Measuring success

Per the advice of my wise spouse, I decided to change the way I approach goal setting. Instead of vague ideas that never get fully accomplished and result in an endless spiral of self-doubt, I set out to be specific in what I hope to achieve and establish solid, realistic plans.

The house is better. Most of the time. We spent an afternoon purging the back room of our basement, which mostly contained empty boxes and other random things that never quite made it to where they were supposed to go. I cleaned out J's closet and donated several bags of winter clothing to a local charity. (SMART goal: to organize one space in the house and carry at least one bag/box of things out of the house). I've been consciously trying to end each morning and evening with a clean counter - which has been great for my psyche, but I haven't quite been able to get the rest of the family on board with helping out in that arena, which leaves me a bit frustrated. So that one is a work in progress I guess.

My health is better. I decided to do a thirty day yoga challenge for the month of January. It didn't start out so well, however, because I spent all of January 2nd in bed with a stomach bug. Determined to get back on track, I did days two and three on day three and managed to finish out the month strong. In fact today is the first day I haven't gotten up to exercise, but I gave myself the day off as a reward. My body is sore, but it feels good overall and I'm proud of myself for sticking to the challenge and actually getting out of bed with my alarm. Hopefully that feeling will keep me motivated to continue.

My writing.... oh dear. We seem to have arrived at an impasse. The good news is that I put myself out there for an online writing conference and with my critique group. They've even offered to workshop my entire novel. !! The bad news is I've been riding that annoying emotional roller coaster again, you know the one. Where you feel like you could conquer the world one moment and the next you are doubting why you ever tried to put word to page. Maybe it's because I am no longer drafting in the quiet silence of my office, surrounded by post-it notes and a sense of purpose. Now I am sending my baby out into the world to be picked apart and analyzed, and while I know it is a necessary part of the process and I NEED HELP fixing elements of the story, it does not make it any less terrifying. I much prefer the creative, locked in the room part of this journey. New projects swirl around in my head, but getting them down and going in a direction of some sort, well that's another story. In order to accomplish my SMART goal of sending out (some number - silly me wrote it in the letter, then stuffed it into my stocking without writing it down anywhere else... 20 maybe?) queries, I need to get DOW into better shape. Particularly the query letter, which currently stinks. Sigh. I did enter one writing contest and will receive feedback in May. And I'm trying to be helpful and encouraging to other writers. I really like my new critique group and am making new friends online.

My life in general is... better I guess? I decided to try acupuncture again and went for my first appointment last week. No overnight miracles, but I am hoping it will help get me on a more even keel. The new job is going well, although I feel a little overwhelmed by all there is to learn. Very much loving the shorter commute and lack of stressful traffic!! But I miss my old co-workers and students. Working in a cubicle is strange - kinda like sitting alone in an airport terminal. It can be incredibly lonely despite being able to hear the conversations of people all around you. Maybe even because of them? I don't know exactly... it's an adjustment.

Faithful readers: I hope 2017 is going well for you. It is not an easy place to exist right now, but I hope we can all find positive things to focus on. In an effort to help spread love instead of hate, our family committed to supporting a different local charity each month with both our time and resources. And here are a few more things I'm committing to this month:

• Send entire MS to critique group
• Plot new story
• Try a different exercise video series each week - and work out at least five mornings
• Recycle old/broken electronics
• Give myself credit (not measurable, I know... but something I need to work on)

I'll pop back in with an update next month, and hopefully will have a post or two in between. Cheers!

Letters to myself

Last weekend we unpacked the Christmas boxes and began to decorate the house. My favorite things about the holiday season are our family traditions, and one of those traditions is to write a letter to your future self and hide it in your Christmas stocking. We did it for a few years when I was a kid, and I remember reading over highlights from the previous year, my current faves (which were somehow no longer cool a short twelve months later), and the list of things I hoped to accomplish. My boys love this part, writing things like, "Ride the Viper" and "Play video games for 100 hours". When boxes appear from the back corner of the basement, I excitedly search for the one containing our four stockings, and pull the letters out like buried treasure.

The letters are meant to be a snapshot of the year and an encouraging way to look at all we've accomplished as a family and individually. But sometimes they make me sad. When I was substitute teaching year after year, the letters would ask if I'd found a permanent position yet. Now that I've been querying, the letters ask if I've found an agent. And every single year I vow to be more organized, vow to really, truly purge the house and live with less.

Spoiler alert: I left the teaching world, am still searching for an agent, and the house isn't any cleaner.

But every year I give my future self a little pep talk.
From 2009: "Take care of everyone. And remember to take care of yourself."
From 2010: "Remember that you are a great mom, a devoted wife, a dedicated teacher, and fabulous woman!"
From 2013: "C'mon girl, you CAN finish things! Really and truly!"
From 2014: "Love yourself every day - despite the wrinkles and sagging bits, despite the incessant need to procrastinate. Despite the cynicism."

Last year I even acknowledged that my goal setting often falls short. "Every year you make goals for yourself. Some you reach while others fall by the wayside. That's okay. You need to forgive yourself and move on. Change what you can - change what you can CONTROL. In other words, let others be who they are going to be and focus on being the best you in that moment."

How's that going you ask? Eh. I was sad for several hours after reading the letters because not much has changed in the past year. The truth is, we can't escape our weaknesses - no matter how hard we try to cheerlead them away. There is an underlying current of jealousy in these letters, of wanting what others have and I don't, and it feels dirty.

Last night I attended a book launch for a new writing friend. Her book is beautiful (I read an Advanced Review Copy - one of the perks of being immersed in the writing world), the room was packed full of people who love and support her, and I was happy to be able to share in her moment. But right before I left I said to hubs, "I understand that saying now - the one about always being a bridesmaid and never a bride." It's impossible not to feel the "when will it be my turn?" feelings at book launches, impossible not to sit there and imagine my own book launch, imagine where it will be and if my mother will still be alive to make trays of Italian cookies. Maybe the green-eyed monster is a good thing. Maybe he'll keep me motivated. Maybe I need to look at the positives in my letters to self instead of worrying about what I didn't accomplish.

From 2015: "I'm making a promise to have DEVELOPING OUR WINGS finished in the next six months. To be a better blogger and continue to encourage others."
I finished my rough draft in early April and just completed the first full round of revisions.
My blog entries were at an all time low this year, and I'm pretty sure no one even reads this little life chronicle - but I've been at it for EIGHT YEARS. And in my world of not following through, that's a pretty huge accomplishment.
Do I encourage others? I hope so. Maybe not all the time, maybe not with shouts from the rooftop.

But I keep trying. Because lifting others up makes everyone feel good. So here's some advice from past Sandis:
To all you other writers out there - "Keep writing, hon - there are so many great stories inside you."
To the parents - "You are a good mom [dad]. Have faith in your children."
To everyone who worries all the time, who thinks they are doing too much, or not enough - "Relax. Let things be - you can do it and the world will still revolve."
To the world, especially now: "Love more."

GOALS! What are they good for? Absolutely Nothing!

Wait.

That is no way to motivate somebody.

It's January third. Right about now there are people everywhere feeling gung-ho about their new year's resolutions. But give it time. Because while some may actually change their behavior, most of us fall short of what we originally intend when we make our drunken promises to the universe on December 31. In other words, we fail.

Example: Every year I swear that I am finally going to get organized, to purge my house of unwanted things and live simpler. It's actually become a running joke with my future self in the annual Christmas stocking letter. I got really close once. Read an article in one of my mom's magazines about how you need to assign a week to each section of your house and go through every space, showing your useless crap no mercy. In six weeks your house would be free of clutter. I made amazing progress until I got to our den and was hit with the brick wall of SO. MUCH. PAPERWORK.

And then I quit.

Because goals are hard, especially the ones that try to re-shift our entire way of thinking/living. And at some point you may need to accept something about yourself that is less than perfect, and that's okay. But it doesn't stop you from making the same goal over and over again. I tried again last year, with a book about decluttering, a new calendar, and a promise to myself that this time it would be different. It wasn't. I barely scratched the surface. Or dusted it for that matter.

Is it healthy for us to constantly try to fix what we, or others, think is wrong with our bodies, houses, lives in general? What if, instead of setting goals that focus on some unattainable perfection that would likely leave us miserable, we set goals that are bite sized, within reach, and fit within the confines of who we are naturally meant to be? I'm not saying don't challenge yourself. Challenging yourself is good. Push outside the comfort zone every once in a while. But don't be ashamed if you have to crawl right back in. Growth is best made in baby steps rather than huge leaps. In my opinion anyway.

More importantly, have a strong support network. One of the other goals that I routinely set for myself is to let go of fear. This may seem very fluffy and over generalized, but I have a lot of very specific, very irrational fears. Sometimes I am forced to get over them, at least to a degree that allows me to function (somewhat) normally. One of my many fears: Phone calls. Most introverts will join me in the joy that is text messaging - the ability to communicate without having to dial someone's number and wait for them to answer, secretly hoping it will go to voice mail but then talking so randomly when voice mail answers that you sound like an idiot. When I interviewed for my current job I was asked to name something I don't like to do. Easy. Talk on the phone. Well, my former boss thought maybe I needed to get over that and she had me making phone calls ALL THE TIME. Each one required pre-call practicing and "I can do this" mantras and was accompanied by a racing heart and sweaty palms. It's better now, but I'm by no means "cured". My husband recognizes this about me, has helped me celebrate my progress, and happily dials for take out so that I don't have to.

He also knows that social interactions with strangers are not easy for me. Today after church we needed to sign up for a newcomer's group and the hubs announced, "I'll go get the kids, you sign up." Not sign up on a sheet, mind you, but talk to the guy at the information desk. I stood in the hallway for a few minutes and contemplated running into the bathroom and telling hubs that I just couldn't hold it and could he please sign us up? But I knew what he was trying to do; I felt his gentle shove. Took a deep breath and did it. (In two hours we have to actually GO to the event and talk to more strangers, but baby steps...)

If you want to change, have someone on your side who knows exactly how gently you need to be shoved.

Another example: Two years ago I participated in a writing challenge for the new year. As per usual, I didn't make it all the way through. But I made some amazing virtual friends who have supported my journey and make me smile when I need it most. This past November I did a lighter version of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month - where writers attempt to complete the first draft of a novel in one month) called WipMo which allowed participants to set their own goals and work at a pace that fit their current needs. I rocked it and was so fueled by my success that I set the same goals for December. Butt in chair at least three days a week and 2500 words or more.

And then I quit.

All those zeros are really depressing. And even more depressing was facing my extended family who all asked how the book was coming. It's easy to get discouraged and throw in the towel. Convince myself that there is no way I can regain momentum. Goals can do that to a person. Make them give up and not want to bother.

But we have to be resilient. To accept who we are, figure out where we want to be, and how to maintain enough motivation and heart to get us there. Will I ever be one of those people I envy on Twitter who crank out a thousand words+ a day? No. Is it reasonable to blame the holidays and forgive myself for slacking off and then vow to get back on track by locking myself in my writing room until the zeros disappear? Yes. Will social interactions continue to rattle my heart like a caged animal? Yes. Am I going to let that stop me from living? That would be foolish. Will my house ever be completely clutter free? When we move out, sure. Until then, not likely. Can I focus instead on having one or two organized spaces and shoving everything else into the den and shutting the door? Sounds like a plan.

Good luck with your resolutions, whatever they may be. I'm off to end the zeros.

Falling off the wagon

I've fallen off the writing wagon. Not completely, I still attend my weekly Wednesday night writer's group (I love those ladies!) and participate in the occasional write club sprint on Friday, but my productivity has dropped tremendously in the past month or so. Basically I started to fall off the wagon and am currently holding on to the bumper (do wagons even have bumpers?) with one hand, knees scraping the ground, dirt in my face. You get the idea. The problem is [INSERT EXCUSE HERE] that I started working for the first time in nearly a year, the kids finished school and are home full time, and it feels like a million other things landed on my plate, demanding my attention like a colicky baby. Oh, and the World Cup. A girl's gotta have her soccer.

June came and went with not a single writing goal met. Not. One. Single. Goal. Granted I am working on revisions, which makes keeping up with my intended word count a bit difficult, but the other stuff? It just didn't happen. And here we are, nearly halfway through July, and I am still trailing behind the wagon. Thankfully I have people in my life who are helping me get back on. My crit partner (whom I have woefully neglected lately) encourages me with emails and twitter posts. The Wednesday ladies help with story planning and talking me off the ledge when I'm deep in revision. But during all the times in between, my notebook sits on the counter, slowly getting covered in day to day clutter. It makes me sad. Writing takes me to a place in my mind where I can run away from reality, create a world and have complete control. Maybe that's the problem. The story is done, and now it's time to go in with scissors, cutting out the parts that don't flow, stuffing in news ones and hoping they fit. It's hard. Sure, I complained about stuff being hard before, but it feels like each step in steeper, and I know the true mountain is still ahead of me. There is no way I can hold on to the wagon bumper and make it to the top. I need to get back on. I need to climb up onto the hay covered seats, push the driver out of the way and take the reins. Get control. It is the only way to survive the ride.

We are all teamsters on our journey, whether it be writing or some other pursuit. Life tosses boulders into our path and we choose to either fall off or maneuver around them. I haven't quite figured out how to maneuver around my current situation, but I am determined to get a handle on time management and carve out time to sit and write. Like right now; it's Friday night and I am sprinting along with the write clubbers, rocking to dance music in my headphones while hubby watches TV. A large chunk of my book was written this way. Scenes started out slow, then grew as the world opened up in front of me. There is nothing that replaces that feeling.

I've made promises on this blog before, and I'm not foolish enough to believe that I won't fall off again. July goals are still quite far out of reach, and the remaining days of the month do not hold much promise. I'm heading to sleep away camp with my oldest next week, we have a family vacation coming, and I'm required to make up any hours I miss, which translates to a lot of time spent at work. But right now, in this moment, I am making progress. Both hands are gripped tightly on the wagon and I am using all my strength to pull myself up.

Watch out. Crazy writer on the road.

Setting It Aside

Last Friday I finished the first draft of my novel. It was a momentous occasion on several fronts. First of all, it is not very often that I actually finish something as evidenced by my half-completed cross-stitch projects and other adventures that I dive into but then quickly set aside. Secondly, and probably most important: I WROTE A BOOK. How many people out there say, "I think I'll write a book someday" or "I have this great idea for a book"? Hint: LOTS. I was one of them. Writing has always been a passion and while I never imagined I would have the attention span to complete an actual novel (see above) it was always in the back of my mind as something I wanted to accomplish. Several years ago when I was teaching seventh graders, the students had to create a timeline of their lives that extended into the future. My co-teacher and I each made our own timeline as well to serve as a model. "Wrote a Book" was on there (although I should have sold it and be touring morning talk shows by now) and it feels good to think that I have actually accomplished a life goal. No, it doesn't feel good. It feels AWESOME.

Which brings me to the topic of this post. Several writing books instruct that upon completion of draft one, the author should set the story aside and let it stew for a while before beginning revisions. It makes sense in theory - that way when you approach draft two your mind is fresh and clear. That was totally my plan. But after two days I started re-reading. It wasn't as if I hadn't already done some major revisions thus far - the introductory chapters have been re-written several times - but it was the first time I would be reading the whole thing from start to finish. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to hear how everything flowed and do a quick proofread before sending it off to critique partners. When I finished reading, the cat nearly jumped out of her fur at my loud proclamation. "THE WORLD NEEDS THIS BOOK!"

After that first read-through, I am ready to follow directions and let my book rest for a week or two, maybe three and work on something else. Partly because I want to wait and see what my first round of readers think, but mostly because I want to revel in the glow of my current emotional state. I'm beginning to see why writing gurus recommend waiting. The feeling is hard to describe, but it is pretty darn incredible. As of this moment, I am the only person who has read my book, and I happen to think it is good. Really good. The fact that it all came out of my brain makes it even better. Maybe it is actually crap and I am being totally delusional. It may be my friends and family that burst my bubble, it may be the long string of rejection that are sure to pepper my future. My book could be downright terrible. (Hopefully it's not.) But I had an idea two years ago, then life got tired of me saying, "I'm writing a book" without actually writing it and yanked away my proverbial rug, forcing me to write it for real. I did. And I am going to enjoy this feeling of accomplishment for as long as I can.

Perhaps the same concept can apply to other things. How often do we beat ourselves up for bad things that have happened, mistakes made or friendships destroyed? When something good happens, when we do something right, something incredible, we should set it aside and dance around it. Blast the music. Toss confetti into the air. Celebrate it fully.

Please excuse me while I crank the stereo.

Gold Stars

Maybe it's the teacher in me. The endless hours of college classes, new teacher trainings, and inservices. The parenting books and magazines I've devoured over the past eight years. Perhaps it is rooted in my own desire to figure out how to change myself and be a better person. Whatever the reason, one thing is clear. I am obsessed with motivation. What motivates my students to learn something new? What motivates my children to behave? What motivates my husband to help with housework? What motivates me to stop procrastinating and get things done?
I've always been fascinated by internal motivation (I want to do this because there is a desire within me) versus external motivation (I want to do this because there is a shiny thing waiting for me) and the role they play in our journey to becoming happy and productive members of society. Many of my students would scoff at a challenge, asking, "What will you give me?" or "Will we be graded on this?" and I worry that the same thing may happen to my boys. It seems like every little action is rewarded these days, and I want them to learn that sometimes you do something simply because it makes you feel good. Click. Internal motivation.
But that doesn't always work. The truth is, we are way more motivated by external forces, especially when it comes to doing things that we don't like, or pushing ourselves out of our comfort zone. Things that make us happy, that make us feel good, we do them. No problem. I love to read. Put a book in my hands and I will retreat to my favorite chair and read it. No rewards necessary. But take a student or child who hates books (gasp) or has difficulty reading, and external motivation may be required. At my son's school a local amusement park is offering a free ticket for any student who reads seven hours in two weeks. That's 30 minutes a day. For my child, who reads in the car, the bathroom, his bedroom, at breakfast (you get the idea) that is no problem. We log the minutes and collect the ticket. Easy peasy. But I can imagine in other households, where daily reading is a challenge, the dangling reward may be a strong external motivator. Is it wrong to use these types of motivators?
While reading is not a challenge in our family, there are definitely areas where my boys need an extra push. They are often described by their teachers as having "high-energy" which is the polite way to say they never. Stop. Moving. Or talking. Fine by me, really. My education background gave me a bag full of tricks to pull from when trying to reign in my rowdy children. P responded really well to time-outs as a toddler and learned quickly that no means no and Mommy really means it when she threatens to take something away if you don't pick it up. When he entered school, the negative consequences for poor choices started to pile up and he spent more and more time in punishment (especially in first grade). Then I started thinking about my many inservices and how positive reinforcement is really the only way to change behavior. Enter external motivation. This year P has the opportunity to earn weekday video game privileges (we have a no screen policy Monday-Thursday) for staying on task and getting a positive report at school, and I recently started up a similar program for our youngest. It isn't a perfect system. Slip ups happen. But overall things are getting better.
That brings me to adult motivation. How many of us set resolutions at the beginning of the year, or at some point when we feel like we JUST HAVE TO CHANGE? Change is hard. Yesterday I stumbled upon a home repair to-do list from our previous house stuffed into an old notebook. On the back was a chart of household chores, how often they needed to be done and who would do them. "How many times have we tried that?" I asked my husband. He laughed. "They never work," he said. He's right, they don't. I had to chuckle, pointing at yet another chart I recently made for myself and hung on our cluttered fridge. In my Christmas letter I emphatically promised to follow through with my resolutions and goals for the year. And so far, (pats self on back) I am doing well. My writing goals are straight forward and achievable. In both January and February I met my goals and promptly gave myself a gold star. Seeing the stickers and the little checked boxes makes me feel good. It seems to me that no matter how old we are, it feels good to be rewarded for something you've accomplished. My husband is right, there is no perfect chore chart. But the house looks better than it has and we haven't fought about who cleans what. He lives by the philosophy: if it annoys me, I'll clean it (his words) and I am just trying to make sure the house isn't swallowed up by cat hair, the bathrooms don't smell like pee and everyone has clean underwear.
At the end of the day, we will ultimately be accountable to ourselves. Are my boys behaving well in school simply because they like playing video games during the week, while some other kids are only reading because they want to ride the roller coasters for free this summer? Maybe. Am I only writing this blog entry to earn my gold star at the end of the month? Maybe. But if what you need is that little external push to get the wheels moving, does it really matter?