there for me, long-term. We all can go crazy amounts of time without talking and pick up where we left off. And that is an amazing gift.

We want to create those kinds of deep relationships--those anchors--in Eve's Daughters. Getting these babies raised well take a long time and a lot of energy, and who better to walk alongside than someone who knows the landscape? I am grateful beyond measure to the women who help me, step by step. Come join us, be a beacon for others...and then take a minute to thank your anchors today.

I had an interesting conversation this morning about how churches often scramble to get as many people as possible through their doors but often fail to do the even-harder work of helping those people get as whole (and holy) as possible. My friend said, "Yeah, it's like getting people to clamor through the gates at Disneyland only to find there's no map to the good stuff inside."

The comment struck me. In a separate conversation yesterday with a newly single mom, I asked how she was holding up, how her kids were handling visitation, whether the exchanges with her former spouse were livable. She sighed and said, "It's so good to finally be able to speak about these things." She'd been on the side of the road too long, and I got the feeling she was searching for her map, as we all do, after finding our worlds turned upside down for one reason or the other.

In times of confusion, crisis, introspection, grief, even joy, it seems we need to anchor ourselves in relation to the landmarks around us: God, friends, family, work, kids, hobbies...whatever it is that keeps our footing sure. Each of our maps vary, as each of our landmarks are deeply personal. But all of them have the spot with the X that says YOU ARE HERE.

More than anything, I want Eve's Daughters to be the X on the map--where a woman can know without a shadow of a doubt that they can learn to do the single mother gig with strength, grace, humor and health. I don't want to simply build our numbers, having women streaming through our doors, without a map to what's inside. But the irony is that these maps can't show a list of directions to follow; rather, they become apparent over time, footprint after footprint, conversation after conversation, friendship after friendship. We invite you to explore being "Here" with us.

Fatherless But Fathered

2010-07-02T13:06:00.001-07:00

I just came back from a long, hard, good trip to Chicago, my hometown. The occasion was my father's memorial service, with some catching up in and around that event. This trip, more than any other, cemented the fact that "home" is gone and I don't get a do-over; however, only during this trip, too, was I finally OK with that ending.

I loved my earthly dad but in the end, I could not have a relationship with him. It cost us both too much. I love him still and hope more than anything that the restless man I knew is at peace. I have worn my fatherlessness since last November, when he died, like an ill-fitting garment. Sometimes it chafed, hitting too close to home. Sometimes, it was too airy with the unsettled differences still hovering between us. It's taken some getting used to but I've tried to keep my eye on God, tried to keep asking and listening and moving. Tried to keep living.

I smile to think I now have two Fathers in Heaven, totally, wildly different. I have ached to have a last conversation with my dad, one that worked, but now I just kinda of talk to him during the day, as I do with my other Father. I wish I could hear something back from either party, but I think it was Oswald Chambers who wrote that we grow to the point where God trusts us with His silences. Generally, I wish not to be so trustworthy in these types of situations, but for now, silence it is.

And in the midst of all this processing, life keeps happening: we continue growing ED in fits and starts, people come and go, my daughter gets taller and wiser, things are breaking left and right, friends suffer and celebrate and we keep shuffling left right left. But something has shifted in this latest process: I *know* without a doubt we're being watched over. Silently, with eyes that don't tire. The old vulnerability is gone. And I think that's one of the smallest and biggest things we can hope for in this world: To matter to someone else, but to also know the cost of aloneness and, therefore, develop the empathy to want to help pay someone else's way.

And that, in itself, can give life.

A lesson from graduation

2010-06-21T11:49:00.001-07:00

It’s over…high school graduation that is! My son is officially done with his K-12 education…he is an adult…he is off to college.

I made it…high school graduation that is! I raised a respectful, intelligent, and compassionate young man…ready to take on the world.

Retrospect is an amazing thing. Today I realized that I spent most of the graduation season looking back (going through old photos for the graduation poster and photo album) or looking to the future (how will I cope with him away at college…what will our life look like in this next chapter?). In between the past and the future, I spent some time in the present.

I had a barbecue to celebrate my son’s graduation. As my gift to him I vowed to not freak out about the condition of the house, the imperfect backyard, the lack of time to do all the special things I wanted to, and the inevitable chaos surrounding food prep (for the most part I kept my vow…mainly because I asked for help and I graciously received it). Instead I focused on enjoying each moment. I laughed, cried, shared, loved, and observed. I watched my son as he navigated the crowd…making sure each person there was talked to…was made to feel welcome…was appreciated. I participated in all that he is.

Perhaps that is the biggest lesson I can take away from his graduation…I need to enjoy and revel in the “right now”. It isn’t about surviving the thought of “empty nest”. It isn’t about questioning why the years went by so fast…it is about appreciating where we are.

I have spent the last 18 years worrying if I did enough of the “right” things and fretting about what comes next. While I think it goes against our human nature to spend 100% of our time in present moment…I need to consciously choose to engage in life as it unfolds.

I wonder if a post-it note or a string around my finger will help me remember…habits are hard to change. - Cathy

Your Average Single Mom...

2010-05-19T11:52:00.000-07:00

If normal is just a setting on the dryer, then perhaps average should be relegated to baseball stats. Cathy forwarded some November 2009 US Census Bureau statistics from a study* that were pretty eye-opening about the “average” single parent. Approximately 13.7 million single parents in the US today are raising some 21.8 million children (approximately 26% of children under 21). While there are many custodial dads out there, here’s what the “average” single mom entails:

Approximately 84% of custodial parents are mothers
She is divorced or separated (45%), never married (34.2%), widowed (1.7%) or now remarried (19%)
She is employed: 79.5% of custodial single mothers are gainfully employed, with 49.8% working full time, year-round, and 29.7% working part-time or part-year

She and her children don’t live in poverty (73%). A minority receive assistance (22% receive Medicaid, 23.5% receive food stamps, 12% receive some form of public housing or rent subsidy, 5% receive TANF)
She is 40+ years old (39.1% of custodial single mothers)

She’s raising one child (54% of custodial mothers) with 46% raising two or more children

As fascinating as some of these stats are, what we’re finding at Eve’s Daughters is there is no “average.” Certainly, there are commonalities, but each woman has a story as unique as her fingerprint.

I confess, years ago, that I struggled with my prior “picture” of a single mom. It wasn’t pretty, partly based on where and how I was raised. That picture worked for me…until I became one of them. Then it became personal, and it forced me, humbled, to edit that image. And that’s developed a far greater humility in me to not be so quick to judge, across the board—that I don’t know, can’t know, every person’s back story.

Now, with our organization, maybe that’s why we feel so strongly about developing relationships first and foremost, versus assuming a cookie-cutter approach. Because when we take the time, what we’re hearing goes far beyond average…often into the extraordinary.

Is there a single mom in your life that deserves a second look?

*United States. Census Department. Custodial Mothers and Fathers and Their Child Support: 2007. By Timothy S. Grall. Census, 2009. 26 Feb. 2010

The Tiny Life

2010-05-07T20:08:00.000-07:00

"The spiritual life is not a life of success; it is a life of faithfulness, and it’s not easy. God knew we would naturally be dazzled by big; that’s why Jesus told the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son…Jesus was trying to tell us something: The spiritual life is a tiny life, filled with little decisions, tiny steps toward God, tiny glimpses of His presence, little changes and small movings, tiny successes and imperceptible stirrings.”—Michael Yaconelli, Messy Spirituality

Happy birthday…to us. Eve’s Daughters received its official non-profit status a year ago, the day before Mother’s Day, setting a new land speed record in terms of 1023 approvals. And since that momentous occasion…there’ve been fits and starts, and sometimes just fits, usually thrown by me. There’s been lots of planning, and talking, and listening. There’ve been seemingly 1.7 million emails, and distress calls, complete with head-in-hands. And still, all told, it’s been kinda tiny work. We are still “wobblers”, not even toddlers yet, in a world that’s not always supportive of non-profits, regardless of need.

I smiled when I read Michael Yaconelli’s description above, that God knew we would be dazzled by big. Like the bumper sticker, “Distracted by shiny things,” I find myself thinking there must be something bigger to be had, bigger to be done, bigger just in general, and it makes me lose my focus sometimes.

But then I think of all the tiny decisions: For Cathy to have been listening to hear the name “Eve’s Daughters”, for me to know it was time to join her, for all the planning, for choosing the board members, for writing the background material, for starting the fundraising, for developing the monthly dinners, for every cup of coffee over listening to a woman’s story. Each was a tiny decision to move toward to the vision, closer to the hope, even when everything swirled around us that maybe the whole thing was a mirage, a mistake.

We see changes in the women we serve, seemingly imperceptible at first, and then gaining steam. I've come to learn that tiny steps eventually do add up. So when I’m tempted to think we’re not making a difference (or a difference that anyone could notice), I’ve got to remember to narrow my focus. For someone of my wiring, this doesn’t come naturally or gracefully. But I keep hoping there will come a time when I get the perspective I crave—that it was all supposed to be this way, a little breadcrumb trail to sustain us, living the tiny life in a big, big way.

Birthing a non-profit is not unlike our other births--joyful, messy, scary, overwhelming. But that something tiny that we helped usher into the world--who knows what it will grow into?

A letter to Tes

2010-04-26T15:24:00.000-07:00

Cathy's Note: Tes Syzonenko, a fellow single mom, passed away on February 24, 2010 after a very short battle with cancer. She leaves behind her 18-year old son, family, co-workers, customers, friends...and me.

Dear Tes,

I haven't been ready to write...I have just been waiting...for what I'm not sure. But today I passed your son on the way to school and the tears came again. I miss you. In recent times, we didn't see each other much, but there was a time when we were a big part of each other's lives, and we were always in each other's prayers.

I can't help but think about you as Eve's Daughters begins to blossom. You would have loved the concept of moms supporting moms. Of creating a place for moms to belong, to socialize, to talk, to be accepted, to be loved. You would have been right there dishing up the soup, helping the little kids with crafts, and sharing your journey as a single mom.

But you aren't here. It happened so fast. I was so lucky to be able to share the last weeks with you, to watch your courage, to tell you what a great job you did raising your boy, and then to see you say goodbye to him.

"I won't see him graduate," was the first thing you said to me when the doctors told you it was terminal. When I saw your son today...I couldn't help but remember the words. High school graduation is around the corner.

Tes, I know you struggled at times with being a single mom...we all do...but you held on. You made difficult decisions when you had to, you fought the good fight daily, and you loved at all times. You would have never thought of yourself as an inspiration to others...but you were...and still are.

Eve's Daughters is a place where single moms can come to be encouraged, renewed and validated. You would have loved it. You would have been right there serving with a smile so engaging that people would forget their troubles for awhile.

I wish you were here. I'm not ready to say goodbye. So instead...thanks for teaching me so much about perseverance...so much about sacrifice...and so much about love. Thank you for showing me that it doesn't matter what our struggles...it is all worth it...we do it gratefully for our children.

I push on with Eve's Daughters knowing how important it is to moms like you...and to sons like ours. I love you Tes, thank you. - Cathy

What Does Your Saturday Look Like?

2010-04-06T11:50:00.000-07:00

I had a great series of conversations recently with someone who’s been helping me walk through some disappointments. While this person is definitely pro-Karen (which is a fabulous help), he can’t walk the path for me. All he can do is listen, point me back to True North and help me on my journey.

The gist was such: Between a promise ending on Good Friday and a promise anew on Easter Sunday, one can have a long, lonely, questionable, faith-trying time on Saturday. That’s where I’m at right now, on a number of fronts. And you can’t always expect people to be willing to hang with you on a Saturday, if you know what I mean: Sometimes, there’s other stuff to do, and maybe your friends are living in Tuesday or Wednesday mode.

But if I rally a bit of faith, I know I can get quiet and pray. I can believe that Sunday is coming, if not immediately. I can remember that lonely Saturdays can be good for me, in a stretching kind of way, if I can accept them and not divert the grief into cleaner closets or more organized cabinets. If I can remember back to other Saturdays—and there’ve been plenty—that eventually gave way to something wobbly and new.

What’s your Saturday looking like? Are you waiting on a job? On a check? Is your kid sick? Do you need to forgive…or be forgiven? Are you worn down with resentment? Are you doubled-up with longing? Whatever it is…remember your other Saturdays. Know that others have traveled this path. Trust, even if it seems a longshot. Call someone who’s pro-You. Chocolate never hurts. Pray. Sunday will come.

A word or two from Elizabeth

2010-03-08T08:57:00.000-08:00

Quite often I am completely blown away by my kids...usually by the maturity and the "know-how" they possess. My daughter posted this drawing and poem on my "DREAM BIG" bulletin board. I thought it might be a good thing to share...mind you this is my 15 year-old daughter writing...

When things go wrong as they sometimes will, when the road you're trudging seems all uphill. When the funds are low and the debts are high, and you want to smile, but you have to sigh. When care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you must, but don't you quit. Life is queer with its twists and turns, as everyone of us sometimes learns. Many a failure turns about, when she might have won had she stuck it out. Don't give up though the pace seems slow, you may succeed with another blow. Success is failure turned inside out; the silver tint of the clouds of doubt. You never can tell how close you are, it may be near when it seems so far. So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit. It's when things seem worst that you must not quit. - Elizabeth

Today I hold on to my child's words...knowing that the wisdom she imparts today was partly gleaned from doing life together over the last 15 years. Just when I think I haven't done enough...they show that they get it. Thanks for the lesson Elizabeth, love Mom

Bye Bye Bob

2010-03-07T12:52:00.000-08:00

I went searching for a bandage this morning and found Barbie. Scooby. Dora (ok, those are really old). And my old fave: Bob the Tomato from Veggie Tales. But I couldn't find my secret stash of plain, old beige band-aids and came to find out...

E has been using them. Secretly. Sez she's too grown up for Bob and Barbie after all.

We've had an abundance of maturing exercises lately, between family, friends, body changes and the like. 1 Cor 13:11 says we're expected, when we're children, to act like children...but eventually the goal is to mature, putting our childish ways behind us.

Does this go for moms, too? Because I have been struggling to let go of the especially sweet childish stuff--the innocence, the lack of attitude (!!), the long times of make believe when anything can happen. I am blown away by the lovely young woman she is becoming...while I still recall middle-of-the-night feedings with lullabies playing softly.

(Wasn't that just last week??)

How do you adjust to the changing seasons of being a mom?

Why It Sucks to Be a Fish Poop Paperweight

2010-02-12T09:28:00.000-08:00

There are some mornings in this child-rearing gig when I well up and really am thankful for the job. Then there are some mornings when, simply to cope, I feel compelled to shove down maybe a dozen deep-fried apple fritters followed by a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ONE Cheesecake Brownie.

Doing the right thing day in and day out is tiring, unglamorous and highly overrated. Yet that’s what me and my single-sistah-mommies keep choosing to do. I’m not at liberty to discuss details here, or name names, much as I’d like to, say, from a rooftop with a bullhorn, but I sometimes get weary of being The Anchor. You know, the one who keeps everything level and safe and moving and responsible and, well, anchored. Sometimes it really hits me that anchors live a life of unseen servitude while nestled silently in centuries’ worth of fish dung.

Or maybe that’s just how it feels this morning.

During the long slog of trying to raise our kids to be fit to roam the world someday, it can feel hopeless. If you’re a divorced mom trying to co-parent, you can find yourself facing seemingly untenable cross-purposes. Seriously: It can make a girl go on a sugar binge.

So, while I’ve got too much work to do to make a fritter run this morning (and I’m sure my butt will thank me later), I am trying to remember my Lamaze breathing and tell myself that we’re only halfway through this very large and important assignment of getting someone raised up right. And that maybe the view from the ocean floor will look a little more promising tomorrow. I’d be curious to hear how you all deal with being in the sometimes exhausting and unpopular position of The Anchor. OK…I need to hear it this morning—humor me, will ya?

Tough lessons

2010-01-30T16:16:00.000-08:00

I think I probably knew this before...but the last couple of days have really convinced me. I react to the experiences my kids have as if they were my own experience. Is this what mom's do? Do we internalize our kids' good and bad experiences into our own emotional life?

As much as I have been writing about thinking on good things and making the most of every moment, I am in a funky spot...one that I can't really explain but is best put, "I feel out of sorts". I am hurting for my kids.

Without going into details, suffice it to say, my kids have had some tough lessons this week. I so want them to only have good times...to never be disappointed...to get all that they want. I know that isn't reasonable for myself...why do I want it for my kids...why do I somehow expect it to happen? I dream big for my kids and I am left grieving when they hurt.

I realize there isn't anything I can do to "fix" the situation for them, but I want to. I can offer a listening ear and, if they let me, some insights from my years of valuable experience :). It seems that is all they need. If I get too upset about their "lessons", and internalize them, they begin to feel that they can't share with me or, worse yet, they take responsibility for my feelings.

So...all this said...as I ponder what it means to personally "love the moment"...I need to remember the same rules apply to the kids. They need the good and bad just as much as I do. It helps shape character...it helps them learn what they want from life...and it gives them belief in their own ability to handle life's ups and downs. I can see them confidently handling both...all that life throws at them. That feels much better than internalizing their hurt...

Another take on "moments"

2010-01-27T11:21:00.000-08:00

I haven't been sleeping real well lately...and last night was another one of those up at 1:30 a.m. times. I awoke with the thought that there are no wasted moments. Too tired to blog...I captured the thought and headed back to bed.

In the light of day...and I mean light of day...it is beautifully sunny here in Oregon...I still hold to not wasting moments. However, I hear in my head voices saying...not all moments are wonderful...bad things happen..it isn't always possible to only have good moments...sometimes we can't help but focus on bad things. Yes, this is true...bad things do happen...and how we choose to process them affects our approach to living life.

My daughter recently came home with a mug she made, sporting the phrase, "Half Full!!!" She has been working on how she views life. Challenging herself to see things "half full" versus "half empty". It doesn't mean that there aren't any road bumps or sink holes in her life, it means that when she comes up against them she is trying to see the good in the situation.

All moments are gifts from God...both the good and the bad. The "bad" help us to recognize the "good". If we only had the "good" how would we know how good life really is? So while I recognize that it can be tough to overcome the obstacles in my life...I can make a choice not to obsess on them. I can look at them as the yard stick from which I measure how good life is...I can accept that the "bad" has made my enjoyment of the "good" so much sweeter... Cathy

Wasting the moment

2010-01-26T13:59:00.000-08:00

Tuesdays are a favorite day of mine because I get to go to my acupuncturist. I always leave with more things to think about than when I walked in. Today she told me that she recently caught herself pondering a difficult time in her life, something that didn't feel good. She stopped herself and said, "That is such a waste of a moment". She allowed herself to focus on a more positive moment in the present.

I love it. "Such a waste of a moment!" Our lives are made of many, many moments...but in the end our human lives are defined by a finite number of moments. We get to choose how to use them. We have a choice...we always have a choice.

In each moment...we choose our thoughts, our activities, our intentions. If we make the choice to focus our attention on the negative, on the bleak, on a rough time in our life, on a life without hope...aren't we just wasting the moment? I don't like wasting anything...I will be more intentional with my thoughts...with my choices...with my moments...Cathy

Productivity will have to wait

2010-01-23T11:28:00.000-08:00

My daughter shut the front door early this morning and we both heard a clanging noise...she looked at me through the window and shrugged her shoulders...I mouthed, "I've got it, you get going". I walked around the corner and discovered the deadbolt on the front door fell off. "Dang, this is too early in the morning for repairs", I thought, and went back to bed.

I'm up now...with coffee in my bloodstream and a strong commitment to be diligent with my time this weekend. Today I am going to get more done. Today I am going to be more productive.

So, here I sit, with my blank piece of paper, writing down all the things I "should" get done today. For added efficiency I assign a time for each task...I need 30 hours today if I want to have a couple of hours to have fun. You see, today I want to go bum around Tuesday Morning with Karen...and I don't have the time if I am going to be "perfect". Maybe I can steal from Sunday's hours. So I mapped out Sunday as well. Maybe if I go to church at 9:00 am...

I have been doing this single mom gig for a long time, and I am still not used to having to do it all myself. The cleaning, the college finanical aid forms, the taxes, the soccer team finances, the board member duties, the errand running, the laundry, the cooking, the front door fix-its...and oh ya, the nurturing.

Hmmm....the nurturing. That just popped out. It brings a smile to my face. Because that's why I signed up to be a mom in the first place. so I could nurture...love...listen...share...grow...give. All the other stuff is just that...stuff.

Heck with the detailed list...heck with being "perfect". I am signing off and going for a walk with my daughter. I'm going back to the beginning...to why I became a mom in the first place...to love on a child! Tuesday Morning will have to wait....- Cathy

Unexpected grace...

2010-01-21T22:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I told Karen that I would blog...daily. I don't know if that was such a smart idea...but here goes (don't expect essays...maybe more random thoughts).

I just experienced an unexpected bonding moment with my teenage daughter. Tonight she validated my motherhood. I have often told myself that maybe when the kids were 30 or 40 years old they would see that I had their back, tried the best I could to be stable, offered a compassionate shoulder to cry on, and did the best I could to lessen the impact of divorce. I never imagined I would receive a glimpse of that grace when she was 15 years old.

Tonight we sat in the car and talked...about the divorce...about the ugliness. She was 7 months old when we split up. She says she doesn't know the truth about what happened...meaning who left who. Frankly, I don't know if the truth is that easily explained any more. It's probably a little bit of my truth and little bit of his. She says she will never know the truth, because there are "two sides", "two perceptions". She seemed okay with that. So did I.

In the midst of the conversation she looked at me and said I had "moved on", "grown up". My 15 year-old, so very much in the present, helped me see that I have mostly let go of the past. I don't need to fight...I don't need to explain my side...I don't need to make sure she gets how hard I try to be a good mom. She sees it. We live it.

So tonight, in a very unexpected moment, we both grew up. I could see in her eyes that she is going to be okay, and I felt the same for myself. It is so hard to know if we are doing a good job as moms. Especially when the kids are teenagers and they start to exert their independence. My lesson learned: just live life...be true to who you are...and know that one day they will see the sacrifices and love you give them. That grace may come sooner than you think. -Cathy

A Little Bite of Reality

2010-01-20T17:54:00.000-08:00

So. Cathy said I should blog. I would not have, frankly, without her prompting but she brought up a great point: This is what life looks like a lot of the time. At least be honest about it.

I got a call this morning before 8 am on my cell from my main boss-lady (I am a freelancer with several boss-ladies and a boss-guy). When that happens, I know something has gone terribly awry. Not one but two last-minute projects kinda blew up my day--this day...the day I'm supposed to working on Eve's Daughters stuff. Stressing to get my girl to school, I tried really really hard not to rip off her head and scream down the hole when she suggested she leave several dozen math problems (her least-favorite subject) until late tonight when they're due early tomorrow. Other little "mice" as my friend Kathy calls them--niggling little obnoxious things that go wrong at bad times--occurred, such as the kitchen faucet screen coming loose enough to spray water like a clown with seltzer all over my windows.

In the midst of this, I called a young women with whom I was to meet today--a single mom who's struggling. She asked apologetically if we could reschedule. I mouthed thankyaJesus so I could put out all the newly erupted fires. But then I thought: I know I need to be doing Eve's Daughters...I just don't know how I can be doing Eve's Daughters when life is crazy a lot of the time. I'm not in a position to be turning down paying work; again, as a freelancer, you have to take it as it comes. But am I working for money or God? I wish it truly were the latter but I'm telling you, He's got to pay better, you know?

So there's my honest confession, courtesy of Cathy, of saying reality kinda bites sometimes. I believe I know what I've been called to do; it's just that life gets in the way a lot of the time. And while I'm pretty sure that God will someday judge our progress with Eve's Daughters and proclaim me a major disappointment (because He always liked Cathy best), I try to remember to get out of my own way and not give myself too much credit--that I'm so terribly important that the world might just spin off its axis without me. You know. More or less.

So later this afternoon, when the fires died to embers, I took myself out for a walk and enjoyed the blustery smells. Then I made some dinner and wrote my to-do list for tomorrow and realized it will all keep going--Eve's Daughters included--with or without me. Em may be up late tonight doing math problems and learning a valuable lesson about time management. I probably don't have to micromanage that.

I wish I could wrap this up cleverly but I'm fresh out. Just know, moms, that we're all trying to figure it out. But at least we have each other. And we're keeping it honest.

Self-Help

2010-01-04T10:18:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I did what I haven't done in ages...I visited a self-help section at the bookstore. Not just any bookstore...but Powell's downtown! I am amazed at how many books there are on how to fix myself. Get happy...get skinny...get smart...stop letting people take advantage of you...live life with intention...find the man of your dreams...the list goes on...

Why was I there? I'm not really sure. I think I wanted to heal my life. What I realized in walking up and down the stacks of books...by an endless number of authors...is that I have all that I need to heal my life right inside of me. I don't need books. I just need me...and my God.

God knew what he was doing when he picked Paul to be one of his "go-to" guys. Saul/Paul...a man in need of some self-help if ever there was one. Until that road to Damascus...then his life changed...in an instant. God changed Paul...and Paul's words can help us change.

I don't know if God works such "in your face" miracles these days...but I do know that God can make the difference between a dreary life and a joyful one. It isn't something that just happens though...we need to do our part. We need to participate.

As the new decade unfolds I am committed to uncovering God's teachings on how to lead a joyful life...beginning with Philippians 4:8:

"...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things."

At the highest level, it begins with God...and continues with understanding our place in Him. In its practical form, it begins with changing our thoughts. Changing what we think about...what we meditate upon.

What I realized when I walked out of Powell's without making a purchase is that I have the only book I need...I just need to read it...and meditate on it. I have God's Word...the Bible. The best self-help book around. - Cathy

Women's Worth (or "Ode to The C/Kathies. And an Annie."

2009-12-15T09:58:00.000-08:00

One of my C/Kathies wrote a great blog today about the loneliness women can feel and how important it is to have our tribe/cheerleading squad/fabulous girlfriends at the ready. Especially this time of year, when we can feel assaulted by the happy intact family Hallmark brigade, it's important to take a break to remember.

I confess my father's recent death has hit me harder than I would have imagined. But in my reeling, I've had my friends stand sentry, even when I would have been more comfortable being alone in my grief, not liking to do the red-nosed ugly cry in front of an audience.

But Cathy came over that first day to walk, and has since listened and questioned and provided some amazing blueberry tea. She gets that you just need to show up, and has been waiting patiently at the ready for my dam to burst which, actually, happened last Friday.

Then yesterday, Cathy & Annie got it, laughing, when I questioned through my tears whether my seemingly distant God was enough when I had Ben & Jerry so close by. Plus Annie said she'd never have guessed that I'd gained weight, grazing through my grieving. I mean, c'mon. Does it get better?

Two other Kathies listen like wise women who know (and they do), and yet another Kathy asked to borrow my daughter this Saturday so they could bake cinnamon-y yeasty stuff. All day. And then have me back for dinner that night.

In and around the loneliness, the lostness, I have these amazing compass points. I've just got to look.

What do you need to tell your tribe this Christmas?

Death and Life

2009-11-29T17:15:00.000-08:00

So, my dad died a week ago today from injuries sustained in a car accident.

I have been "fatherless" for a week, technically speaking. But based on our rocky relationship, I have been fatherless for far longer due to numerous understandings and misunderstandings. But I have to say, this past week I've been acutely aware that I have one less layer of protection in the world, even though I stopped needing a dad years ago, even though he hadn't been my "dad" for years.

I spoke with a pastor today who commented dryly that single parenthood wasn't a very sexy cause, so to speak, but that single parents impact us all--individually, societally, corporately. We need to be committed to them, to each other, even though our life's not terribly glamorous, even though it's often a slog, day in, day out...first right then left.

I know a little more about my father now that he's died. I know more the reasons of why, perhaps, he didn't have it in him to do the daily slog with me.

I know that God in His mercy has seen fit to give me the best rental dads a girl could ask for. And one special one who's considering a lease-to-buy option. :)

I know that I didn't want to need things from my dad. But maybe he needed to be needed.

As I continue to process his death and my new place in life, I'm reminded that I need to stay anchored. It is easy to feel alone and untethered as a single mom, and especially easy now with the thought that occupies much of my time and brainspace these days: Huh. He's gone. Some friends who've lost parents already have been especially tender with me, knowing the questioning, understanding the floundering and for that, I'm especially grateful.

But as much as I ache for a different ending with him, I know that I must continue contributing to a different ending of my own. It's why I want to continue this good work started here with Eve's Daughters and why I continually invite others to join me.

Maybe we'll get to the point where there's community instead of polarity, of a miles-traveled marathon versus a quick check-in. Maybe our glamorless status will become nearly comical in its irony: Because we'll have each other, and that's a thing a beauty.

And perhaps most important, those relationships create another layer of protection: of caring, of concern, of listening, laughing, crying, walking...living...in an uncertain world. And maybe that's plenty more than any of us can hope for, giving or receiving.

-Karen

Do Over...

2009-11-21T17:46:00.000-08:00

Is it possible to get a “do over”? I want one…not because I feel I need to right a wrong; not because I want to take something back that I said; not because I simply messed up. No, I want a do over because my kids have grown up and I’m not ready…

How does it happen? It seems like just yesterday I found myself a single mom. Then E was 7 months old and J was 3 years old, and now E is 15 and J is 18…a man…an adult!

Today E and I walked to the elementary school so that she could work on her hitting and pitching. When we were done and I was walking the track…silent tears hit my cheeks. Why can’t I have the time back? Why can’t I be sitting in the gym waiting for J to play a revolutionary soldier and E to play a recycling cheerleader? Where did all the time go?

I write this as J heads to watch the Westview girls play in the state soccer championship…his high school career finished. Where did the time go? Just yesterday we were checking mountain passes for snow so we knew the best route for a soccer game in Bend…

One of the hardest things about being a single mom is that we tend to just survive the moments…instead of enjoying them. We are too exhausted to do otherwise…we have so much to do…so much to organize.

Today I want a do over…I want to stop trying to orchestrate everything, live in each moment, and love each interaction with the kids. The interactions of today are different, but they are still moments…still memories…still love. It’s never too late. I may not get the do over that I dream of (starting back at kindergarten and reliving the moments), but I do get a do over in terms of attitude…I can look for the good in each interaction…each moment…each word. I can smile at past memories and focus on living in the new ones…

I’m not ready for E and J to grow up, but I am getting used to it. Life isn’t over…it is a continuation. I do get a do over of sorts…today I choose to enjoy each moment and make new memories to add to the fabulous ones of the past. Today I get a “perspective” do over. I challenge each of you to do the same...whether a single mom, a married mom, an aunt, or grandma...live in each moment...make memories...and think upon the good in it all...past, present and future.

The Lonelies

2009-11-19T11:28:00.001-08:00

Cath & I were just discussing yesterday how we've kinda dropped the ball with regard to blogging. It's not for lack of work; there has been lots of activity, not the least of which is our first fundraising effort. But if you're like me, you know it's easy to put your head down, dig in, work a lot...and feel totally disconnected from the human race. And *then* I wonder why I feel so lonely...

I'm always amazed that my daughter is so young but she *gets* it. She knows, every now and again, to declare it Jamma Day and just hang around, chilling. I'm sure she did not learn this from me. She wants to snuggle on the couch, watch too much TV and connect with me, while I'm...looking at my watch and thinking how much there is to do.

Call it the Clash of the Types: I'm an A (maybe even an A+!) and E is somewhere lower in the alphabet. Perhaps a Q or so. But I don't sense in her the (sometimes inherent) loneliness I feel from moving constantly. It seems she knows how to unplug, charge up and re-group.

I wonder: Did I know this long ago, before life caught up with me?

I'm so thankful for a business partner like Cath, to whom I can say, "I'm just struggling and I feel alone" and know she doesn't feel tasked with fixing anything. My friend Rebecca filled that bill last weekend, and my brother the other day. Perhaps as single moms, we need that connection even m0re, so we can turn back around and plug into our kids again, successfully, rather than losing all our juice. Not to mention plug into each other so we can keep encouraging and keep going.

I know the disconnect is temporary, and that I'm less alone than I think. But maybe it's during these times that we learn the good reminder to stop and reach out, instead of treading even faster.

Easy Does It

2009-09-27T17:41:00.000-07:00

I got to spend time with a good friend this week--one who knows so much about me that we simply pick up where we left off. In the four or five years since we've seen each other, we've navigated middle- and high-school transitions, full-time employment, relational quandaries, second-floor bathroom overflows that require holes cut into first-floor ceilings...the usual. There's an absence of judgment and an abundance of laughter. My petite blonde friend is raising three active boys, so her looks deceive: She has a core of titanium underneath the slim exterior.

We laughed about how lax we've become, as moms, as the years pass: What once would have sent us in a panic to the ER now merits an unsterile Band-Aid, haphazardly applied. She noted that a woman she knows refuses to let her boys play with pretend guns at home. But she has no problem asking my friend if her boys could come over to play with her boys' pretend guns. And, somehow, this woman is the better mom for it. Go figure.

The further I slog down the Mommy Superhighway, I'm finding I know less, not more. I thought my utter dedication and tireless supervision would keep life in line, but there's so much over which we have zero control. My girl's heart gets bruised with some regularity. Plans change, people leave, life is terribly unfair. I get crabby when I'm feeling overworked and underappreciated.

I wish someone would have told me early on that diligence is fine and all, but Easy Does It should be the new mom's mantra. I think I'd have fewer gray hairs and more good memories, less stress and more fun. I wouldn't have gone as ballistic years ago when I saw my then-toddler sharing her ice cream with the dog (one lick for her, one lick for him), or as wigged out over a 104-degree temp that barely slowed her down.

I'm hopeful, as Eve's Daughters progresses, that we'll have more stories based in an easier-going reality--of times when cereal suffices for dinner, when cleaning the toilet gets waylaid for a game of tickle, when an outing for $1 ice cream is doable even on the tight budget. When Easy Does It becomes a way of life.

How have you simplified?

-Karen-

All Things New

2009-09-08T20:07:00.001-07:00

It's become my favorite time of year. I love September because, to me, it signifies a clean slate, a grand re-do. Close your eyes: Remember the sawdusty smell of freshly sharpened #2 pencils? A new tip meant a new start: mulligans for all, with hope abounding.

My girl came home from her first day of middle school and said it was “awesome.” My heart leapt, relieved, as I’d been wondering about her all day. She had teased me this morning, asking if I was going to cry like I did when she started first grade.

I told her today was kinda like first grade again, but she was taller.

Fresh lunchbox, fresh backpack, fresh start. My heart aches, grateful.

I cannot tell you how or why, but it feels like I’m getting a do-over as well. I have been quietly thankful, not entirely sure of the circumstances or how long they’ll last. But I feel supported, buoyed by a clear course. I’m no longer rudder-less as I was in the early days of my divorce. It feels to me like an early thanksgiving—purposeful but humble, jubilant but shy. It took a long time, but I’m becoming new.

I talked to an old friend tonight who’s known me since I was 12. I told her about this strange state I’m in; she told me I was due. The newness is tempered by the full knowing that life continues to twist and turn, to present challenges and those ubiquitous “growth opportunities” that “build character,” as if we need any more of that. Things will break; homework will perplex; doctors’ bills will come. Nothing really changes, but everything does, seemingly. Something has shifted, and I think it has to do with purpose, and direction, and understanding and maybe some hard-won wisdom.

I’m getting to see things, people transformed, and it’s pretty amazing. As bittersweet as it is to watch my girl grow, knowing she’ll need me less and less, it’s equally thrilling to watch My Girls (and I use that term with love) grow—the amazing single moms I’m meeting and learning about. I mean, how cool is that—that I get to be along for the journey?

I hope you enjoy the strange newness of the season as well—I’m finding what seems like an ending often is a beginning.

-Karen-

Love the moment...

2009-08-29T09:14:00.000-07:00

I am really trying the "it's all good" mentality...honest! It is hard to change one's thinking from how hard life is to a moment by moment enjoyment of the little things in life...but I am trying.

I came across this plaque last weekend when I was shopping with a friend from college...I didn't buy it the first time I saw it...but when I went back to buy the "It's all Good" serving bowl...I picked it up. I figured I needed a reminder.

So here it sits on my desk...serving to bring me back to the good..."love the moment"...find the joy in each second. It is when I think about the past, worry about the future, or add it all together that I lose my perspective. It's then I start to see the glass half empty. So focus on the moment...the second that I am in.

It's as simple as watching the water come out of the hose as I water the plants. Each drop is like a little bubble dancing before it hits the ground. Or seeing the smile on my daughter's face as she talks about her community service project this morning or watching a squirrel gather nuts from our oak tree.

If I try to stay in the moment...the right now...the joy of the second. Will the seconds morph into minutes...then hours...then days... Is that how perspective changes? Is that how it turns from glass half empty...to glass full...

Want to join in the experiment? Love your moment...let me know how it goes...still trying to figure this all out...

Cathy

It's all good...

2009-08-19T09:16:00.000-07:00

I have a friend that starts each day with “It’s all good”…she is rubbing off on me.

I have to admit, I have leaned toward the glass half empty frame of reference a lot of my life because I felt I wouldn’t get disappointed that way…I wouldn’t be hurt…I wouldn’t feel rejected. I thought it was a good strategy.

Maybe that “thought” wasn’t on target.

So at the risk of growing up a bit…I am trying it…the “It’s all good” strategy. So far so good! My daughter, Elizabeth, asked me why I was smiling the other day. “Just because”, I told her (imagine the look of shock, confusion, then shoulder shrug).

It feels good to think good thoughts. The alternative is not very fun. How come I didn’t see this before?

It feels good to look at the early morning sky, hear the birds chirp, see the squirrels climb trees, see the flowers bloom, the leaves on the trees dance in the breeze. I love the stars at night, and the cooling off from the hot summer day.

Even writing this takes practice…it’s a bit uncomfortable to be so hopeful. Breaking the habit of bracing for the worst…always on ready for the next shoe to drop…for the next crisis. Don’t get me wrong. I know the challenges will come. They have to for me to keep growing, for life to have variety, for life to have meaning. I have always “thought” life would be good if I won the lottery, was married to a fabulous man, had perfect kids, a perfectly run business, and had no problems. I am now able to start thinking that a “perfect” life might be boring…and would certainly not produce any growth in me. I think I do a lot of my growing through the challenges I face each day.

Want to join me on this new journey...focusing on the good in life…

“Filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious – the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse…Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies”. Philippians 4:8-9 (The Msg)

Cathy

Milestones

2009-07-14T21:27:00.000-07:00

I have been doing a lot of thinking about milestones lately…milestones in work…milestones in marriage (my parents just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary)…milestones in growing up. The milestones in child-rearing are the ones that I spend the most time thinking about.

You see…I thought I was free and clear when my kids were old enough to stay at home by themselves…then old enough to drive…then old enough to watch the dog when I went out of town on business. I didn’t count on the old enough to talk back…old enough to want independence…old enough to spend the summer with Aunt Molly…old enough to go to college…old enough to leave me…

When our kids are younger we wait with the camera at ready to capture those “firsts” like rolling over, sitting up, walking, talking. Something happens along the way…between kindergarten and senior year…we are no longer so ready to pull out the camera and capture the milestones…the battles…the good-byes.

I don’t enjoy the fights about keeping the room clean, doing the laundry, setting a curfew, enforcing family time. What happened? All a natural evolution…just like rolling over…but oh…it sure isn’t as cute...and sometimes it hurts!

I have been spending a lot of time rationalizing my thoughts and feelings. “It is all normal,” I tell myself and continue with, “They are so much better off asserting their independence…this is the right thing for them…it isn’t about me!”

I don’t think it is just a single mom thing…but I think it might be more pronounced. In many instances our lives have been our kids…it has had to be. There just wasn’t enough time to take care of work, laundry, bills, kid activities, kid homework, and still have a life of my own. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t do it any differently. But…when they gain that independence and they aren’t at home…I am left with myself. Left to wonder…what’s next? What do I like to do? Is it time to start achieving my own milestones…ones that are just about me?

It is a new game…a new day…one that has more time for me. I will still be here for the kids…but they don’t need me in the same way. It is different now. I need to adjust to the new life…to the new expectations…to the new reality. Time for me…huh?

Vaguely Familiar

2009-06-25T20:14:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I couldn't stand Em's room anymore so I suggested we clean. Well. OK. I started cleaning and asked her to join me. As she entered the room, she motioned to the open window, "It's freezing in here."

"Au contraire, my little petri dish. The open window is keeping me alive in this," I said as I swept my fingers over her bookshelf and created a Pigpen-style dust cloud. "Too bad I don't have haz-mat gear."

After she finished rolling her eyes, she started cleaning as well and it dawned on me: I must have gotten the wrong baby at the hospital. Because I actually like it clean, you know, relatively speaking.

So all week I've been thinking of the many ways she and I are different, how weird that is, and how much, frankly, *I've* had to change in raising her. Just saying. She's not having to change, I am. And I wonder if she'll ever know *me*...or just me as Mom.

While I've become a better me--a more patient me, a more selfless me, a more protective but bittersweet me--it always costs to change. As a single mom, I liken this to feeling around a dark room, trying to get my bearings without another important adult there to provide a clear reflection: Ya bump into things--emotions, feelings, dust and dirty socks--and it's up to you how you handle it.

We are entering a strange new time, she and I, where we butt heads as often as holding hands. She's pulling away, wondering who'll she'll become as she grows up. I, too, wonder what I will be as more Me, less Mom.

Any other mothers going thru this? Do tell--
Karen

There's always a decision to be made

2009-06-16T05:47:00.000-07:00

There are quite a few things I dislike about being a single mom, but making decisions on my own is definitely at the top of the list (right before taking out the garbage…seriously!)

Since the beginning of this journey…fourteen years ago…decision making has been my weak spot. Especially when it comes to my kids. I sometimes feel as if I am stuck behind a gigantic elephant, wondering what lies ahead…how will my decision affect the path...and will I make the right one? This morning is no different. I awoke at 4:30 a.m. thinking, “I can’t let him do it by himself”.

My son is getting ready to choose colleges and this summer is the summer of soccer ID camps. We have known this for awhile…we just haven’t known what camps. Last night we made some decisions. He will go to at least two different camps, one close by and one a plane ride away. The one a plane ride away starts the day after my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We are celebrating in Sunriver…the entire family.

So what’s the problem? Josh needs to come back to Portland the day of my parents' anniversary to leave on a flight the next morning. I think I should go with him, get him settled, get him from the airport to the campus…and just be around in case he needs me, needs reassurance that he is awesome, unique, and one heck of a guy. Is that too much? How do I let go at the right time? Does he still need his mom? My gut tells me this is a scary time in his life…exciting but scary. So many unknowns...am I an anchor for him even now?

I have to admit I have allowed myself to get knee deep in the empty nest blues – and he isn’t even gone yet – he still has another year at home. Is my wanting to go about me…or is it about him? Of course, the simple answer is to ask him if he wants me to go with him, then try and read his facial expressions…make the right guess. Is he nervous? Would my going help him? If I do go…what about my mom and dad and their anniversary?

You see, I hate making decisions on my own…

The Christian-thing to do is pray…and I will. But, God doesn’t always answer a mother’s plea as soon as she thinks He should…but it is a start. It gives me a sense of peace that someone bigger than me is in control. Plus, if I lift it up, then maybe all the pieces will fall into place…like maybe his Dad will volunteer to go. Would that be the right solution…should I call him? Should I ask him to go with Josh? Would that make the situation better?

No answers…but I’m at the place that I need to be…in prayer…asking God… hoping …and trusting (fast pulse) that He will provide a glimpse of the road ahead…a tiny sneak preview of the path that unfolds in front of the enormous elephant blocking my view…

Community

2009-05-26T19:00:00.001-07:00

Locally we are experiencing a beautiful crisis. One of my favorite people lost her husband in an accident. She has four babies to get raised. She is surrounded, right now, with friends and family and food and help. She is treading water in that love, and it's a beautiful thing to watch.

So beautiful, in fact, that I want to recreate it for our community. Watching my friends react to this loss, seeing them expand to their very tender best, witnessing people giving in their ache...this is what I want for our single moms. It became so clear for me. I want that support whether a woman has been widowed or abandoned, whether she filed or he did.

Is there any less need?

This has impacted me on a number of levels, both personally and professionally, both heart and head. Cathy and I talked about it over the weekend: How amazing would it be for people to come together and protect the most vulnerable? This is what the Church is supposed to do, and sometimes it happens. But could it become what Eve's Daughters is known for?

On my other blog, I just wrote, "Sadly, I think most of us have only experienced a taste of this (kind of community) ever in our darkest times. How do we fix that--so that being alone in your abandonment or betrayal or shame is the exception and not the rule?"

I wait, right now, knowing things that are not ready to be discussed. There will be time for that, for me and my friend. But I pray there's also a time for all of us to all come together--that it will become our new norm.

Join us?

-Karen

Five Bucks

2009-05-19T18:12:00.000-07:00

Well. We did our little shpeaking gig for Eve's Daughters this morning to a couple hundred women. Despite my nervousness, despite Cathy's back being out and having a really sick daughter at home, it went really well. At the end of our little deal we have the Big Ask for volunteers, etc., and I made a joke about people unloading any unwieldy piles of cash our way--now that we can give them an honest-to-gosh tax exempt donation letter. Of course I was not expecting anything.

But then the coolest thing happened: A little gray-haired lady came up to me afterwards and grabbed for my hand. She then placed a wad of money in it and said, "It's not much, but I'd like to make a donation to your organization."

Oh. My. Gosh. This was like my grandmother slipping me candy money when I was a kid. It was so incredibly sweet, and I just held onto her hand for a minute and thanked her. Why did I get such a sense of the widow Jesus spoke of and her two copper coins? I obviously have no idea of her financial situation...but I gathered she may have emptied her wallet for Eve's Daughters' benefit.

She gave us five singles. And Cathy and I are going to get a special mat and frame them like they do at the restaurants. Our first donation! Now we just need some office space...

God is Good

2009-05-09T18:01:00.000-07:00

Well it's official! Eve's Daughters is now a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt non-profit! We filed the paperwork with the IRS four weeks ago and received the determination letter in the mail today - the day before Mother's Day! (A miracle to be sure! The IRS website says they are experiencing a 90-day delay in processing paperwork for tax-exempt status! Which is typically a 6-12 week process to begin with!) What a fabulous Mother's Day present...the start of blessings for single mom's in the Portland Metro area...(and beyond??)

Somehow it seems official now...like we are grown up and real! Let the real work can begin...so much to do...what's next...

The journey continues. I wonder who might be the first to donate to our cause? It's tax deductible! Want to join us on the ride?

PS- Happy Mother's Day! This is a good one...

Humpty Dumpty

2009-05-06T20:16:00.000-07:00

I have had a great fall…and I am broken into a million little pieces…

I have been walking the narrow wall of teenage parenting…and today I fell. Fell victim to the biggest lie…my kids will appreciate everything I do for them and act accordingly. They will drop at my feet and worship my sacrifices, give me loving praise, and to show me their devotion…will do the dishes, clean up their room, and give me a kiss on the cheek before brushing their teeth and going to bed.

I fell victim to wanting approval from my kids…for all that I have done…for all the love I have given them…for the trade-offs made to make their lives the best I can. It was an honest mistake, a human one…I needed love…I needed someone to care…I needed someone with skin to tell me I am okay…to appreciate me.

So here I sit, broken in tiny pieces and too exhausted to put humpty dumpty back together again. Where can I turn? The answer is back to the One that I turned to in 1996 when I first realized how broken I was. Back to God…the one that saves me from myself.

It sounds all too sweet…too cliché. But it is real. God is the only one that will save me. Will love me the way I should be loved…will appreciate me for the person He made me to be when He conceived of me. Only, He isn’t here…in the physical sense that is. He can’t back me up with the kids, hold me when I am falling to pieces, or discipline the kids when I have holed up in the back of my dark closet…

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again…but God can. Funny…after all the times He has come with the super glue…He keeps coming...patiently, lovingly putting me back together again…when I am too exhausted to manage it myself…when I am too busy buying the lies.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Brain

2009-04-26T15:25:00.000-07:00

So many of my sistahs--accomplished women of my age--have complained lately their propensity towards brainlessness. Is it our age? Circumstances? Hormonal imbalances? All I can say is it seems we'd all somehow agreed to share a brain, passing it around before we're really ready to, you know, like when we still could be using it. Mind you, I am privileged to hang with a really talented group of women, so we are all terribly chagrined about this sudden scourge of intelligence.

I regularly sit in my office, rolling my eyes toward the ceiling, trying to capture a word I'm thinking of...begins with a p...p p pppppa. This wouldn't be so bad if I weren't a writer. And when the other thoughts fly in--need dental floss, E's evening performance, sugar-free chocolate?--I take dictation on my little lime green Post-It pad: A life in stickies.

My daughter finds this hysterical--the notes stuck to the coffee pot, the calendar, the mirror. I glare at her and say I didn't used to be this way, before I was a mom. I used to have a life, a fully firing brain and goals. Not anymore. And it's been a bittersweet adjustment.

What I am realizing, however, is that it's all a trade off. I had my daughter at 34, and what I traded in energy from my 20s I (hopefully) made up for in patience and common sense. I am realizing that my calling to do Eve's Daughters, and to raise my own daughter well, necessitated that I lose some of my previous efficiency. It's requiring a transparency, a realness, a humility I didn't use to have. I had lose some of my polish to earn a different kind of glow, if you know what I mean--the kind that comes from recognizing that we're indeed growing older but perhaps deeper and more beautiful, less afraid and rigid. It impacts our work, our relationships and our mothering, but I find I have less to prove these days, and that, in itself, is pretty freeing.

How has your parenting changed as you've aged?

Sacrifices

2009-04-17T13:55:00.000-07:00

As moms we make sacrifices daily. We do for our kids what we are wired to do, regardless of its common sense. It’s just what we do.

I am sick. I have been all week. I want to believe that it is a cold, I have been told it is an allergy…to a cat…my daughter’s cat…the one we bought to help her over a very traumatic time in her life. Now what?

My sister said it may be time to get rid of the cat…no…we can’t. My daughter needs the cat. I need her to have the cat. So I sacrifice. I head out for treatment, because that is what we moms do. We fix things. As is often the case, we fix us. Because we can control that…because we want our kids to be ok.

I am guessing that it is the same for all moms. But from my perspective as a single mom, we are really sensitive about our kids being okay, because we hear about how messed up they are going to be because they come from single parent homes. I will never forget the time I walked out of church, front row, with my kids and their friends because the pastor was telling the congregation the statistics of how messed up these poor single parented children are going to be when they grow up. My son looked at me and said, “Mom that isn’t going to be us”. Thanks Bubba, but I’m not so sure…you see I have a lot of guilt…our situation isn’t “normal”. Or so I’m told.

We want the best for our kids, and whether we were left or we did the leaving, we struggle to make things right…to make things “normal”. The 2000 Census says that 28% of homes with children under the age of 18 were heading by a single parent, of which 78% percent were headed by a female. So I guess that means that 28% is considered “abnormal” by many. I disagree.

So I sit here with barely a voice, runny nose, congested chest, and sore throat and wonder…how can I tell my body that it is wrong…it’s not an allergy…I’m a mom…we don’t do allergies to our children’s pets. How can I tell the world they are wrong? My “single mom” reaction to my allergy is most likely just how many “normal” moms living with a husband would react. We all make sacrifices…single moms and “normal” moms. It’s what we do…all of us moms.

Rental Grandmas

2009-03-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

I saw a piece on the local news tonight about Grannies for Rent. Seriously. Single, older women "adopted" kids of single moms. The older women don't have any family around, and the single moms don't have any grandparents handy. So, they spoil the kids rotten, spend holidays with them, develop relationships with the single parent family/extended family and do life together. Unfortunately, the story came over the wires from Poland. But they are so on to something over there...and it's exactly what we're hoping to do eventually with Eve's Daughters.

We recently lost a sweet sweet neighbor who was one of E's rental grandmas. It was especially hard because that kind of adoration--the kind with no strings attached--is beautiful and rare. I remembered my own grandmother who, by her own admission, made a better grandma than a mom. She was the one who took me to the Disney movie openings and to Big Boy for a hamburger afterwards. She was the one who told my mother (my MOTHER!) to lighten up when it came to being fashionable in the 1970s :) and the one who'd remind me that grades weren't the be all and end all.

Thing is, kids need this kind of attention and love, yet so few of us are near biological family these days...and sometimes, biological families aren't interested in that kind of relationship. But what about, for example, the youngish widow who has a lot of time and love and talent and chocolate chip cookies to give?

Cathy and I have been chewing on the notion of working with local senior populations as well, for this very reason. Tell us your thoughts: Is this something that would be a blessing to your family?

Garbage Strike

2009-03-09T21:18:00.000-07:00

Dear Single Mom,
You are loved. You are special. You are enough. I know that at times it seems like the road is forever long with no end in sight. I know that there are days when it would be such a relief to have someone, anyone, give you a hug…shed a tear or two with you…and then graciously take out the garbage and recycling. I know because I have been there and today is garbage day.

I’ve heard it said that “we all have our roles to play”. Why does the single mom have so many? I hate garbage day…it is irrational but I have done the single mom thing for over 14 years, and for 14 years I have hated Monday nights…garbage night. I resent the heck out of it! Each Monday night, when I drag the cans to the curb, I am reminded that I am on my own…with the garbage, and all the other things that come with being “alone” without a husband.

The question I ask myself…why do I do it...why do I hold onto the garbage? I have a 17-year old and a 14-year old – why can’t they do garbage day? Sometimes they do…if I bug…if I nag…if I cry…if I throw a fit. They are good kids, but they have no radar into garbage day…

Could it be that I am not good at asking for help? Could it be that I feel a bit guilty that my kids grew up in a single parent household? Am I trying to make up for the “normal” life they didn’t have? Society has such a way of labeling us single moms as misfits and our kids as future delinquents. Maybe I am buying into it. Maybe it is time to liberate myself…maybe it is time to turn over garbage day to the kids…to realize that I have done the best possible job that I can…that I am a darn GOOD mom…and that my kids are growing up okay and will make positive contributions to the world. No amount of garbage can take that away from me!

“KIDS, come take out the garbage…and don’t forget the recycling!”

All you single mom's out there...hang in there...and remember it isn't a weakness to go on garbage strike!

Twofers

2009-02-25T08:25:00.000-08:00

I have this recurring nightmare about not teaching my kid enough basic life skills because I'm too busy doing other stuff, like obsessing or laundry, and then she'll be living with me when she's 41 and I'm *mumblemumble* 70-something. I think this is a universal mom concern, not just single moms. We're all just some busy chicks.

So my ED biz partner, Cathy, made a suggestion many weeks ago about having my 10-year-old daughter take ownership of one dinner a week, which I thought was brilliant. I broached it with E and she was delighted, maybe mostly because I told her she didn't have to do dishes on those nights. But we're several weeks into it and I tell ya, the girl is hauling: we're mincing and sauteing and creating. We're planning ahead, and defrosting and shopping. But mostly we're talking and teaching and learning, and that's the wonderful thing.

For some reason this year, I've been especially cognizant of 1) being in a midlife crisis and feeling terribly old and 2) recognizing that time is going by at warp speed. The two, for me, go hand in hand, so it's been kind of sweet to spend this time together--it achors something for me, as much as teaching her to brush her teeth, get dressed on her own, ride a bike or do an algebra problem.

How have you combined the teaching/"being" times in your households? Please share your wisdom in the Comments section...and thanks!

Biting the Lie

2009-02-16T10:09:00.000-08:00

I bit it big-time yesterday. Presented with an over-the-top, publically presented, single mom success story of redemption and provision and relief, I bit the Big Lie (or at least one of the Top Ten Big Lies), which is that God loves other women better than me, because He's giving them an easier gig. In this story, people were practically tripping over themselves to help this single mom. She got almost everything she needed or wanted and then some. And a great new guy, too! I listened while holding my jaw in my lap and thought, "This is not my reality...or the reality of the single moms I know."

Truth is, the story was a set up. It was intended to look as good as possible. The problem with this, though, is it discounts and discourages the scads of other single parents who are doing the daily slog without the multiple blessings from heaven, without the fireworks. I call this Life in the Meantime (LITM), and it is the life I lead 99.9% of the time. It consists of 5th grade homework, milk shortages and medical lab results that suggest I have another something to deal with. It consists of working with other single moms--one who's going through the ringer, one who's doing better. The fabulous helpful spouse is apparently on back order. My toilets are dirty. I'm tired but managing.

LITM.

But I needed to remind myself, so I will do it here, for your benefit as well: LITM is holy work. It's honorable. It's not flashy or award-winning, but it's solid and necessary. It's my church, these days...the place where I show up, hoping to hang with God in and around the other stuff and other people who make me laugh, witness my tears and otherwise cheer me on. It's not neat, tidy or optimal, most days, but it's incredibly real and rich, in its own way.

I had to take some time, cry a little, talk to a friend, go for a walk with my girl and generally get back to basics to get past the lie. I don't want to cheapen my life, your life or what we're called to do on behalf of single parents by falling for the Good Life = God's Good Graces deal. Not to mention it cheapens God.

How much do you value LITM? What's your lie? And how do you come back to center?

Give a Little Bit

2009-01-23T10:10:00.000-08:00

Some of my more amazing single mom faith times have come when God mobilized someone just so when I needed it most, whether it was a timely phone call, a gift card, an opportunity. And you know how it is...You cry and sigh and blow your nose and think, "OK. Maybe I can do another day." The contact is life-giving on a cellular level.

So my brilliant beautiful friend Melinda just blew my doors off yesterday. You know how a simple idea can take on Einsteinian proportions? Please read her blog on Modus Operandi: +1, in which she describes living her daily life...plus one. That means one extra prayer, one extra lunch for someone who needs it, one extra meal, one extra note of encouragement. As moms, a normal battle cry is, "I'M DOING LAUNDRY...DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO PUT IN?" So +1 is along those lines, but bigger: If I'm doing something anyway...how can we stretch this out and help someone else?

I know I often feel overwhelmed, and then guilty, about not "serving" as much as I'd like to. There are a million worthy causes and only so many hours in the day. But Melinda's M.O. is so...streamlined! As a multi-tasking recovering-Type A kinda gal, I love that in a life-giving, life-changing call to action.

So, work with me here: What could you do to +1 in your normal routine? Choose a person to pray for? Donate a little extra? Check in on an elderly neighbor? I got to see one of my daughter's favorite teachers last night and learned she's expecting. I packed up a bunch of mom books for her this morning. Easy schmeezy fresh and cheesy, as we say in this house. A few moments and it was done on this end. Will Em's teacher review those books months (or years) from now and remember that they came at an exciting, wondering time?

Please think about this...and let us know how you're +1-ing it at your house, in your community, in your heart's prayers. Because you have to know: this is one of those things that goes exponential. And that, my friends, is what it's all about.

Accepting grace

2009-01-14T08:56:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I get the grace reminder from a friend. Today I shared my thoughts with my two faith buddies on a daily devotional I received from Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life, http://www.saddlebackresources.com/en-US/PurposeDrivenLife/FreeResources/TodaysDevotional?a=2787&z=1.

“When we don’t believe God is determined to love us perfectly, we end up living like our best choice is to take care of ourselves. And then, we become so busy taking care of ourselves that we have little time for authentic, transparent, loving community with others.”

I related how I felt I was living that way right now. I am so involved in solving the crises in my own life that I feel I am neglecting my friends and family. Why can't I do it all? I so easily take on the role of God in my own life…I must take care of everything myself. Part of it is a control thing, and part of it is that I have a hard time believing that God really wants to love me...help me.

Then of course, God surfaces in the words of one of my buddies. She pointed out that, “Being in ‘community’ doesn’t necessarily mean that Cathy has to give to others, it could mean that Cathy gets to let others love her!”

My expectations for myself are different than my friend's expectations for me. She cuts me slack...grace. What a concept. I am so used to giving, that I forget (and frankly feel uncomfortable) about letting others help me. I think it is one of the curses of being a single mom. Afterall, I am alone, it is just me. It is my job to take care of everything. I forget that friends and family are there to help me. I forget how to let them in, how to accept help, and how to let them love me.

This single mom thing is a two-way street. We need people to be a blessing in our life, but we also need to be able to accept the blessing. I need to remember it isn’t a sign of weakness. Letting others in is a sign of healthy community…give and take…it takes both. Aaahh, I am still uncomfortable…

Girly Man

2009-01-11T19:36:00.000-08:00

During our recent storm here, I found myself a little anxious. This is a regular occurrence that I experience (and have heard from other single moms) when things are out of the norm...meaning power outages, snowdrifts, freezing temps, floods, (probably) locusts, etc., put us a little on edge. I find myself hypervigilant during these times, feeling like I especially need to protect my daughter from the elements, make sure I keep the household going inside and out, have emergency supplies, etc. It's just little old me against a whole bunch of bad possibilities.

Some people watch the snow fall, lazily nursing a hot toddy or peppermint chocolate: I spend my time looking furtively with an eye tic, thinking of the million ways we could die.

So during our severe weatherage, I had a pipe burst outside and, in the subsequent Three Stooges-esque scramble to get the water main turned off, among other concerns, I came to the conclusion that I make a lousy guy. I didn't know what I was doing and I was overwhelmed and, frankly, all the guys I know would not have started bawling in frustration as I did after one thing tripped another and another and another.

This is the kind of stuff that makes me feel especially alone, even though my ex was the kind of guy who would have just said, "Call a plumber." There is something to be said for having another adult in the area to which you could comment, "Doesn't this just suck?" And he'd say, "It sure does suck." And you both could eyeball the damage together and agree on the suckitude of the situation.

So...Cathy wrote about our looking to get that safety net established and firmly entrenched for ED. I am piggybacking on her blog entry here simply because my plumbing story is so incredibly common. And it's not just plumbing we're interested in--We're looking to share knowledge across the board. I'm a firm believer that we all have something valuable to share...it's just a matter of organization. It's the old adage of teaching a man to fish--do we solve an immediate crisis, or do we also instruct on how to prevent or fix something for the long-term? My vote is for both. There is a lot to be said for instructing and encouraging single moms on a number of fronts, from changing a tire to bleeding a pipe, from stopping a leak to starting a class. While we all may remain girly men, in the nicest sense of the term, we also become stronger women and moms who get that graceful balance of asking for help and showing our kids what we're made of.

What knowledge do you have to share?

Moving forward

2009-01-07T15:24:00.000-08:00

The kids are back to school and life returns to normal…whatever normal is. This week my biz partner and I got together to discuss our efforts (or stalled efforts) with respect to Eve’s Daughters. We quickly came to the place of “we haven’t done enough, we aren’t moving fast enough, and do you think God is mad at us?” Despite all I read about God and how much He loves us/me, I still end up flogging myself.

This time I remembered my resolution about showing some grace in 2009. So instead of tar and feathering my partner and me, I asked a simple question, “Could it be that we did as much as we could humanly do in 2008? Given all that is going on in our lives could it be that just maybe God felt we made progress?”

I heard a loud and clear… “YES!” Of course we would like to be farther along…we would like to be fully up and running…we would like to be able to help all single moms the way we envision it happening…but it takes time, and God remembers that we are still single moms as well. So I am listening to God, I am taking it easy on myself, and I am showing myself some grace.

This doesn’t mean I am slacking off…it means taking one day at a time and making realistic goals for 2009. Last year we began spreading the word about Eve’s Daughters and we started getting a lot of requests for different types of resources. So this year along with submitting our paperwork for our 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status, we are focused on developing a strong network of people and organizations to help single moms.

If you or someone you know can help us with our network of resources let us know. We are looking for all kinds of people and services…plumbers, lawyers, caretakers, auto mechanics, gardeners, handypersons, career counselors, accountants, and people with an open ear and strong shoulder to cry on…to name a few. We would love to connect moms to discounted services and products where applicable. The number one thing we hear from single moms is how alone they feel in facing the daunting task of juggling motherhood, career, and “home” responsibilities. We want to help by tapping into existing resources and creating new ones where none exist.

Let us know if you would like to join our network…or if you know of a resource that is already in existence…don’t assume we know about them all. Please help us help the modern-day widows and orphans.

Grace for the New Year

2008-12-29T16:12:00.000-08:00

Why is it that every year about this time I start feeling as if I failed…didn’t get enough done...didn’t help enough people…didn’t make enough money…didn’t parent my children perfectly…didn’t write enough blog entries…

As 2009 approaches I am trying to figure out what is realistic…how should I measure my success as a single mom, daughter, sister, friend, employee/business owner…what should my New Year’s resolutions be?

What’s realistic for a single mom to expect of herself? Is it enough to get up in the morning, get showered and dressed; get the kids ready for school, make their lunch, feed them breakfast, and feed the animals; take the kids to school; run home to find the forgotten homework and drop it back at school; go to work and try and get something accomplished; take one child to the doctor, one child to the orthodontist, and one dog to the vet; run to the grocery store before heading to the day’s sports events to cheer on the kids; race home to make dinner, start a load of laundry and help with the homework; tuck the kids into bed, do the dishes, take out the garbage, clean the toilet and pay the bills…

Is the everyday enough? How can we add the car maintenance, home/yard maintenance, keeping up with friends and family, volunteer work, exercise, and quiet time with God? If we take a break, who picks up the slack? How do I add another resolution to what is already a 25-hour day?

I have been doing the single mom thing for 14 years…and I still haven’t figured out how to get it all done. It is easier now that my kids are 17 and 14…but it is still tough. Time that I gained from the kids helping out around the house is now spent trying to figure them out…life has gone from a physical stretch to a mental stretch. Case in point…

My daughter’s room is a pig sty. It is horrible. We signed a contract that said if I let her get a cat she would keep her room clean. We signed the contract because I didn’t want to fight about her room. Any idea what court of law enforces the broken “clean room” contract? I am in the dog house…I told her she couldn’t go to the movies until her room was cleaned up…she missed the movie. So guess what she is doing right now? Ignoring her room and giving me the evil eye!! I am wishing I had a spouse to back me up…to be the bad guy…to lay down the law…to enforce the contract.

So here I am, pondering New Year’s resolutions when my daughter’s room is a mess, when I can’t manage to enforce “the contract”, and when I am behind on laundry, bills, housecleaning, etc. Can I really expect more of myself? Can I really make another resolution that I won’t keep?

Instead of asking more of myself…I am going to practice a little grace…I am going to give myself permission to do the best I can. My 2009 New Year’s resolution is to show myself grace when everything is piling up. I commit to blog about the little moments of grace that I find in 2009. Some may be short and sweet, and some may be longer lessons…but I promise to look for them while living the life of a single mom…want to join me?

Wistmastime is Here

2008-12-04T09:37:00.000-08:00

I always get a little wistful/weepy/whelmed at this time of year. Part of it is how I'm wired, and part of it is that it's just too much: too much to do, see, eat, buy, wrap, spend, plan. What should be repeatedly bumps up against what is. While I've made my peace with the fact that life is not like a Hallmark commercial, I do often long for the calm that is depicted (or manufactured, as the case may be)--happy kids, toasty fire, darling retriever.

Single moms can feel stretched even thinner than usual this time of year, not to mention stressed over commitments, finances, their kids' well-being, etc. For many years, I fell into a bad pattern of trying to really whip things into a froth for my daughter, so as to mitigate the fact that her parents were divorced. While I couldn't pull it off financially speaking (simply because we didn't have it), I did try really hard to "make some Christmas magic" on numerous occasions and, frankly, burned myself out: My wild activity added little to my daughter's well-being, and her lack of appreciation for my holiday gymnastics left me a tinge--how shall we say??--resentful.

I've learned to scale back--to lay out my mind's plans (usually terribly unrealistic) and cut them by about two-thirds. I push myself to call friends, especially other single moms, when I'm feeling lonely and loser-like for not pulling off the Traditional American Holidays (As Seen On TV). I ask myself regularly (like I did my daughter when she was young) Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired? and then--what a concept!!--I try to take care of those basic needs. It's astounding how much more doable life becomes with a little protein and a 20-minute nap.

There's much we can do to make the season easier...the bulk of which happens inside us. How have you learned to de-stress the holidays?

Sun breaks

2008-11-26T08:50:00.000-08:00

How can I be thankful when it seems the world is crashing in?

It has been a rough two months at my house. It feels like just as I adjust to the latest crisis another one is in the wings…kind of like the rain storms that line up off the Oregon Coast to keep Portland in the dark, dreary, rain-filled days of winter. The storms come one after another, with maybe a brief sun break in between the onslaught.

My task these days is to focus on the sun breaks. It is so easy to fall into the trap of looking at the crumbling economy, newly identified health concerns, ongoing parenting challenges, and inconsistent work contracts. But instead, on the eve of Thanksgiving…I need to remember the sun…the Son. I think sometimes all we get is a sun break; a brief moment of respite, a brief moment of hope in an otherwise dreary season of life. It is the hope that is important to remember today.

Karen and I often debate how much to include God in our blog. After all, Eve’s Daughters is meant for all single moms regardless of their faith. As much as I struggle with it, I can’t take God out of it. It isn’t possible. For me, God is the reason I keep going. I am committed to helping all single moms, and the only way I know how is to share my hope. Until God came into my life, being a single mom was one storm after another…no break in the deluge. Then I started asking questions about God…and one day there was a sun break, and then another.

So in the middle of my current string of storms, I am guessing (because I can’t really see through the fog to the end of the path) that God is preparing me for helping other single moms. How else can I understand if I haven’t experienced it? Now, I must admit, I was really hoping that I had done my time. It looks like there are more lessons, more experiences, more challenges. So I must focus…focus on the sun breaks.

Today I am thankful…

for my life…I am living
for my kids…they are smiling
for my family…they are my support
for my friends…they listen
for my home…it is warm and cozy
for my God…He gives me sun breaks

One

2008-11-14T11:34:00.000-08:00

My daughter is at that age where more is always better. More friends. More attention. More doodads. More colors. Choices. Options. Chocolates.

More.

We've had many discussions, now that we've stuck a toe into The Drama Years, about how lucky we are to have one good friend--one who builds up instead of tears down, one who listens, one who's trustworthy, one who's got our back. Maybe even one more than we deserve.

My daughter listens, but I think she secretly believes that more is still better. She wants to know about this popularity thing. I need to let her figure that out while waiting patiently nearby.

Recently, when I was going through a really tough time, I asked a very wise person in my life how in the world I would make it through. He said one:

One friend.
One cheerleader.
One timely phone call.
One dose of comfort food.
One Kleenex passed.
One laugh, black or otherwise.
One walk.
One nap.
One...

As single moms, we've got a lot going on and, usually, we ourselves fall to the bottom of the list. But the old adage is not only true but wise: If you're going to pour into someone else, best to dip from a well that actually has water in it.

So...what's your one? What's the thing or person that helps keep you going, that opens the earth so your well recharges again?

Helping the single mom

2008-11-11T13:37:00.000-08:00

What is it to be the parent of a teenager? It is to do what you think best – when really you have no idea what is best. It is to ride out the storms and be back again the next day. It is to give love to a child who does not seem to want it, to a child who five minutes ago seemed to deserve a punch more than anything else. – Anthony E. Wolf, Ph.D, “Get Out of My Life...but first could you drive me and Cheryl to the mall?”

I remember when the kids were younger and friends and relatives told me to enjoy the early years…because it was going to get harder. It does get harder, but in a weird sort of way. It isn’t so much the physical exhaustion as it is the mental exhaustion.

I tend to second guess myself a lot, and it doesn’t help that I don’t have a spouse to help focus me and make decisions. Outside of taking the garbage out and dealing with the car maintenance, help making decisions is the biggest thing I miss about not having a loving spouse. When the kids were younger, I liked the autonomy, the decisions were easier. I felt a bit more in control, or should I say it seemed easier to gain control. Now…I am constantly asking myself if I am saying the right things, doing the right things, or making the right decisions. I need help.

I think decision making is one of the hardest parts of being a parent, let alone a single parent. When I talk to other single moms, decision making is always a big concern. “How do I make a good decision when I don’t have a partner to bounce my thoughts off of?” Ultimately, the responsibility is mine and mine alone. There is no one to pass the buck to…it is up to me. When they were younger it was easier, they weren’t as saavy and I could more easily justify my position…”Because I am the mother and I said so”. That same argument doesn’t work with a 14-year old or 17-year old.

Now that my son has turned 17 (it seems so much older than 16), I wonder if I did an okay job. Did I instill the right values? Did I focus enough on God? Did I love him enough? Did I discipline him enough? Being a single parent is a lonely job. In the workplace I know how to get feedback to determine whether or not I am successful. As a parent, I thought I would get it from my husband. Without a husband, where do I get the feedback? Family?... friends?...sometimes. But they have busy lives and are trying to answer the same questions for their own children.

Being there for other single moms as they wrestle with decision making is one of the big reasons that I think Eve’s Daughters is so important. Single moms need reinforcement, they need support, and they need to be heard. Karen and I struggle with the idea of “just being there”. Is it enough? Of course, we want to offer other services as well…spa days, parenting classes, career skills, resources when needed, connections to other single moms, and hopefully a deeper understanding of how walking a life of faith can make the entire journey better…not perfect, just better.

Single moms are parenting kids of all ages, with all kinds of challenges, and with varying levels of support. The dilemmas change depending on the day. The only given is that the journey will be bumpy. What do you need to help you along the way? We need to hear from you…let us know your thoughts. How can we support you? If you aren’t a single mom, but you walk alongside a single mom, what is her greatest challenge? How do you think we can help moms take care of themselves so they can take care of their kids? We look forward to hearing from you.

He is enough...

2008-11-04T22:08:00.000-08:00

Before I became a Christian I was pretty judgmental about the "Jesus freaks", as I used to call them. In fact, I vowed to never fall in with such a narrow-minded group of people that preached Bible verses and used big words to describe their holy walk with God. Somehow it just didn't seem real. I remember when someone in the church told me I was going through the “sanctification” process. I left thinking God was turning me into a saint! Like Mother Theresa! REALLY!

Nowadays I don’t do much better with the “jargon”, but find myself guilty of using it every now and then. It becomes habit. I am in a place some would call the “refiner’s fire”. I don’t like it (and frankly I am not overly enthused about the name “refiner’s fire” either). Just call it for what it is, a time of rotten events/crises meant to change us into better people. I want to get myself out of the fire…now! Yet, I know this is the best thing for me, right? Doesn’t God work all things for good according to His purpose?

Sometimes it is hard to have faith, hard to persevere. For me, it is hard to trust. I don’t like surprises and I prefer to have a plan to follow, in that respect I am very much like my biz partner. Let me ride shotgun high above the path in a blimp, versus down below in a beat up mini behind a giant semi.

Life is throwing me some curves. I am facing the biggest challenge I have had as a single mom and I am “forced” to turn it all over to God, forced to surrender. The crisis is too big. I am not strong enough. I don’t know when the curves will come and whether I will maneuver them well. I question if my family will end up “okay”, and I certainly don’t know if I can withstand the pain. It seems like I have been to this place before. Yes…fourteen years ago I visited this place, and many times since.

Then I didn’t have a faith, didn’t have a God. I was on my own, in control, and suicidal. It took me two years to fall on my knees in desperation, screaming for someone to save me. I didn’t know then that I was in the fire…that God was working all things for good…in order to bring me home to Him. During that time I never would admit that He had my back, heck I wouldn’t even admit He was in control. Funny, God takes you through it, even if you have no interest in experiencing it! During that time I came to Christ. Since that time I have been learning, growing, and often rebelling.

If I am truly honest, I can say that God has always been there for me. Maybe not with the answers I wanted, but he has always been there. It is during times like these that I need to remember the past, remember that I got through the trial, and remember that I am who I am because of my experiences.

This morning I was taking my son to school (he is grounded from his car) and on the way home Ginny Owens was on the radio singing “Be Still My Soul”. As I heard the lyrics, the tears began. Why is it so hard to be still? Why is it so hard to rest in God? I listened to the song and lifted my heart, and with it my problems, to God.

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
leave to your God to order and provide;
in every change God faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: your best, your heavenly friend
through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
to guide the future, as in ages past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
all now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
the Christ who ruled them while he dwelt below

I don’t have the answers. I don’t understand the mystery. I don’t understand why this path or where this path is leading. I do know that my God will be with me every step of the way and He has a purpose in mind. On a day like today that is comforting, even if the pain remains. On a day like today…He is enough.

Realistic Hope

2008-10-29T15:32:00.000-07:00

Then at last we see what hope is and where it comes from, hope as the driving power and outermost edge of faith. Hope stands up to its knees in the past and keeps its eyes on the future.—Frederick Buechner, “A Room Called
Remember”
At Eve’s Daughters, we love the phrase “realistic hope.” I know when I first divorced, I sure wished someone would wave his or her magic wand and fix everything, and most certainly I expected it from God because, you know, He just wants us to be happy… But as time went by, and I continued to experience problems and solve certain challenges and get even deeper conundrums, I felt like a kid playing that Whack-a-Gopher game: One goes down, two pop up. And I despaired. A lot.

Now, with a few more miles under my belt, I’m feeling a little more realistic about life. But realistic can be a real downer, because we know all too well how real things can really get. So where’s the balance?

I had a great opportunity today, to just sit and listen to a single mom. We were thrown together inadvertently (if you believe that such things are inadvertent) and have since become friends. The greater gift came early in the morning, while it was still so dark that you’re not sure it will ever be light again. I’d asked to be encouraging, because I often feel lame in that department. I got a Scripture reference, wrote it down on a purple Post-It and stuck it in my purse. At the end of our discussion today, I pulled it out and asked, “Does this mean anything to you?” Well. Of course. It was timely and precious and pertinent in a way I could not manufacture. I gave her a hug and told her to put it on her bathroom mirror. She laughed and said she was going to stick it to her forehead and have everyone read it back to her.

I had a great laugh today, with another single mom—a great big black laugh, one that comes in and around tears. It had to do with the aloneness of being a single parent, and how, when one is sick or injured and seemingly approaching death, it seems the entire world has forgotten you. Until the nasty decomposing vapors start to waft. Who might notice? The children? When their laundry remains undone? Or the neighbors? Whom we do not know well because we’re running all the time? It was a bad good laugh, so dark and purging that you strangely feel a little lighter afterwards.

I had a great crisis today with someone I love, because it seems the house of cards just got flicked, and something that has now been done cannot be undone.

And now, with the day not even close to done, it does kinda feel like I’m up to my knees. This day truly is very similar to my others—some good, some bad, some wrenching, some status quo. Today the heartache gopher raised its pointy little head, but, for example, the childrearing and financial drama gophers are still snug in their holes. For now. But for some reason I don’t feel as yanked around as I usually do. I feel human, to be sure, but not the need to try and be superhuman. I feel brokenhearted, but thankful. Tired, but energized. Alone, but not so. And I believe that—wading through, eyes on horizon, tiredly rejoicing—is realistic hope.

Getting Real

2008-10-27T00:36:00.000-07:00

I have been waiting…waiting for the right time…waiting until I could be the role model I need to be…waiting until I was the perfect mom…and I am still waiting.

I have procrastinated…I have held off on launching Eve’s Daughters. Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought I needed to be through the ups and downs of single parenting…I needed to be in a place of relative calm so that I could help other single moms. Tonight I realize…that calm isn’t going to come. Not the calm I want…the human calm… the “all is well with the world” calm.

The last few weeks have been tough. My teenage son made a mistake. A mistake that has stopped me in my tracks and made me doubt my parenting skills, and brought me back to the same ‘ole question, “am I qualified to start a non-profit for single moms?” How can I possibly be a support to other single moms when I can’t seem to “control” what is going on in my own household, when I keep experiencing “mini” crises?

Karen and I have spent countless hours trying to “perfect” our mission statement. From the beginning we felt that Eve’s Daughters needed to be authentic, needed to reflect the realness of walking with God. So our “working” mission has been “living out the wild love of Christ by walking alongside single moms in crisis”. I have been asking God to reveal what that looks like.

Could it be that “living out the wild love of Christ” means serving single moms despite the fact that my life isn’t perfect, that my children make mistakes, that I make mistakes? Is part of God’s plan that I be vulnerable…and walk the same walk that other single moms are walking…while building my foundation on Christ? Is it as simple as being real, being imperfect, experiencing trials, and all the while loving Christ?

Christ’s love is wild. It is filled with peaks and valleys, with trials and obstacles, and with seemingly illogical paths. But at the foundation, Christ’s love is certain. He is a rock…always there…he will never leave us…no matter what we do. He loves us in spite of our warts, in spite of our inadequacies. He loves us enough to give us opportunities to grow. He loves us enough to experience storms. He loves us enough to let us fail.

The wild love of Christ doesn’t guarantee us calm, doesn’t mean a life without obstacles, and surely doesn’t mean we won’t experience pain. It does mean that when the storm is raging all around us, when we can’t see two feet in front of us, that He is there ready to be our rock, ready to be our shelter.

God wants us to get started. God wants us to step out in faith so that He can use us, in all our inadequacies as parents, to support other women as they go through the single parent journey. He wants us to be his hands and feet, his shoulder to cry on, his ear to listen.

The waiting is over…it’s time to get real

Putting the Pieces Together

2008-10-23T08:47:00.000-07:00

My biz partner, Cathy (below), loves doing puzzles; I am spatially stunted.
She focuses on the destination; I only see the next mile marker.
She is comfortable with the 30,000-foot view; I’m scrambling for a detailed road map.

How in the world are we going to hatch a nonprofit?

I find it interesting that we’ve been put together for this venture in that our strengths, weaknesses and hearts are in such different locales. But I’m also becoming more aware of what I’ve learned is a supernatural growth process. It truly is otherworldly—not defined by the standards we can see. It’s confusing, messy, liberating, exciting and exhausting all at once. And it’s almost always unexplainable until you get to the other side of it, until the full picture starts coming into view.

I confess that earlier in life, when I was still single and child-free, I was rather judgmental of women who complained about how hard single parenting was. It was along the lines of, “You should’ve thought of that before, hon.” And now, I find myself in a place I never wanted to be, doing what I never wanted to do, and finding my heart broken for others in similar situations.

I could not have visualized this for myself.

Of course I planned on happily-ever-after. Of course the choice to divorce created fallout, both positive and negative, that I couldn’t have foreseen. But just as in a puzzle, when you finally get some pieces to fit and say, “Oh! It’s an apple, not a fire plug,” your vision can shift toward something that didn’t exist before, making it more real than you knew.

I’ve been a single parent for seven of my daughter’s ten years. We’ve slogged through illnesses, work challenges, parenting conundrums, money shortages, legal battles, loneliness and regular, boring life stuff. At every turn, I realize now, I’ve received another piece of the puzzle: Some hard-won lessons are the equivalent of a corner piece—an anchor securely gained. Others are blurry insiders—parts that make no sense at the moment, parts that need to be put aside for a bit before they fit.

Both are needed. Both are valid. But I believe more and more that ours is a God who hides the box top. And, paradoxically, that can benefit us, stretching our sights beyond what we could imagine.

So as Cathy and I sift through the pieces, some eerily familiar to us both while others are unique, we gain a better understanding of single parenthood—the crazy challenges and the crazier rewards. And it’s our sincere hope that, in spite of our individual visions, we’ll create a full spectrum of services and tools for single moms who’d kind of like to be working alongside others at the card table—laughing together at the darker commonalities, and encouraging others to put a particularly ornery piece aside until its meaning starts coming into view.

Here we go...

2008-10-21T19:01:00.000-07:00

I don’t think of myself as a writer. My mom does. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, my mom believed in me. She is my hero. She is what I strive to be.

My mom was there when I became a single mom. She was holding my 7-month old daughter and I was holding my 3-year old son when my husband decided he didn’t want to be married anymore and walked out the front door. She was with me when my life changed forever.

That was 14 years ago. Today I am a single mom of an almost 17-year old and a 14-year old. I have survived the infant, toddler, elementary, and pre-adolescent years and I am holding my own through the teen years. My time as a single mom has been a journey of ups and downs, good and bad, and exhaustion and more exhaustion.
It has been kind of like a rollercoaster full of twists and turns – one minute in control, climbing the mountain, and the next careening downwards in a spiral towards the miry pit.

My journey has led me to the doorstep of Eve’s Daughters. On the good days, I like to think that Eve’s Daughters is God’s dream and that Karen (my partner) and I are lucky enough to be part of the plan. On the not so good days, I am wondering, why this road, and am I capable?

Just like in the Chronicles of Narnia… we stand at the wardrobe, waiting to take a step into a world to be explored and known. I don’t know what we are going to find or what Eve’s Daughters will become. In concept Eve’s Daughters is a non-profit created to live out the wild love of Christ while supporting single moms as they walk the sometimes lonely, demanding road of parenthood. What that path looks like and where the road takes us, is a work in progress. I try and rest in the knowledge that God knows where the road is heading…

So, here we go…we step out in faith. I hope my mom is right, and I am a writer of sorts. I hope that Eve’s Daughters becomes a place where single moms feel validated. I hope that God picked the right person and that I am ready for the journey …