We made the move! CA to UT

Well, we did it. We made the move. We lifted our born and raised roots from California and planted them in Utah soil.

This is more like a journal entry, so if you want to hear me ramble on about my experience so far, keep reading. :)

I have to say I would have never in a million years thought I would end up in Utah. I worried a little that I was a pinch too liberal for Utah. What if I found myself drowning in heavy duty conservative sauce? (I love everyone, I am just not always so conservative when it comes to my beliefs) Was there going to be creative outlets for me that are a little "different"? Was it going to be culturally diverse enough? This is important to me. I grew up surrounded by diversity, it gifted me tolerance and openness, along with a thirst and appreciation for learning about other cultures and I want the same gift for my children.

Our first week here in our new home was giddy. I love the house, I love the yard, and I love the neighborhood. There is usually something romantic (in an organizational way, if you're into that) about unpacking a house. You either love it or hate it. I found joy in it. A week of deciding what would go where, what I no longer had room for, what I could use differently, and so on. There is still some excitement left in that area as I still need to buy a desk and a few dressers. I had welcoming family members and a dear friend, (we will call her Cookie) nearby. I was full of energy and smiles.

The second week morphed into something completely different. It started off exciting, Beeb started at her new elementary school and Bub started at his new Junior High School. They both had a great first week and made friends and I still had a week of little man Booski home with me before he started kindergarten. I was so happy for them that they were adjusting so well and jumping right in, so what was my problem? I felt lethargic. When I say lethargic, I mean I felt like I absolutely HAD to lie down every day. It was as if my legs were dragging behind me. If I didn't have the change in altitude to blame, I would have thought there was something seriously wrong with me. This lasted for almost two weeks! I felt exhausted, I felt down and depressed, and I felt lonely. It's not that I wanted to be around anyone either, I wanted to be alone because I felt lonely and shitty. I know and trust my feelings enough to know it was just my way of adjusting to a big change. It was confusing at first, why would I feel like shit when the change was my choice and I felt so positive about it? I had to remind myself that change is change. Good or bad, change can be rough. It can be ugly. A butterfly goes through a mess of shit before changing into such a beautiful creature.

Another dear friend, my "bosom buddy", reminded me that I can look at this change as a brand new start. I could do anything. I could be excited about it! She was right, I have an opportunity right now to do what I want with my time, to an extent. I have a few hours to myself during the day (2 hours and 45 minutes to be exact) while little Booski is in school, my classes haven't started up yet, so besides the regular busy-ness of day to day errand running, cleaning, yelling at dogs, cooking and all that fine stuff, I could start new and do new things with my time. I miss my breakfast with the bosom buddy, I miss coffee dates and walks, I have to start over and do things for me, with me. I also knew I needed to get active to help this lethargic state. I want to get in shape and lose weight and I want to have my energy back and there is no excuse not to.

First things first is trying new things. Here I was worried that I wouldn't find my kind of "things" out here. I live only 30 minutes from Salt Lake City, there is everything! There is diversity, there is natural food stores, there are meditation groups, kundalini yoga classes, there are groups that meditate and eat vegetarian dinners in the park, there are kick ass coffee shops, and brilliant restaurants. I want to try it all! These are some of the things that I wanted in California, but being in the central valley, some of these things and ideas were a distance away making it difficult to be a part of it. All of this goodness right at my fingertips!

Here's what I did first. I signed up at the gym. I'm not really a gym-girl. It easily feels intimidating, or testosterone-y. Plus my hip is still partially fractured so I'm not always sure what my limits are. The gym in town though, has a few things I thougtht I could really benefit from. First, daycare. I can leave Booski to play while I do something for myself. Second, classes. They have a ton of classes. I have craving a new sense of community, especially in the health area. So far I've done the yoga class, Pilate's, step, and I plan on trying kickboxing and zumba. It turns out the step class was advanced. When I left there, I felt like I had just done crossfit. Crazy intense, not what I expected. I plan on going every Friday and letting it kick my ass. Third, a sauna. Come on, a sauna. Tons of beautiful moist heat wrapped around your tired muscles. Love. Love. Love. There is a pool and a hot tub, and a steam room too but I mostly dig the sauna. Anyway, I'm becoming an exercise class junky and it has fixed my lethargic ways this last week. Now when I'm tired it is because I worked out, not because I'm depressed and in a higher elevation. It lifts my mood, my energy, and my motivation. Utah's slogan is "Utah, life elevated." It certainly is elevated, the inside of my nose is dry and bloody and I have to use my inhaler more often, but I will take that slogan and run with it on a more personal level, as if the inside of my nose wasn't personal enough for you.

Next I signed up for a meditation class in SLC. I have been meditating at home for a few years but I have always wanted to try a group meditation. This was a particular type, Sahaja Meditation. Anything to help awake the kundalini sounds worth a try to me. I invited Cookie to come along and check it out. It was more instructional than I had hoped for, was looking for more meditation than instruction but I did learn a lot more about the chakras and the history of Sahaja and how it relates to yoga and unity. The group setting is definitely a great addition to my practice. I already found some other meditation classes Cookie, so get ready!

I've set aside time for my kundalini yoga practice at home, my sacred cup of coffee with a side of mountain views, a gym class a few days a week, and quality time with Booski before he goes to afternoon kindergarten. By the end of week three I was feeling more balanced. I've been back to making freezer meals to make life easier. There is something about looking in the garage freezer and seeing meals ready to thaw and cook that makes me fill up with joy. It makes me feel like I have my shit together or something, I'm prepared, I'm ready, and I don't really have to cook.

The more I browsed around on Meetup, the more I could see that while being a conservative state (there are plenty of conservative things about me, just not as a whole) there are a multitude of groups and activities to get involved in. I felt less alone already.

Let's talk about the white people.

Were my children going to be constantly surrounded by white people and forget about how beautiful it is that the world is full of different poeple and history and cultures? It started to weigh on me much heavier than I thought it would. At the end of my second week here, as I was leaving Costco in Salt Lake City, I heard a woman speaking to her children in Spanish. My eyes immediatly filled with tears. It felt like the woman was hugging me. One of those deep, cleansing hugs that only some poeple know how to give. I felt like I was at home, hearing a Mexian woman speak to her children in Spanish. It may sound silly but it meant the world to me. I talked to my best friend since 7th grade (we will call her "my Janet") on my drive home. She reassured me that it was normal, that she went through similar feelings when she moved from our hometown to an area that was pridominently white. 

During week three I got out a lot more. Trips to Salt Lake City and errands in town showed me that there was more diversity than I had first thought. It made me feel more at peace with the whole thing. It makes me realize just how diverse and differnt California can be. A piece of my heart will always be there in CA, but I am embracing Utah with open arms and as of week 4, with more normal energy levels and motivation.

So here we are at one month after moving in. After a roller coaster of feelings I feel the balancing taking place. I feel like I am exploring and settling in. I feel happy about everything there is to offer here. All of the outdoor fun, the classes, the education, the family and sense of community. It's all here.

I have to say that our family here is amazingly supportive and loving. They regularly show that they want to help and support us, they want to spend time and make memories with us, and that they love us and our children. It's absolutly heart warming. It makes a big change that much easier.

What ever change you are going through, remember to be paitent with it. It could be big lifestyle changes, moving, a new job, starting school or even small changes. Small changes can affect you more than you think. Grief stricken changes like death are probably the most challenging, but you will get through it. You will not be the same afterwards, but you will get through it and figure out the new you. Allow yourself to feel like shit, really. As long as you are aware of what is going on with you, you will be able to move past it and take something with you. Just about everything can involve self discovery. Through the good and the bad, keep doing you.

First Time Mom vs Mom of Many - Self Love

I have been thinking lately about how my thoughts and reactions about motherhood differ so greatly from when I was a first time mom.  Some things I see as positives.  I quit worrying about germs, I learned to loosen up (routine is necessary, but kids need to be able to adapt to change without falling apart) I conquered my fear of dirt and mess, and I realized my kids' had their very own intriguing personalities that didn't need to mirror the majority to be OK.

There is however a few things that I have gotten lazy with after having multiple children.  I'm fine with it, they will survive and so will I. All the laziness does point to something positive, self love. I love myself more than when I started. It makes these things that I thought mattered so much, not matter much at all.

Bedtime:  When I was a mother to one, we had a sweet little bedtime routine.  It went something like, bath time, pajamas and a bed time story, an exchange of loving words, and lights out.  Same time every night.  It was just my son and I.  I had all of my attention to give and the rest of the evening for whatever it is I wanted to do with my time.

These days, depending on what day it is, we (husband and I) have either 3 or 5 children.  Bedtime usually goes a little something like this: "Bed time guys."  We exchange hugs, say our promise of "We'll tuck you in when we come up" (this may or may not happen depending on if they are sleeping or not, or if we are just too exhausted by then to follow through) and off they go upstairs to their rooms.  For about the next 45 minutes various children come halfway down the stairs to make up some bullshit story about how they didn't eat enough, or they are SO thirsty they might die, or another child is throwing things at them, or maybe that the youngest has smuggled a granola bar into bed so can't they just have one too?  Then it may be scary up there, or too hot or too cold. One gets a headache, the other won't stop talking, and the youngest becomes a terrorist if both the older boys are in the room with him to establish his alpha position as the youngest. He usually has to be moved to our bed.  At that point he comes down more than once to tell us that it is scary to be alone and he is giving us two minutes to come up. We ignore his threats and remind him that we will tuck him in when we come up.

I know, the sweet little bedtime routine sounds so much less annoying and ultimately makes bedtime easier, but we are tired.  They are old enough to slip into bed on their own. Although bedtime seems to get a little stressful, we find joy in not having to go upstairs.  That's just how it is now. A routine for 3-5 children? No thank you. I can hardly stay up later than the kids as it is, let me just sit on the couch for a few more minutes.

Kids in the Bed:  I use to worry that I needed to kick them out of my bed by a certain age.  The first one we kicked out at age 2, the second one at age 3, and the baby is 4 and a half and primarily sleeps with us.

I just don't give a shit with the younger one.  We have tried several times to get him out of our bed and into his own.  I know exactly how to do it. It works for a while, but we usually cave at some point because we actually miss cuddling with him. He doesn't get in my way so I don't care. He's only little for a little while. To the older ones, sorry, you had your time, if I can't stretch my legs at night I won't be very nice in the morning and no one wants that.

Buying Toys: When I had one child, I bought him new toys.  I would see cool stuff at Target and think about how much he would just love to have it. I would buy him new toys whenever I wanted. His grandparents bought him new toys whenever they wanted. His Auntie would buy him new toys whenever she wanted. The kid had some cool shit!

I can't remember the last time I bought a new toy that wasn't a gift for some sort of holiday or birthday. I think it happened once or twice in the last 5 years.  Guess what? My kids are happy.  They have stuff to call their own.  Honestly, I don't want all that crap in the house.  I cannot begin to explain the many types of toy organization I have tried over the years.  It works beautifully when I am the one organizing it, but once they get their hands on the system, it is over.  One perfectly intentional toy bin will end up holding a few toys, some dirty clothes, a few clean clothes, a tooth brush, a half eaten granola bar, something from another room, a pair of my underwear, and who knows what else.  I end up feeling resentful of my time and effort put into the organization only to have it literally trashed. My plan for the near future is to build each boy a shelf for the their room. Whatever they want to keep has to fit on the shelf. The little guy can keep his basket in the hall closet, he actually still plays with toys, but for the most part he does whatever the big kids do so he doesn't need much.

Language: I know that many of you will not agree with me here, and that is fine.  This is just my personal take on the subject.  It's not that I didn't used to watch my language, but I had never dropped an F-bomb in front of my kid, and assumed I never would.

As we roll five kids deep, things have changed. I curb my language where I see fit, but I speak in whatever way I need to express myself. They understand that they are not allowed to use these particular words.  They youngest tried on the word "BS" for a time when he was younger, but we moved past it. If I need to drop an F-bomb, I allow myself to do so. I am an adult, which gives me certain privileges that they don't have yet. Kind of like drinking wine.  I drink wine and they know that they cannot. It is simple, and they get it.  My children may hear me swear, but they do not see me do anything that would make me look like a shitty person and that is what matters to me. They see me feel real feelings, they see me love them, they see me grow as a mother and an individual, they see me love their Dad, and they see me be the best version of myself I can be.

Being my World:  This is a tricky one.  I think that somewhere in the middle of the beginning of motherhood and my current resting place, I was stuck.  I was stuck where I needed to be, however, to grow and enter a knew corridor of motherhood.

There was a time when practically everything I did was for or about my children.  They were my world.  I think we say that quite a bit, and we mean it, but when you really break that down it isn't always the most healthy way of thinking. We all love our babies, we all want to raise them the best we can.  We all want our kids to have a beautiful childhood and a special relationship with us. I know that as a stay-at-home-mom you feel like every waking moment you are on duty, which you pretty much are. On the other hand, as a working parent, you are meeting the demands of  your job all day to come home and meet the demands of your children's needs.  There is no part time parent, you are a parent all day either way. Parenthood is a huge responsibility and we all want to get it right.

There came a time though that I quit worrying about getting it right.  I did what I felt was right for each child.  I quit wondering if I should be doing what some other people were doing. Should I be giving more of my time to the school? Should I feel obligated to volunteer on the PTO just because I am home? Should I be making more one on one time with each child just because I am gone at work all day?

I also thought about how great it would be for them to look back on their childhood and be able to have memories of me as a person, not just as their mother. Things I liked to do for me, things that made me happy, things that I couldn't stand, things they loved about me and things that bugged them.  I want my kids to see that I am important to myself.  If you don't take care of you, you really can't give as much as you think you are giving to them.  You become tired.  We are all tired because this gig is a lot of work but I'm talking about tired from the inside.  You're tired because you have made your life so full of them that you leave no life for you.  It is not selfish or something to feel guilty about, it is necessary to show your kids how to take care of themselves as adults.  You need to love yourself and put yourself first. Self love is the foundation for joy.  THAT is something I want for my children. 

Of course I still handle the needs of my children.  I'm just saying it's little things. I don't feel obligated to go to the park because they want to if I really just feel like I need an afternoon coffee and some time to write.  Or maybe I need a down day with tea, knitting, and a good movie.  I spend less time now entertaining them and more time letting them entertain themselves so that I can take care of me.  I am not taking from them, I am giving to them by giving to myself. Childhood is magical without magical efforts from parents. It is magical because you are a child, full of imagination, hopes, and dreams.

They say that professors are referring to the current college generation as the "tea cups" due to how fragile they are.  Parenting has turned into clearing all paths for our kids so that nothing is in their way, nothing will upset them, and accomplishments will be easier to obtain.  They get out into the real world and can't handle hurdles, curve balls, or disappointment. Stress is foreign and too much to handle.  Hurt is too much to bare and self love is not a focus.  Why focus on self love when mom and dad love you more than they love themselves?  I want to feel confident that when my kids are grown, they can push through hard times and problems, coming out stronger and wiser on the other end. I don't need my children to be the best at anything, I need them to love themselves and figure out what makes them happy because my worst fear is for them to grow up and feel that they need other people or things to be happy.

I love my kids to tiny pieces.  They are the majority of my world and I can't imagine it without them.  I do though, appreciate this stage of motherhood where I am focused on self love as my way of giving to them and myself. It is a dark, lonely place to lose yourself.  Your world is spinning around your children, so much so that you don't slow down to see you and your needs, you're simply hanging on for dear life. Our kids deserve better than that and so do we.  It doesn't make you a better parent because you throw every waking moment you have into your children, it simply reflects a diluted sense of time management.

So go love yourself, get back to who you are and what you need and your children will flourish.

I will be over here, enduring a stressful bedtime. Only because I love myself, enough to take those extra 20 minutes or so for myself on the couch. ;-)  They will survive, and so will I. 
<3