What Dreams Look Like

Now that I’ve left you wondering about what these dreams I’m chasing are... It is time for some details.

I started writing about them a few days ago and after I got through about four pages of words I thought, “I might need to break this up.”

So, this is the “what it looks like” edition. I hope to share more of the why in the future. 

But, exciting things are happening around my house that are fun to talk about and fun to  share. 

I am now officially a CrossFit coach! 

SQUEEE!

Yes, it is true. 

People show up to my house in black leggings and I ask them to do hard things, and then they do it!

A couple of months ago a friend of mine was lamenting a stuck place in her life, specifically in the area of fitness. 

I felt like an absolute fraud, but I offered to have her come to my house a few times a week to do push ups and squats and maybe lift some heavy things. 

I kept reminding her that I am just a regular girl who happens to like CrossFit and happens to have a few pieces of equipment in my garage, and that I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but I was willing to cheer her on.

Well, she showed up, despite my disclaimer. 

Then I opened up the invitation to a few more gals, since it is infinitely more fun to workout with people than alone (in my opinion). My open invitation received a much eager response than I expected. 

Suddenly, I had FIVE girls showing up three times a week to get sweaty.

Then, Andy and I got the wild idea to get enough equipment for all these brave ladies. 

So, in our house that is still without a couch, we installed a few pull up bars, collected some kettle bells, wall balls and weight sets and invited a few more people to join the fun.

Now, we have “classes.” We have a website. We have a GYM!

And I am a coach.

Who would have guessed?!

The more that people started showing up, the more responsible I felt to make sure they were being safe, and that the workouts we were doing would move them toward their goals. 

So, I chased another wild hare and registered to go through the official CrossFit coaching course. 

This in itself was an amazing experience to me. I mentioned to a friend that I thought I should get a little more instruction on how to coach and she suggested that I go through the course. I looked it up online and low and behold, there was a course in Washington, just three weeks away. Every other course, around the country, before and for months after was already sold out. Except the one I needed.

So this past weekend, I spent full days practicing squats and lifts and learning how to teach pull ups and why CrossFit is what it is. I almost cried twice, from appreciation and warm feelings toward this culture and community of people and sport.

I came home feeling slightly more informed, but still just a girl who likes CrossFit. More than anything, I was inspired to keep chasing excellence - stronger skills in coaching, in my own fitness, in my challenge and encouragement to others. 

The more I coach, the more I see people improve, the more I practice being an athlete and trainer, the more I love my days. 

I feel full of energy and enthusiasm. I am inspired by the women who come to my house and try hard and scary things. I feel a huge sense of possibility for what our family is moving toward. 

I feel a freedom to fail that is new and refreshing. And equally exciting, I feel a freedom to succeed! 

Our little gym might grow, it might stay just a hobby, but whatever it is, it is fun! And I will love it for what it is.

So, if you are in our area, and want a good workout, stop by The Compound! I promise I’ll be nice!

What happens when you say yes?

More and more I am learning to appreciate the life I am living.

We have been back in Washington for a wee bit more than four months now, and just within the last few weeks, I feel like I have “woken up” from the fog and fatigue that come with big changes. 

I was trying to express to a friend the liberation I was feeling and she asked me if I could pinpoint a reason for the change in my mood and outlook.

Well, for one, the sun has been out for almost a whole week, which I realize goes a LONG way with me. I will have to be mindful of that on grey and drizzly days.

I also have had some kid-free time to wander and enjoy silence. Another piece of the puzzle of knowing myself better. For as much as I love hustle and bustle, I NEED silence. 

And to make the final crack in my shell of survival mode, I have put words to my dreams and set my feet on a path to make them happen.

That is no small matter, I assure you.

Dreaming is hard work. It is incredibly scary to say out loud what you wish for in your heart. What if people laugh? Or worse (for me) what if someone thinks you can’t, or shouldn’t do it...

Yes, very scary.

But as I have been mulling over what makes my heart come alive, what gets me excited and what I gravitate to over and over, I have come to the conclusion that it is much more dangerous to try and silence a dream that it is to chase it.

There are parts of my longing that will have to be patient. I give them space to grow and nod to me, but because of either time, or skill, or finances, they just can’t happen right now. For many months that was frustrating to me. I felt stifled. Like I was suffocating under the weight of the things I couldn’t do RIGHT NOW.

Until I started looking for all the things that I CAN do. 

Because every end goal has tiny steps that need to be taken to get there. Every skill worth developing is built with small blocks that add up to something big in the end.

So, I started looking for the tiny ways I could move forward. 

I started to say yes.

And when I started to say yes, instead of focusing on the no... The way opened up before me.

I am feeling a bit dramatic as I type this. 

But I am really, really excited.

I feel as if I have pushed my boat out into a strong current and its momentum is pulling me along. 

I try and steel myself for the day when I have to do the hard work of paddling my boat, but for this very moment, I am enjoying the swift and exhilarating ride down this river.

To say yes. To acknowledge the want and to DO SOMETHING about it is a wonderful feeling.

I hope, dear friends, that you find some space to let dreams spring up. 

Find the courage to say yes to the little things.

Look at what you CAN do, right now, and do it. 

Let hope and enthusiasm meet you as you celebrate each step in the right direction. 

And silence the voice that wonders if your dream is big enough and godly enough and good enough. If you listen to that voice you will do nothing. So quiet it and go do SOMETHING!

What's Happened in Washington?

Exciting things are happening around here.

Since we have moved back to Washington, there are a few things (silly, vague word... moments, occasions, thoughts, experiences... nope, just "things" and now I've used it twice. Ugh.) worth noting.

Arizona was very hot. Washington feels very cold. 

I dress in about three full layers of clothing to make my way to the gym. I slowly create a heap of discarded clothing as I warm up, lift, and then get ready for the workout. I will try to remember to capture my pile of clothing in a photo so you ban know that I am not exaggerating (very much).

I have accomplished my mission of developing a "Washington Uniform." 

Prior to moving to Arizona, I loved getting dressed up and wearing "real clothes." After my stint in the desert and our life that was almost exclusively gym or home-based, I discovered my deep love of wearing only stretchy things. Coming back home I vowed that I would have an easy, go-to, mix-and-match way of dressing that would allow me to wear stretchy clothes, but still be almost-presentable for real life interactions. Enter my uniform. Leggings. Boots. Sweater/Cardigan. Done. I would like to give myself a gold star for this ingenious and executed (we all know I struggle in the follow through of great ideas) wardrobe plan.

I got a job.

I mean a real, clock in-clock out, job. It was just for the holiday season, but it was strange and momentous to "go back to work" after being an at home mom. I worked at my favorite gym-wear store. I scored some great employee deals and probably spent more than I should.

It was a bit of a shock to my system to go from working with the underprivileged to the over-privileged. I was reminded about lots of the things that I think are so lovely about the Seattle area as well as some of the unique traps that my city holds for me. I am one shift away from wrapping up that stint and then I will start looking for a "real" job. The time has come that our family needs me to be a wage-earner. I hope it won't be for long, but since it is what we need, I will do it. So look out "real" world, I'll be joining the fray soon!

And finally...

Our house is almost done!

Currently we are cozied up with my lovely parents. From way back when, the plan had be that Andy's parents wanted build a mother-in-law house on their property and we would borrow it while Andy finished school. The house wasn't done when Andy started school, so we took a break in Arizona. The house still isn't quite finished, and Andy is BACK in school... but ladies and gentleman... we are getting close!

I mean, paint colors in my purse close!

I mean, ordering lights and picking out a shower curtain close.

To me, this is almost an all-consuming event.

For the last two and a half years we have been a family plus. Our family PLUS whoever else we are living with. In-laws, foster children, parents... There have been great advantages to all of these arrangements, and I am certain that each new placement developed something in us as a family that will be crucial to our coming days... but let's just put it out on the table. I want my own space.

And it is almost here!!

So be prepared. I'll probably be talking about refrigerators and dishes and bare floors and doing a lot of celebrating and most likely a little whining. Just know, that to me, this concept of space, a place that is MINE, has seemed so illusive for a very long while. Now that it is within my reach, I can hardly stand the wait. But, I will.

Like I tell Jack, patience is being able to wait cheerfully.

I find that I don't much like that definition now that I have to practice it myself!

2013

Well.

Today is January first.

The first day of a new year.

Fresh starts and resolutions and recaps.

You know the drill.

For many, many months I have craved to get words out, into sentences and paragraphs and stories... but every time I get an inkling to make a picture out of letters, I get distracted, or scared, or overwhelmed or... worst of all... "busy."

It seems like there is too much to tell.

Like the stories and thoughts that I want to express require too much back story. Too many bits and pieces are missing to convey what I want to say.

But I'm pretty sure that is just me being lazy and probably scared.

I keep meaning to catch this little blog-space up with the "where are they now" of our family life.

I keep meaning to catalogue the interesting observations I've made about life since transitioning out of foster parenting.

I keep meaning to...

But meaning to and executing are two very different things.

I don't feel quite brave enough to get my actual, real life, specific 2013 goals out in the midst of a blog that has been sorely neglected for the last year, but I do feel brave enough to start putting words together. Into sentences. Into paragraphs. Into stories.

I'm feeling a bit out of practice, but with a few more runs and lots more typing and deleting and starting over... we will get back into the swing of things!

So 2013, here's to many more words!

The Winds of Change

Dear Friends,

The winds of change have blown through our family yet again.

I tried to write about it earlier this morning, but all my words came out emotionally heavy, and that isn't really what I was aiming for.

Writing is so interesting. For myself, I find that when I start putting words to a screen, I see a little bit more what I really think and feel. I find enthusiasm, or sarcasm, or hurt... sometimes I see it first in the words I string together, before I've realized that they are in my heart.

Jesus was so accurate in his summation, "out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks." The words that come out of me, written or spoken, often reveal parts of my heart that I forget to attend to, or try to keep hidden.

So, in a season of change, I discovered: I am weary. I am a little bruised. I feel just a tiny bit fragile (even though I never cease to be amazed at God's ability to sustain me when I feel beyond my capacity). I also am excited. I feel the energy of a fresh start. I walk with the duality of thrill and loss, often referred to as bittersweet.

Many people already know of our coming changes.

Andy and I are not very good at pomp and circumstance. We tend to just tack things together as they come before us. A comment here, a plan there, and suddenly we have changed our course.

And this week, we are steering our ship toward the Northwest.

The Aichele's are moving home!

I have a lot to say about the move.

But I think it will come out over several attempts to get the words to actually communicate what I mean.

I am making the trek home with more experience, hopefully more perspective, an older face and no furniture.

I hope that from this last year and a half in the desert I have been shaped more into the woman God desires me to be. I see glimpses of more holiness in, but fully aware of hard parts that remain in my heart.

It remains to be seen what I have become. When I walk back into familiar rooms, established relationships and communities that have grown without me... when I have space to explore those words in my heart... then we will see what has happened over this desert season.

So, my Southwest friends, farewell. Thank you for the richness of this experience.

Northwest friends, I shall see you soon. Just in time for one trip to the pumpkin patch!

I have loved the tank tops, shorts, flip flops, swimsuits (lie, who loves swimsuits!?) and almost-tan of this toasty warm home. But we all know that my heart lies with the scarves and cinnamon of Western Washington.

Autumn, don't flutter away too soon! I'll be there in a week!

Good Clean Food

Andy and I have been participating in a six-week challenge at our gym.

Most CrossFitters have heard about the "paleo" diet. The two go hand in hand.

The first week Andy tried CrossFit he came home telling me he wanted to try a new way of eating. On the off-limit list would be: dairy, grains, sugar, legumes and soy.

My reaction was, anything that says you can't eat beans is not healthy.

So we tabled the idea.

Until I started working out too. And by that point we were pretty much goners to the culture of CrossFit.

Which just so happens to include this particular theory about food.

The bare bones of it is, you eat like a caveman. Anything that could have been killed or foraged way back in history is approved, anything that is a product of the agricultural revolution and forward, is not.

Perhaps, in another post I will talk about what is cool and what is weird and our travels into and out of and back again to the Caveman Diet, but for my story today all you need to know is that for the last three weeks Andy and I have been eating very "clean" food.

Single ingredients. Lots of grilled meats and raw or roasted veggies. Fruits. Seeds and Nuts. And that about sums it up.

Most CrossFit gyms host a quarterly "challenge" to encourage people to try out this food lifestyle. Usually you toss in a few dollars, take a crash course on the do and don't list and then flounder around for a few weeks, wondering what to eat. The winner (determined by weight/inches lost, performance improvement, and weekly food logs) takes home cash and has a sexy toned body to show for their hard work.

And I know I said I wouldn't buy into 

another "diet" scheme.

But this is pretty much our ideal in eating

anyway .

Prior to the challenge we had gotten pretty far from our goals

for what we consume.

Neither of us set out with the intention of losing weight or

even "winning" the challenge.

We just wanted some accountability for what we put on our plates.

There are varying degrees of extremeness within the diet and our gym takes the approach of being incredibly strict for six weeks and then introducing additional food items, like honey or bacon or sweet potatoes after the strict phase is over.

At the beginning of the challenge I decided to go ahead and give up coffee as well as everything else for the initial six weeks. Coffee, black, is allowed on the diet, but I don't really drink coffee for coffee's sake. I drink it to have a reason to consume vast quantities of cream and sugar. If people wouldn't look at me weird for drinking a cup of cream with several sugar packets dumped in, I probably would just skip to that.

So, since sugar and cream are both on the no-go list, I decided to just bite the bullet and go cold-turkey until the challenge concludes.

I confess, I have been grumpy.

And dream of the Starbuck's drive thru.

Often.

But it has been getting better. I definitely can make it through most days without the caffeine. A few times I have poured myself a cup and neglected it after the first sip or two.

Last night however, I went to sleep dreaming about how I could stay on track and still eventually go back to my sweet coffee indulgence.

Then a vision came to me.

This morning I assembled a few ingredients and ended up making a cold blended drink with coconut cream and date paste (just dates that I soaked overnight in water and then pureed) blended with ice and coffee. The result was heaven.

I mostly wanted to see if I COULD make something delicious. Once I had, I poured most of it for Andy and kept a precious few sips for myself.

It was with great delight and not a small bit of smugness that I carried my cup of morning dessert into the bathroom to enjoy while I got ready for church.

As I was pulling out the blow drier and my make-up bag I picked up my cup to move it to the edge of the counter and give me more space to work.

I set my mug down, and as I did, I gasped.

The universe was working on my behalf to remind me to wait three more weeks to drink my coffee.

Because when I moved it over, I un-thinkingly set it right next to our newly acquired automatic soap dispenser.

That is right.

Soap. Right in the coffee.

Somehow, I had set it down just perfectly to trigger the sensor and distribute a steady stream of orange antibacterial ooze right into my icy treasure.

The few sips I had got in before the catastrophe must have been enough for me. On another day (of my coffee-free challenge) I might have thrown a heroic fit. But today, I just laughed and laughed and laughed.

I think I truly am a more pleasant person to be around, with a little java in the morning (at least until my boys start sleeping past 5:30 in the morning). So, my sweet coffee discovery will remain a triumph, even if I didn't get enjoy it in it's fullness today.

In the interest of finishing what I've started, I most likely will continue to refrain from coffee on a daily basis. But... on those days that just need a little extra help in the morning, it's good to know I have options. As long as I keep it away from the soap!

Imperfection

Our family has become a road trip family, and I love it.

Every month we get away for five days or so with just our two boys. Some months we stay in town at a small house that is available to the house parents in our company. But more and more, we have been finding excuses to drive someplace new and get out of the familiar.

There is something about being far removed from what I do and see and hear every day, that helps me “check out.” My mind more easily turns off the business-chatter and switches into play and rest mode. In a small way, I feel released from our daily routine and free to let days fit our whims, rather than keep our routine ridged.

This month we decided to drive to Texas to visit Andy’s mom. She rented us a little bungalow with an adorable loft for the boys to sleep in and a perfect little club house with a pool and park for the boys to burn energy at. 

The trouble with vacations, is that so often they are a beautiful mix of “perfect” and “awful.” 

The freedom of being away from the familiar also translates to some inconveniences. 

It would be more than easy to construct a post about the sweet moments we have experienced, and there have been many (don’t worry, I will tell you about those too), but I’ve been suffering from a growing need to celebrate (catalogue? Share? Not sure of the right word here...) “real” life. 

The trouble with blogs, and don’t get me wrong, I am a blog junkie, is that it is so, so easy to make your life what you want it to be. Or at least give others the impression that your life is what they want theirs to be.

If my word diet is too full of happy-go-I’m-perfect posts and how-to’s about simplifying and beautifying and strongifying, I get out of balance. I start to think that everyone cleans their house with one perfect product and that every mom plays with her children endlessly and cheerfully all day long and that every crossfit woman’s goal is to make it to the games and it should be mine too.

I’ve gone back and forth in my mind for many months about blogging. When I first had Jack, blogging was an outlet for me. A chance to say what was on my mind, when it was sometimes hard to find faces to talk to. 

My enthusiasm for blogging has ebbed and flowed and sometimes I have had a lot to say, and sometimes not much. And sometimes I have had a lot to say and haven’t said it, because, well, some things just shouldn’t be available to everyone.

But in the last six months or so, as I have found beautiful blogs that distract me from my daily duties and that inspire me and make me feel like it is good to be alive, I have wondered if I would like to have a pretty blog. 

As I wrestle with wondering if I should or could or would ever have a “real” blog, I remember that whatever my answer. Real life has to be shared. Too much perfect makes everyone feel out of balance.

So, in the midst of our cheerful vacation, here are the places were I completely and utterly failed:

• I scheduled events the entire day prior to and day of leaving, so that instead of getting out of town early we didn’t leave the city until 7:00pm.

• I didn’t pack enough underwear for myself or enough pajamas for the boys.

• I forgot to tell Jack’s teacher he wouldn’t be in class for a week (she probably hates me now and will take out her frustration on Jack, equating to an inferior preschool experience for him, leading to his dislike of school and more significant educational struggles down the road. This is ridiculous of course, but not to far from how I think sometimes.)

• I was brutally grumpy to Andy the second day of driving, which happened to be his birthday, which I did nothing to celebrate, except to sit at a restaurant with our family (that Andy didn’t want to go to anyway) and storm out with both boys as the service took far too long to produce food and the boys, and I, melted down. (Probably the worst scene I have ever made)

• I forgot the camera, which means that I won’t have pictures of Jack’s first big boy roller coaster ride, Joey’s adorable face painting at Sea World, the boys feeding ducks or riding a train, or playing in their loft beds, or any of the sweet moments that I want to remember the trip for. 

Sometimes I just plain mess up. Sometimes in spectacular fashion. Sometimes, in small annoying ways. Regardless of the magnitude of the mistakes, it happens. And that is my life. I will always have small disasters neighboring my triumphs. 

That’s the thing about blogging. Some people love to harp on their failures. Some share only their successes. I hope, that whether I blog a bunch, or keep this random pace, my life is always a celebration of... life... Wonderfully up and down life. 

Rundown

I have been anticipating this day for three months.

Summers are tiring in a house full of 10 kids. There isn’t enough to do to keep everyone busy and out of trouble for months on end, and in a state that is kill-you-hot during the summer, that means a lot of long hours in the house...

Luckily we made it through the vacation months with fantastic kids and very little real drama. 

June and July had me looking forward to today, the first day of school. In my mind, school means hours and hours of free time during the day. And more than free... Quiet... Ahhh...

But school brings its own kind of work.

Let me run you through what the first day of school looks like in our unique family.

6:30 

Wake everyone up

Direct traffic

Scrambled 16 eggs

Send two boys back to change (orange striped polo with blue plaid cargo shorts? Please try again)

Produce one ponytail

Pack 8 lunches (prepared the night before)

Take multiple “first day” photos

Hug, Kiss, Cheer

7:25

Andy walks six elementary schoolers, and one Joey in a wagon, to school

7:35

Two high schoolers walk out the door to their bus stop

7:38

Blend up a green smoothie (my new favorite thing) and wiggle into my gym  clothes

8:30

CrossFit with Andy - spent a lot of energy working on my push ups (in other words, I'm horrible at pushups and tried to not be so horrible at them), but showed off my awesome pistols (one-legged squats)

9:30

Chase down Joey, who has stripped himself naked while Andy and I were working out and is running wild in the parking lot (don’t worry - it is a closed parking lot and big kids were playing with him)

10:00 

Blah, blah, blah

11:00

Lunch for Jack and Joey

Put dinner in the crockpot

12:20

Naps for everyone!

1:50

Andy walks back to school to fetch kids

2:20

Chaos ensues

Papers to sign. Oh the papers to sign.

Homework

Make snack (popcorn and chocolate/peanut butter/banana/kale smoothies with coconut milk!)

Handle THREE meltdowns over reading

Listen to Joey laugh hysterically as he played “school” with our 1st grader

Sympathize with tears over missed friends (five of our kids had to move to a new school this year)

4:15

Run to Target for additional school supplies needed

Wonder why I thought school would be easier than summer

5:15

Andy plays tee ball with Jack and the kids at home

Get kids started on showers

6:15

Dinner on the table

Remind everyone AGAIN about table manners

6:45

Chores

Mayhem

Noise, noise, noise

Almost scream a number of times

7:15

“Go brush your teeth!”

Hide in the bathroom for three minutes, until patience has been calmed and prepared for the last few minutes of the day

7:30

Bedtimes stories for all! 

8:00

Send to bed

Tuck in Jack and Joey

Prayers and back scratches for the girls

Head scratches and more prayers for the boys

8:15

Find Andy for a brief hug and high-five

Quickly get the day on paper

Marvel at the sweet exhaustion of family life

8:40

Snap the laptop shut

Get out the ice cream

Watch the Olympics

9:30

Shower

Collapse in bed

10:20

Realize that I didn’t make lunches for tomorrow and decided, oh well, what’s one more thing to do tomorrow?

And that is it.

Tomorrow is another day. Another series of hours connected by joy, frustration, crazy and serene. Another day to love and make mistakes and do my very best to... do my best. 

And now, to my sweet dreams. Minus the remembering that I didn’t make lunches part. 

First Lunch Box

Yesterday was an exciting day. 

We got an email from Jack’s new preschool with the usual, “We can’t wait to meet you!” and list of what to bring on the first day.

My favorite thing on the list was a lunch box.

Ooooohhh! I get to pack a lunch for Jack!

In my mind, I am picturing one of those sweet, colorful and well-balanced bento-style lunches that will tell all of Jack’s teachers that his mom is creative, healthy and obviously is a great parent because she sends broccoli with her son to school, and he eats it!

No, Jack will not eat broccoli if I send it to school with him.

He probably won’t even eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

When he is excited Jack isn’t interested in pausing to eat. 

And boy, Jack is excited!

I read the letter to him and he thought it meant that we were going to school right then. For as many times as I told him there wasn’t anyone at the school yet, he told me that I was incorrect and that we should go check.

To help him get over having to wait (three more weeks!) we went to pick out a lunch box.

I really wanted him to have a trendy, artsy, inscribed box to carry his meals in. Preferably something with stripes in navy blue, orange and maybe some green or grey. Those are the colors cool moms send their boys to school with. 

In my deep, deep heart, I knew that we would come home with Spiderman. We don’t even watch Spiderman, yet he seems to win all the time in our house.

I even considered telling Jack we had to buy his lunch box from the computer and only showing him styles I liked.

Who am I kidding. I didn’t consider that - I did it!

I found a website with a variety of designs I approved of and used my “this is so awesome!” voice to describe each one as Jack and I looked at the pictures.

We settled on an option that Jack was really excited about, and I was willing to go for. It was aliens. But at least the aliens were navy blue, orange and green, with a little bit of grey thrown in.

AND, it came with a cool bento tupperware for all of my creative and healthy bites that would return home to me at the end of every school day.

In addition to a lunch box, it was also high on my list to get Jack some shoes, as he has spent most of the summer barefoot since we lost one of his Tom’s on a road trip to Colorado.

While at the mall hunting for (and finding!) the cutest shoes ever, we also walked past Pottery Barn Kids. Low and behold, right in their display window, were lunch boxes. We took a peek in and Jack fell in love.

His affection came to rest on a square (no thank you to the sack style, says Jack) canvas cooler. No aliens, not a stripe to be seen, not even a hint of navy blue... Just snakes.

After watching Jack clutch it and describe what he would eat from the magical snake box (broccoli was not on the list) I decided that it would be a good fit. While it was lacking in navy blue, it was heavy on the grey... And non-existent in the logo/spiderman department, which was a major plus.

We purchased it, and almost accidentally purchased an extremely overpriced water bottle to match. 

Luckily Andy was paying attention and saved us from that over-spend!

Shoes? Check.

Lunchbox? Check.

Adorable new tees and shorts? Yes indeed!

It is official. My first baby is ready for school!

Off to a good start!

It turns out that I am a really great starter, but not much of a finisher. 

I’m disappointed to learn this. Especially since the lesson has been quiet expensive. 

I probably should have realized it sooner (since Andy has been hinting at it for a while - when I told him what I was writing about he laughed really hard and said, “that’s funny!”) but some truths about ourselves are hard to accept.

In the past, whenever I’ve had to acknowledge my lack of follow through I’ve chalked it up to either too little time or too many interruptions.  There is always something outside of me to blame for my lack of followthrough. 

But, I’m noticing that there are two more more accurate reasons, ones that have to do entirely with me, that I leave some ambitions unmet.

Recently, I made an expensive start and feeble finish because my sense of self is a few days/months/years behind. 

I just spent a pretty penny on a 24-day diet challenge. 

You know, vitamins, minerals, meal shakes... It was a three week program to cleanse, energize and drop weight.

I made it about two weeks in with only minor deviance (one fourth of a cookie, a scoop of ice cream and a pina colada to be exact) from the program and discovered no changes in my weight, measurements or energy level. It was then that I discovered that as far as my body goes, I’ve hit a “set point” that I’m comfortable with. To move to a different set point in my health is going to take major adjustments. It was also then that I stopped trying - in other words, I quit. 

Truth be told,

 with just a few days left,

 I’m making my way through

 a pint of Ben and Jerry’s

 “Everything But The” ice cream,

 which is most definitely

 not allowed on the plan. 

After two years of consistently making it into the gym 3-5 times a week and training with weights I am no longer a girl who “struggles with her weight.” My sense of my body’s needs is still somewhat based on who I was, not who I’ve become. 

I could probably cut down on my consumption of chocolate and peanut butter, but I work out hard and drink lots of water. I try to eat lots of fruits and veggies and I get creative with the food I feed my family. I’m not a competitive athlete, but I am a mom who can carry both her kids at once and can bust out 100 pull ups when a workout calls for it.

Yes, I actually have done 100 pull ups.

And I’m not afraid to tell you

 how awesome it makes me feel!

The best part about my expensive flop is that I gained a much more accurate sense of who I am NOW. So, when it comes to the next offer for a vitamin pack, or when I’m tempted to make major adjustments to my diet, I hope I remember that a world of good will come from simply eating an extra serving of veggies and getting an additional hour of sleep. 

The other reason I often don’t finish things is that once I start them I realize that the end result/goal is not as important as I thought it was. Or, that the effort that is required to see something all the way through will be more than the benefit I will receive from finishing.

To illustrate...

Imagine you decide it would be cost effective and incredibly cool to make your own coconut milk yogurt instead of paying close to $2 per serving at the health food store. 

Then, imagine that to undertake this task you purchase a yogurt maker.

Then you find some recipes.

Then you make some yogurt because everyone says it is so easy and the most delicious thing you will ever eat.

Then you taste your yogurt and it is neither delicious nor actually yogurt - it is more of a warm, white soup that turns into cold, white soup after you refrigerate it. 

So then you do some more research and make a second attempt.

Second verse, same as the first.

Soup.

So, the yogurt maker goes in the garage, joining the collection of rejected small kitchen appliances. 

Because really, how many attempts should you make before you say, homemade yogurt is just not worth it?

I have a lot of unfinished business revolving around small kitchen gadgets. Other frequent visitors to my dusty shelves of “good ideas...but...” are heath food trends, craft projects, celebrations, and ambitious home organization (I get just far enough to make a huge mess, and then never get around to the final, clean and tidy part). 

Now that I’ve identified my tendency to pile up projects, I’ve been able to find some good in the midst of it. In all of my enthusiast starts and weak finishes I’ve discovered a few ways to NOT finish well.

Trust me on these, I’ve left a lot of things un-done.

Smile

Having a mountain of unfinished projects in the closet can be a little embarrassing. But the reality is, if they didn’t get finished, they probably aren’t life-changing. Let yourself be teased and acknowledge that yes, you actually don’t get everything done that you start.

Count the Cost

If you are like me, you love the idea of a package. 

I love things that come in a set, or that look pretty upon purchase. I’m a sucker for marketing and have a long list of key words that practically guarantee that I’ll whip out my wallet. 

To say that I’ve wasted money on good intentions is an understatement. However, while I know that most of us don’t WANT to waste money, I’ve found myself in a season of life that my budget isn’t terribly tight. For me that means that leaving projects unfinished isn’t going to break my bank account. 

If you are going to give up something essential to start a project you might not finish - don’t do it. The joy of unfinished projects is letting them stay unfinished without guilt - you can’t do that if you know bills didn’t get paid AND your good intentions didn’t bear fruit.

Keep Starting 

For all the things that I have begun, but not seen to the end, their are a handful of projects, hobbies and undertakings that I HAVE finished and they have become treasures to me.

If I thought of myself exclusively as someone who “fails” because I don’t finish, I would most likely miss out on many wonderful experiences. I might save some money or avoid some teasing, but my life would lack richness. 

There will be many, many, many more times that I start and don’t finish. But, if there are a few finishes that add beauty and character and charm to my life, then all of those starts are worth something.

My name is Emily, and I’m proud to be a starter.