Drops of Awesome

Thrill the World

October 28, 2015 by Kathryn

Maybe it’s because I snuck out of my room to watch the Thriller video when it premiered on TV even though my parents told me I wasn’t allowed to watch it and then I bawled all night because I was so terrified. Michael Jackson with yellow eyes dancing in a horror movie within a horror movie within a horror movie. I mean. Come on. Vomit-inducing fear.

Maybe it’s because someone once told me I looked like Jennifer Garner, who once did the Thriller dance in a movie.

Maybe it’s because all the best flash mobs involve bridesmaids dancing like zombies.

It’s possibly because I love hip hop dancing about as much as I am horrible at it. Which is a lot.

Whatever the reason, it’s long been on my bucket list to learn the choreography to Thriller.

And dance it in a group.

This weekend I did it! Dressed as a zombie princess with my daughter, her friend, and yes, my chiropractor, I danced Thriller with 250 other people at the mall.

Our makeup wasn’t all that epic.

I smiled way too much because I could not help myself.

I was more jolly than creepy.

But I seriously had the time of my life.

Apparently every year, people all over the world gather in the name of charity to Thrill the World. They all learn the dance and then perform it together at the same exact time, setting a world record for something.

So Laylee and I headed to the Senior Center Saturday mornings in September and October and dialed up the YouTube in between times to learn the heck out of this dance. Every time the music starts up and we get ready to dance, I tear up. Because that’s what I do. Dance makes me emotional.

During the first class we both just kept looking at each other like, “What did we get ourselves into?” It was way harder than we thought it would be, especially considering half the people in the class were senior citizens and they were rocking it.

The second class was better. We were almost up to old people hip hop levels and by performance day we nailed it. Mostly. My goal for next year is to make it look a little more like dancing and learn how to move my head from side to side like they do in the music video.

I’ve rarely had more fun with my girl and despite the fact that I don’t actually like pouring fake blood on myself and dressing up as a gory brain-eating zombie, I’m willing to pay that price in order to dance like Michael Jackson for a world record and to help disadvantaged kids learn golf. I am that selfless.

You should join us next year. Or should I say, “Next year join us… or we will nom nom your gray matter!”?

The fun thing is that whether you’re reading this in Seattle or Salt Lake City or Vancouver or Tokyo or London, there’s an event in your area and we can all dance together apart next year!

White Christmas for Halloween

October 26, 2015 by Kathryn

I’ve been working for months with Wanda.

“When someone asks you what you’re being for Halloween, what will you say?”

“Um… I forget.”

“You say, ‘I’m Judy Haines.’ Okay, now you try it.”

“I’m Judy Haines… Wait. What am I again?”

So she’s Judy and Laylee is Betty, the mother hen. Dan is Bing Crosby or Bob Wallace due to his buttery voice and smallish hair. Magoo is Danny Kaye aka Phil Davis due to his hilarity and dancing skills. I am the nosy housekeeper played by Mary Wickes. There is no resemblance in any way.

The kids asked what the housekeeper’s name was and I said, “Emma.”

Laylee said, “Emma Waverly.”

Me – She’s not married to the general. She’s just the housekeeper.

Laylee – Okaaayyy….

Later to Dan, I said, “Oh my word. They think housekeeper and wife/mom are interchangeable. I am like a housekeeper hired by God to clean up after them. And a spy.”

From Bob and Phil, Betty, Judy, and Emma the nosey housekeeper, Happy Halloween!

For the Love

October 21, 2015 by Kathryn

I have the hardest time every year choosing what picture to put on our Christmas cards. From the time school starts pretty much until Christmas vacation we simply do and do and do some more. We don’t really take time to document the doing. So the years when I get around to printing Christmas cards I often struggle. The summer pictures are too summery. The spring pictures are too outdated already. The fall pictures look like a ninja or witch, or a What Does the Fox Say, which aren’t very Christmasy.

So, this year I decided to kill two birds with one stone. For Halloween our entire family is dressing up as characters from White Christmas. Then we take a picture at the Halloween party and BAM! Christmas card pictures! The girls are the Haines Sisters, Dan and Magoo are Bob and Phil, and I’m the nosy housekeeper.

We’ve been buying fabric and feather fans for weeks and now, and the church Halloween party is just a couple of days away. I’ve been getting more organized, thanks to the fabulous Power of Moms, and I’m pretty much on schedule with this project. Today is the day to sew.

But I find that since I know I need to sew today, it’s the last thing I want to do. In fact, I’m Grumble-Sewing. Sew a seam. Growl a little. Pull out some pins. Sigh.

I am sitting at the table surrounded by gorgeous blue clouds of fabric and wonderful sewing machines that I’m blessed enough to own. I’m creating something amazing that I really want to create because I somehow convinced my entire family to dress up as characters from my favorite Christmas movie for Halloween, and I’m whining.

Why?

Have you ever done this? Have you ever found yourself whining internally or externally because you have to do something that you technically really love and that you chose to do but that suddenly when it’s time to do it, it feels like a chore?

Ugh. I have to read my book club book.
Ugh. I have to pick out an outfit for my date night.
Ugh. I have to sew Halloween costumes.
Ugh. I have to make dinner.
Ugh. I have to walk upstairs and sing Wanda a song for bedtime.

I love reading, getting dressed up, sewing, cooking, and spending time with my kids. But there’s something about a deadline or a sense of necessity that squash-slams my attitude.

However, noticing how annoying I was being, I was able to turn my day around by changing a few things:

1. Make a mental list of why you love what you’re doing – Today as I was sewing, I tried to remember why I love this hobby. I made a mental list.
-I get to make something beautiful.
-My kids love it.
-It makes me feel creative.
-I love finding cool new ways to put pieces together.
-It’s one of the few things I do that gets recognition from other people . (It’s like grown-up show and tell.)

2. Watch your wording – Whenever I chatted with someone, I was careful about how I talked about what I was doing. Instead of saying, “I have to sew costumes today,” I said, “I get to sew costumes today.” It helps to think of the task as a privilege, rather than a burden. I should never forget that I chose how I spend my time.

3. Take breaks – So instead of pushing through with my usual sewing sweatshop, a marathon process that makes sewing extremely unfun, I broke it up by doing other tasks like cleaning and grocery shopping. That way sewing was the recreational activity I could return to in little chunks and actually enjoy it.

I find that this process works even for tasks I don’t actually love. If I make a mental list of things I love about mopping (the smell of the soap, the way the floor looks and feels when I’m done, the game I play where I break the floor up into shapes and scrub them one at a time), talk about it like I’m lucky to have a floor to mop, and reward myself with a little break when I’m done the kitchen, mopping is less of a suck.

How do you motivate yourself to do the things you hate or remind yourself that you actually love the things on your schedule?

The Wait is Over Little Afghan Girl

September 18, 2015 by Kathryn

Last year I took this picture at one particularly bleak, rainy, underwater baseball game. It’s a typical picture. Wanda. Watching people do cool stuff she’s not old enough for yet.

When I showed it to Dan, he pointed out the unintentional similarity to the famous National Geographic cover of the Afghan Girl.

She was a refugee.

Wanda feels like that sometimes, lost, displaced, denied basic rights like eating donuts for every meal.

She sits. And she waits.

When you’re the youngest, you do a lot of waiting.

Waiting for your turn to play soccer.

Waiting for your turn to learn piano.

Waiting to ride the school bus.

Waiting to learn to read.

Wanda has always been my portable child. She was practically born on the soccer field. I was pregnant for the first half of the season, waddling to Laylee and Magoo’s games and practices four times a week. I gave birth and then brought her to games for the second half of the season. And every season since.

And basketball. And dance. And volleyball. And baseball. And math competition. And piano recitals. And band concerts. And science fairs. The list goes on.

Sometimes she gets antsy and people might think she’s impatient. I think she just used up a lifetime of patience in five years. She is done waiting.

This year it’s her turn.

She started kindergarten with a bang, running off the bus so fast when it arrived at the first day of school that she didn’t even see me standing there with the camera.

And she plays soccer like her mom. What she doesn’t have in skill, she makes up for in charismatic brutishness. And she’s having the time of her life.

Yesterday Laylee and Magoo were whining about having to watch her soccer game in the rain, her soccer parents while I attended a meeting at the middle school. I laughed and told them it was the circle of life. It’s Wanda’s turn now.

Red Wagons and Knuckerholes

September 16, 2015 by Kathryn

I’d been planning all my life for the first day of school, or at least all month. I often say, “DOWN WITH PERFECTIONISM!” But then there’s this small part of me that really really wants to just be perfect. Because that would make life easier and then I wouldn’t have to be obsessed with perfection anymore because I would have already achieved it. It’s like when you can’t stop playing Lego Star Wars on the Wii until you beat the game and then you never think about it again. That’s how I see my life being when I achieve perfection, total Zen.

We had planned the heck out of the first day of school, family meetings, calendar items, to-do lists, backpacks packed and clothes laid out two days early.

But when the day actually came, we ended up forgetting things, losing lunch boxes, running over little red wagons with the van, showing up late to kindergarten assessments because we were so busy trying to do all the morning routines perfectly, praying that the kindergarten teachers were not assessing personal hygiene because we forgot to brush our new kindie’s hair.

When the day ended, I popped on Facebook and saw all my friends post pictures of their kids on the first day. And they weren’t just pictures. They were pictures with props.

Framed art that said what grade they were starting.

Actual, flippin’ ART. In frames. That said what grade they were starting.

Why is this a thing? Why?

Anyway. I took a picture of the wagon I ran over. So that’s something. And I learned a new fake swear, thanks to our friends at Dragon Tales. So that’s something else.

When I signed out of the school, Wanda discovered this book in a basket in the office.

She asked me to read it. I really really needed to find out what a knuckerhole was so I sat down and read it to her.

It turns out that a knuckerhole is a magical tube you can jump though that basically takes you to nowheresville where you sit and think about how you should have done a better job cleaning your bedroom until a dragon saves you and takes you to the fireworks show.

I prefer to think of it as an awesome new slang term for pretty much whatever.

Ex. Why did Zack take such a cheap shot and punch Wheezy in the knuckerhole?

Shut your knuckerhole!

Maybe

Why in the knuckerhole did someone put the red wagon behind my car wheel?

Stop being such a knuckerhole and load your lunch dishes in the dishwasher.

So, we decided to send that day down the knuckerhole and started over. And the school year is actually off to a pretty decent start at this point. I still haven’t taken first day of school pictures for all three kids because I’m not done crocheting doilies that say which grades each of them are starting. But I am at peace with that.

How Does She – Stay Sane

September 15, 2015 by Kathryn

I have a new post up at HowDoesShe.com about sending my last kid off to school and how it’s okay not to love every minute of your young mothering life. [Read at HowDoesShe.com]

For Your Labor Day Pinterest Board

September 4, 2015 by Kathryn

It’s the most magical time of year. No doubt you’ve spent the last several months preparing for your Labor Day celebrations. If you’ve still got a few holes in your festivities, you might want to try fitting in one of these super-fun Labor-Day-Themed activities on Monday. From my family to yours, enjoy!

1. Clean Something – Nothing puts the “Labor” in Labor Day like some good old-fashioned elbow grease. Make sure the workers get breaks at regular intervals and that the labor is fairly divided.

2. Fly a Flag – RE: Patriotism

3. Watch Newsies – I find there’s no better way to introduce children to the Labor Movement than watching a movie starring Batman dressed as a musical newspaper boy. The boy wants more papes! GIVE HIM MORE PAPES!

4. Protest Something – You don’t even have to all protest the same thing. Choose coordinating poster boards, sharpie out all your feels, and congregate on a street corner somewhere. You like adding cherries on top of things? Teach them an epic call-and-response chant. WHAT DO WE WANT? MORE REALISTIC LIGHTSABERS! WHEN DO WE WANT THEM? YEAH!

5. Create Your Own Labor Union Seal – Let the creativity flow as your children join their brothers and sisters and work together to create a symbol of their solidarity and ambition.

6. Hold a Charter-Writing Contest – Every Labor Union needs a manifesto. Hold a contest to see who can write the best Labor Union charter. We usually cap ours at about 30,000 words just because it takes so long to review all the material and we need to choose a winner and pay him or her. Our parent/child agreement requires that all compensation is delivered within 24 hours of work completion. For younger kids, have them make a list of Rights and Duties as we did this year with young Wanda.

7. Build a Human Pyramid – Make a physical manifestation of the workplace dynamic in your home. Our youngest child’s privileged status is represented here by her placement on the backs of the common people. No, she doesn’t have to clean toilets. But she wears her one-percentishness with such grace.

8. Crack open a Drink – When the work is done, sit back, pass around the soda, and think about how your combined labor makes the world go around. Cheers!

Happy Labor Day!

Wish Me Peace and Comfort at This Most Difficult Time

August 5, 2015 by Kathryn

Every once in a while, it does a body good to do something scary, something good and productive that scares the Chacos off of you. Two years ago it was a sprint triathlon. This year it’s a 10k.

And I don’t run.

Ever.

Once many years ago my physical therapist told me I had wobbly joints and I should never become a runner. I listened to her because she was singing my song. I can never run? Oh, the tragic humanity of it all. Do I want to get up at 4:00AM and slam my body repeatedly against the cement until I vomit? Of COURSE I do! Who wouldn’t!? Sadly, I can’t. I’ve been medically advised not to.

No. Under the council of my almost physician, I’m afraid I will have to eat cheese and watch Pride and Prejudice instead and think about how hardcore I’d be IF (as Cinderella’s stepmother would say) I were physically able to wear tiny shorts and exert myself to the point of almost-death. But I can’t… so… nom nom nom… Netflix.

I’ve done a few 5ks in my life, always walking them, re: my off-the-cuff diagnosis of wobbilitis. When I competed in a sprint triathlon a couple of years ago I walked the 5k portion. I wanted a big goal, a scary goal, but one with no running involved. I finished. I cried. It was glorious.

Then my body fell into disrepair. I’d met my big fat goal and I didn’t have another one and I just stopped pushing myself.

So, when a friend asked on facebook who wanted to run a 10K with him this September, I said, “Yes,” before I really thought about it. I needed something to push me. This would be the thing. This race has everything – cartoonists, Nutella and cupcakes at the aid stations, couches along the route, and creepy guys in fat suits chasing you to make you run faster. How could I refuse?

I consulted my new PT and she said, “Sure. You can run it if you train properly.”

Well, crap.

So I’ve been training for several months. At first I did this in secret, not wanting to tell my running friends for fear they would brand me as one of them, invite me to sleep in their stinky Ragnar van, or “do a quick 14-miler” on a Saturday morning, only to find out I was simply pretending to run.

I’m still running slower than many people walk. What I’m doing is pretty much what they’d call jogging in the eighties but since it is not the eighties we are all runners. Always. And athletes. Never say “jogging” to me.

But eventually the secret came out and everyone’s been nothing but supportive. Runners are people too, it seems.

And I’m tri-ing again this week as a step on the road to the 10k. ¼ mile swim, 14 mile bike, 5K run.

It’s been a rocky process. I haven’t lost an ounce of weight. I’ve had some training days that have made me happy cry and more days where I’ve sad cried. Mostly I’m just proud I’ve stuck with it this long. I feel stronger and more certain I can do hard things, even if I do them really REALLY slowly.

Last week was one of the Dark Times. We’d been on vacation, a veritable tour of food, and when I got back I’d lost a lot of ground physically. Five-year-old Wanda overheard me asking a friend to pray for me because I was worried about the tri and the 10K of doom.

So she went up to the card drawer and picked out this lovely specimen for me, which I’m 98% sure she had no idea how to read.

Then she wrote this inside.

“Mom. I know that you can do the triathlon next year. Love, Wanda.” The picture is me and my three friends running. I am not tall.

Notice what the original card says.

It truly is a most difficult time. Wish me peace. And comfort. And several months of post-race carb loading.

My Autobiography on a Plate

July 28, 2015 by Kathryn

“What’s that?” Laylee asked with an upturned nose, pointing to Wanda’s uneaten peanut butter sandwich languishing on the table.

“It’s the story of my life,” I replied, “My autobiography on a plate.”

Because I spend my life making food for people, sometimes very specific food like this particular sandwich, food that is asked for, and needed for things like sustaining life and strengthening eyeballs, food that is licked and discarded.

That plate says so much.

Laylee gave me the “Mom You’re Weird” look and moved on with her day.

Later that night I asked her if she liked the lunch I’d packed her for school.

“Oh. Sorry, Mom! I forgot to eat it and bought lunch at the cafeteria.”

Garbage can open thy gaping maw. We have another offering.

Certifiable

June 7, 2015 by Kathryn

I didn’t know Laylee was certifiable but she has a card that says otherwise. I took her to Seattle Children’s Hospital for a CPR course for babysitters yesterday, handed her over to some strangers for five hours and she came out of it with this card and the ability to save your life, especially if you are pediatric in nature.

She is prepared to crack your ribs if necessary. She told me this. And, although it would be awkward, she is willing to remove any clothing that gets in the way. Because. And she was very clear on this. Your life is at stake and that’s more important than worrying about awkward nudity. I wipe away a silent tear of parental pride.

I spent the five hours sitting in a lobby at the hospital working on my manuscript for the next Drops of Awesome project due out from Familius in 2016. It’s a gift book about ways to be Awesome and it’s taking an awful lot of time and thought for so short and cute of a book. I hope you love it. You probably will. Re: you are awesome.

Later in 2016, we’re planning to release a third Drops of Awesome book, tentatively titled Autobiography of Awesome, a much more in-depth guided journal that gives you prompts to help you write the history of your beautiful life. I’m working on that right now too and it may be my favorite book yet. I’m so excited to use it!

To celebrate, we drove a mile to the U District and stopped at Full Tilt Ice Cream, where I proceeded to buy bigger-than-your-head waffle cones for everyone I could find who was a) my daughter and b) had just finished a CPR course. They were all super grateful.

I sampled the wares as well, just to be sure they weren’t poison and because my budding life saver refused to order chocolate-covered bacon as a topping on her cone. Something needed to be done with regards to that travesty.

One of us ended up with melted ice cream between our toes. Not naming names. Follow my eyes.

And we came home to a sweet and tired family who had spent the day at our small town’s yearly festival, a magical place where tractors,

unmarked wooden carts full of townspeople,

tanks,

time machines,

fruit people

and dancing Mexican horses

delight the crowds and show off our rich cultural sub-rural Washington heritage.

I was pretty sad to miss the fun, but, hey. If Laylee is willing to crack your ribs and rip your clothes off to save your life, I guess I’m willing to miss a parade with a tin man bee keeper riding in a flatbed truck. You’re welcome.

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