That’s really the only way to describe what I turned into on that
windy and rainy Halloween Night . . .

The entire evening was planned out.
Each hour accounted for on my trusty index card.
Salad made . . . beer and wine bought . . . candy ready . . . pumpkins lit . . . 11 year old mummy wrapped . . . trick or treat in our neighborhood . . . drop off 13 year old . . . dinner at our friends house . . . 11 year old meet up with friends . . . more trick or treating . . . come home . . . bed.

Yup, I got this.
Halloween Night was all set.
Scheduled, organized, and all wrapped up like a perfect mummy.

Until it began to unravel . . . and “mom from hell” emerged.

No one was to blame.
It just happened.
One thing after another . . . unraveling . . .

We were rushed {wrapping a mummy takes a hell of a lot longer than you may think!}
There was 13 year old drama {yup, even boys have drama}
Our doorbell kept ringing {duh, it was Halloween}
There was more 13 year old drama {he couldn’t make a decision to save his life}!
It was now past 5:30 {the time we were to meet our neighbors to trick or treat}.
My 13 year old was now crying.
My 11 year old couldn’t breathe because his mummy wrap was too damn tight.
And I began to yell.

Nowadays, yelling is rare for me {I am proud to say}.
But when I do start, it’s hard for me to stop . . .

So “mom from hell” just kept yelling.
My 13 year old yelled back and then kept crying.
My 11 year old attempted to stay quiet in the corner of our kitchen, while trying to catch his breath.
Our doorbell kept ringing.
I started to sweat.
My 13 year old got a stomachache.
I got a stomachache.
And I just kept on yelling . . .

I knew I needed to get myself under control.
I knew none of this was really a big deal.
I knew my boys were looking to me to calm down and make it all better.
But I couldn’t . . .

I was pissed!

I was pissed that our Halloween Night wasn’t going according to the plan I had written down on my trusty index card.
I was pissed that my 13 year old couldn’t make a decision, and pulled me into his business.
I was pissed that we were behind schedule and making other people wait for us.
I was pissed that it was taking this long to wrap a mummy.
I was pissed that my body was betraying me, and making me feel like crap.

Somehow . . .
We eventually got out the door.

We trick or treated with our neighbors.
My 13 year old finally made his decision.
My 11 year old was rewrapped {and this time pinned} for the third time.
The boys met up with their friends.
Candy was scored, sorted, and traded.
Wine was drunk {by me}.
And Halloween Night was saved!

The thing is, even though Halloween Night was saved . . .
I still felt like the “mom from hell.”
I was ashamed, embarrassed, and shocked that I let myself get so out of control.

On the other hand . . . my boys were totally over it.
They came home with flushed cheeks, full bags of candy, and “the good kind of” stomachaches.

. . . it was me who couldn’t get over it.

So at bedtime, when I crawled into bed with my 11 year old . . . still feeling like the “mom from hell” . . . I took a deep breath and apologized.

And you know what my wise 11 year old mummy had to say . . .
“Mom . . . don’t beat yourself up about it . . . it’s over . . . let it go.”

And you know what my 13 year old said when I apologized and cuddled with him . . .
“It happens to the best of us, Mom.”

True that.

So I got over it.
I let it go.
Shit happens.
Even to the best of us.

I truly stopped beating myself up about it . . . and that set me free.

What do you need to let go of . . . to set yourself free?

I like to be in control.
I thrive on routine and I am in love with my lists.
I am an expert at organizing all the emails, paperwork, schedules, phone calls, and “to do’s” that come into our home.
I am the queen of controlling chaos created by a busy family of four, and proud of it!

Some may call me a “control freak” . . . yup . . . I am letting that freak flag fly, and I’m ok with it.
Being in control makes me a better person.
I am balanced.
I am relaxed.
I am grounded.
I am happy.

I truly believe it’s ok to strive for “control” in your life.
It’s not a dirty word.
Feeling in control {whatever that looks like for you} works for many of us!

BUT

What doesn’t work . . . is when we FEAR being out of control.

Recently, “life” decided I needed my “control freakiness” toned down a bit, reminding me that no matter how many lists I have or how organized my calendar is . . . life still gets messy.

As in, a 13 year old son with an 8 inch gash in his thigh from a bike accident, requiring 41 stitches . . . now that’s messy!

Poof . . . my control vanishes!!

I had to let go . . . immediately.
I had to trust the ER to control his care.
I had to trust the PA to control his suturing.
I had to trust the antibiotics to control his infection.
I had to trust my son’s body to control his healing.

It wasn’t easy and I didn’t like how it felt . . .

unsettling
scary
ungrounded
tiring
blurry

So I ignored these feelings while I attempted to rewrite my lists, organize my piles, control my surroundings, and care for my son.
I just wanted to be back “in control” dammit!
It didn’t work.

Ignoring the emotions that were coming up just left me grumpy and unfocused.
Running from my fear, my fear of feeling out of control was NOT helping me reclaim my control . . . it was pushing it farther away!

So I invited blurry and scary in for a visit.
I allowed tiring, unsettling, and ungrounded to sit with me at my kitchen counter for a bit.
I embraced my fear of feeling out of control, and when it was time . . .
I slammed the door in her face.
I let myself feel these emotions through to the other side . . . and I survived!

We all did!

The stitches are out.
No infection in sight.
The wound is healed.
The football jersey is back on.
The lists aren’t organized
The piles are still out of control . . . and my family of four is thriving!

What emotions are you running from?
What are you trying to ignore?

How about inviting those emotions in for a visit.
Welcome them into your life . . . allow yourself to get to know them.
Let your emotions know that you are not afraid of them anymore.
Feel them through . . . and then move into your beautiful life, thriving.

I refuse to push my “default” button.

“Today was a crazy, busy day!”
“This week is flying by.”
“The entire month has been a blur!”
“I can’t believe it’s almost June.”

Sound familiar?

Do you find yourself feeling this way ALL THE TIME?

Is it hard to even catch your breath before you are on to the next soccer practice, lacrosse game, school meeting, dance rehearsal, music lesson, work thing, then . . . homework, walk the dog, throw in a load of laundry, dinner, bath, bedtime . . . just to wake up and do it all over again the next damn day!

Does life just seem to pass you by?
Are you constantly playing “catch up” and never caught up?
Are you always in rush mode?
Do you feel like “Auto Pilot” is your go to setting?

So . . . how is this working for you and your family?
My hunch . . . not so well.

I truly believe we all have the best of intentions.
This “busyness” that surrounds us comes from a place of love, commitment, and dedication . . . but it just gets bigger and bolder and busier . . .

overwhelming
exhausting
crazy making

But lets face it . . . the busyness is not going away.
I get that. I am right there with you.

The thing is . . . you can choose how to live with the busyness.
Do you push your default button or not?
When you make the choice . . . you have the power.
The power to live the way you deserve even in the middle of all your busyness.

When I push my default button my life looks like this:

I am bored.
I just go through the motions.
I don’t “show up.”
I feel dull.
I am always grumpy.

So I ignore my default button . . . even though, at times it seems so much easier to push the damn thing.

Choosing NOT to push the default button is hard work, and that’s ok!
Choosing NOT to push the default button and living with intention takes a ton of patience and practice, and that’s ok.

I struggle with it every single day, and that’s ok!

When I choose NOT to push my default button, my life looks like this:

My 10 year old asks me to jump on the trampoline . . . I jump.
My 13 year old wants me to hang out with him . . . I scoot closer.
When I feel bitchy, I find time in my busyness and . . . I get my heart pumping.
My husband wants to connect . . . I sit on the porch with him.

My busyness is still there.
My calendar keeps filling up.
My lists get longer.
My mind is full.
But by choosing . . . even if it’s just for a few minutes{btw: it still counts} I have the power over how I am living.

Your choice: push the default button or not.
What do you choose?

I work hard every single day
as a mom . wife . life coach . writer . volunteer . friend . . .

I work damn hard.
And I am good at what I do.

I am also good at taking time for me.

Some may call this selfish . . . let them.
I love that word, and in my opinion,
we all need a little more selfishness in our lives!

The definition my handy dictionary app came up with for selfish:

adj – concerned chiefly or only with yourself and your advantage to the exclusion of others

is somewhat misleading and negative.

Here is MY way more positive, clear and beautiful definition of selfish:

Being good to yourself.
Taking time for you.
Making yourself top priority.
Embracing who you are.
Being your own biggest fan.
Believing in yourself.
Showing up to your life.
Buying yourself a new pair of shoes dammit!

Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

I love my life.
I am blessed.
I am not lucky, I am present.
I set my intentions.
I show up in my life.
I make it happen.
And . . . I am selfish.

This is what my selfish looks like:

I find time to exercise . . . this is a big one!
I love to meet my friends for coffee or lunch . . . my favorite.
I treat myself to a haircut, a manicure, a facial . . . and I feel good!
I say goodnight to my boys early, so I can climb into bed with my fav book.
I shop for beautiful things to add to my home or my wardrobe . . . a lot!
I treat myself to a green smoothie at my favorite health food store . . . sooo delish.

Sounds nice, huh?
But I won’t lie to you . . . there is a catch.
And my hunch is that many of you can relate.

Sometimes I have a lot of guilt around . . . being selfish!!!

Even though I did 15 loads of laundry, went to the market twice, worked with 2 clients, signed 5 permission slips, chauffeured my kids to their activities for 3 hours, paid the bills, walked the dog, cooked dinner, AND managed to find time to workout and shop for new couch pillows . . . guilt still grabs me, catches me off guard and hisses, “What do you mean you took time for yourself to workout and shop for pillows?”

Guilt finds a way in.
It creeps into my thoughts.
Wraps itself around me until I feel stuck.
Whispers in my ear, “Who do you think you are?” “Why are you so selfish?” “It’s not about you, it’s about your kids, your husband, your job, your commitments, your duties!”

I don’t like guilt
It’s needy
It’s ugly
It’s controlling

And most of the time, I kick guilt to the curb.
But sometimes, it gets the best of me.
And that’s ok.

I say hello.
I acknowledge his presence.
And then I turn around and walk the other way, done.

Guilt loves to make selfish feel dirty.
He wants you to think selfish is a “four letter” word.
Damn him!

But that doesn’t mean you can’t kick guilt to the curb.
Be a bit selfish every now and then.
It’s all good . . . I promise!

The thing is . . .
being selfish makes me a kick ass
mom . wife . life coach . friend

It gives me a chance to exhale and reset reset reset.
It sends me juicy love and clarity.
I feel crazy good and bounce around with green smoothie energy.
I conquer those damn mountains, or at least the mountain of laundry.
I am just plain ready. Bring it!

You can be kick ass too!

You just need to find your “selfish.”
What does it look like?

When you choose to be “selfish”
You will kick butt.
You will look smokin’.
You will rock this world.
You will live on the edge.
You will be totally true to you.

You DESERVE some selfishness in your life. Try it today.

AND

Repeat after me . . .

“Selfish” is NOT a dirty word!

NEVER thought I would say that.

My relationship with my thighs has always been rocky.

Even when my thighs were younger, I never liked them.

I didn’t like them in a swimsuit, pink ballet tights, a leotard, jeans, shorts, even my wedding dress and I STILL don’t like them . . .

They should be thinner.
They should look like everyone else’s.
They shouldn’t have so much cellulite.
They should just be better.

Not a fan of my thighs.

But I AM a fan of Beyonce . . . and the way she rocked her thighs during the Superbowl Halftime show has given me a new found respect for MY thighs.

BAM!

I am woman, here me roar with my rockin’ thighs! That’s all I could think of while watching Beyonce strutting around the stage . . .

big
beautiful
bold

I am not quite there yet, don’t think I will EVER put my thighs back in a leotard . . . but I am getting closer to rockin’ my thighs.

And this is how I am doing it . . .

EVERY single day I am sending my thighs love . . . or at least “like”.

Some days it’s a whole lotta love.
Other days it’s a struggle to find anything I even like about my damn thighs!

This is what it looks like . . .

“Thank you thighs, I’m impressed . . . you got me down that icy hill on my snowboard without letting me fall on my butt, and I actually had fun!”

“I love to dance, and you (thighs) have always been right there with me . . . that deserves some love.”

Yesterday I was grumpy and felt fat . . . I was so “done” by the end of the day, and just wanted to crawl into bed to watch Downton Abbey. . . hadn’t sent my thighs anything yet, so . . . “Thank you thighs for carrying me upstairs to my cozy bed!”

Your turn.

Think of a part of YOU that you have always had a rocky relationship with.
Send it some love and see what happens.

Instead of constantly hating your
thighs
stomach
butt
arms
brain
hair
boobs
feet . . . I could go on and on

Just STOP
take a breath
and find something to love about that rocky relationship . . . if I can do it, YOU can!

Repeat
Everyday

You will begin to hate that part less . . . and it may even turn into a friendship.
Or at least some sort of relationship that isn’t so rocky.
Those painful thoughts around that part of you WILL begin to relax and unwind.

And that can only lead to big, beautiful, bold days!

My thighs may never rock a leather leotard, fishnet stockings and boots, and THAT’S OK . . . but they look damn good in my new yoga pants! Ahhh . . .true like.

At least for today.