Author: Allie P.

Wake up to a new and improved you

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

The sun had set Tuesday evening and I informed my son that it once again time for him to go to bed. Normally he moans and groans. “I’m not tired!” he’ll complain. “Five more minutes!” or “I just want to finish this show!” He doesn’t realize that the more he whines, the more convinced I am that bedtime has arrived. But Tuesday was complaint free – he was eager to go to bed.

Of course even though he wasn’t fighting me, we still weren’t completely able to take the express route to his bedroom. Instead we had to stop at each and every room of our house (excepting his brother’s because no one disturbs toddlerland after lights out.) At each stop, he would look into the room and say, “Goodbye [insert room name]. You are never going to see this five-year-old again.”

A wee bit melodramatic? Maybe. The ultimate bedtime manipulation? Perhaps, but he was just telling the room the truth. Upon Wednesday morning, the person emerging from his bedroom would be six.

I had to envy him a little. In his mind he was going to go to sleep a child, but would transform overnight into a more mature and capable version of himself. Someone who magically would now be able to handle more responsibility than ever before. Someone who would be instantly wiser. Kiddo 6.0 – now with even more confidence!

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could all wake up one morning and suddenly be better than the person we were the night before?

A couple of days ago, I came across an article on the most viewed TED talks of all time, one of which was by Shawn Achor on the happy secret to better work. I’d seen it before, but it has an intriguing message at its core, and is entertaining enough to watch again. So I did.

“See what we’re finding is it’s not necessarily the reality that shapes us, but the lens through which your brain views the world that shapes your reality. And if we can change the lens, not only can we change your happiness, we can change every single educational and business outcome at the same time.”

In his presentation, he argues that sustained happiness is not achieved by success. Instead it is happiness that creates success. So just be happy.

He makes it sound so easy. A kid can be happy for no other reason than he or she was named line leader for the day, but it can be difficult to remember how to appreciate the small joys once you’ve fallen out of the habit. Difficult, but if Shawn Achor’s stats are accurate, worth the effort.

Some of the most common tips for how to gain sustained happiness and self-confidence are to act positively and dream big. Considering a good night’s sleep directly correlates with my ability to do both of these things, my son’s way of thinking might not be that far off. Maybe I do just need to worry less about success and sleep more. Even if I don’t wake to overnight millions, at least I am better rested.

So success –  instead of chasing you, I’m going to try snuggling under the covers and appreciating where I am. When you are ready, you’ll know where to find me.

A foolish man seeks happiness
click on images for attribution

What have you done with your extra hour?

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

The inventor of Daylight Savings Time obviously was not a family man, or at least he wasn’t the primary caregiver. If he was, he would never have proposed a system in which children under the age of thirteen are expected to go to bed or expected to stay in bed after waking up an hour differently from what they are accustomed to. Mine, like so many others, don’t take the change well. The following day is almost assured to be a cranky day. This year, Daylight Savings Time ended the same weekend as Halloween. We also had a cold front roll in combined with rain. Extreme sugar induced mood swings, time change crankiness, and all of us forced to stay inside, what could be better?!

We had allowed our boys to stay up late the evening before the change with the hope that they might sleep in an extra hour the following day. While this plan has never once worked, we always remain hopeful. By the time things had quieted down, the hubby and I were exhausted. My hubby turned to me and asked, what would you do if you had an extra hour? Without waiting for my response, he told me his answer. “Imagine nine hours of sleep.”

I will admit that the idea of nine hours of sleep each night did sound heavenly at the time. Earlier in the week, our toddler chose to wake in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. Extra time for sleep would be the ultimate luxury, or so I thought Saturday evening. On Sunday, the rain had passed and a look out the window showed a beautiful Fall day. While I drank my morning coffee, I found myself thinking, what would I do, really?

An extra hour every day equates into essentially an extra three years over a lifetime. Would I really want to spend that time in bed, or would I take that time and do something more exciting? Then again, would I even be allowed to spend that time on myself, or would I be expected to spend that extra time in the office? As the saying goes, nature abhors a vacuum. If I didn’t find a use of those extra sixty minutes, I am pretty confident that someone or something else would fill it for me.

I often think that life would be so much easier if there were more hours in the day, but is that really the truth or an opportunity for more stress to enter into my life?

Perhaps it might be better to examine the flip side of the question. If I had one less hour everyday, what would I be willing to sacrifice? If the answer to that comes to mind easily, then what is stopping me from letting it go today and gaining that extra hour tomorrow?

What is stopping you?

Time is what we want the most

Every journey begins with a little risk

by Allie P., posted in Book Stuff and Publishing News, Indie book promotion, Life as I know it

Witch head nebula
Even the universe has its Halloween decorations up. [The witch head nebula]
Residents on the East Coast of the United States were informed that a privately owned supply rocket would be launching off the coast of Virginia just after sunset on Monday and it might be visible several states over as it ascended.

Although I have gone down a completely different career path, at one point I had dreamed of being an astronaut. The vastness of space continues to fascinate me. Therefore I was more than a little excited when I read about this event.

I set a reminder, and at launch time herded the family outside so that we could all stare towards the horizon. The hubby and I thought we saw something pass across the sky. Our eldest tried to follow where we pointed but saw nothing. The rocket was only expected to be visible for three minutes. Our son’s lip began to quiver as we told him that he’d probably missed it.

Eager to avert kiddo’s breakdown we ran inside and turned on the streaming footage, only to be confused to see a very large rocket still on the launch pad. The news broke that the launch was scrubbed. A civilian in a boat had gotten too close to the rocket. Like the Minnow in Gilligan’s Island, had the rocket launched as planned, the tiny ship would have been lost. What we had seen was only a high flying plane.

Terrible news for NASA, but awesome news for us. I told my son there would be a do over!

It was announced that the launch would take place the following day. Unfortunately Tuesday evening had significantly more cloud cover. It was highly unlikely we would see anything, but we tried anyway. Several minutes passed once again with my family out on the lawn looking at the sky.

Nothing.

Orbital Sciences Antares Launch
Not my favorite kind of firework

Back inside, I cued up NASA footage only to see the remnants of a large fire-ball. The voice over the footage announced that there had been a catastrophic accident. My son, who had already ‘missed’ one launch looked to me and asked, “what happened mom?”

I hate to age myself, but I remember being in school when the Challenger Space Shuttle blew up. I was almost exactly the same age as my son is now. We had been watching it live in class. All the teachers were excited because one of their own was a crewman. I remember not quite understanding that the footage I was watching was abnormal or tragic. My teacher hurried to turn off the television as they were forced to explain concepts we weren’t quite ready for.

Thankfully in this instance, the mission was unmanned, saving me from a more complicated conversation with my son. The only damage then when the rocket exploded was material, and he is well aware of the concept of stuff breaking. But the entire event serves as a reminder that there is always a risk of failure whenever you attempt to venture into the unknown, no matter how well you have planned and prepared. And yet, without those willing to take those risks, we would not be able to communicate with those on the other side of the world at the speed of light nor would we have infrared ear thermometers (which both my youngest and I are grateful for) or be able to sleep easy with memory foam.

“The thing that’s important is that we don’t overreact,” William Gerstenmaier, NASA’s associate administrator of human explorations and operations. “I don’t see this as a problem or a concern for us in the future. It’s just more awareness of what we’re trying to go do and it’s not easy.”

There is always the risk of failure in anything worth doing, but there is always an opportunity to learn, and that’s still a gain even if it isn’t necessarily the one you were aiming for.

15455863230_2a4fa47955_zToday marks my blog’s first anniversary. I began it as a way to help promote my first book, An Uncertain Faith. When I hit that publish button for the first time, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but to date it has been worth the risk. I’ve been able to connect with an extremely supportive community who have been willing to share their own pains and triumphs. I’ve also learned a lot about myself in the process.

Now I am taking another risk. I will be relaunching An Uncertain Faith in November under a different publishing label. As a result, my novel’s first edition will be unavailable for sale for a time. This was not an easy decision, I hate to risk the momentum I’ve been able to gain to date, but I found it to be a necessary one. But I have high hopes that this decision will prove to be  less catastrophic, and a more rewarding launch than the events of this week.

Always earned, never given

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it

Always Earned Never GivenThis weekend, we traveled to Washington DC as my husband was participating once again in the Marine Corps Marathon. Last year it had been a challenge to entertain my boys on my own for those several hours. This year, my mom offered to join us. I gratefully accepted thinking, reinforcements have arrived!

The race finishes in Arlington National Cemetery at the Iwo Jima Monument. As participants complete the course, a Marine hands them a medal signifying that they are a finisher. Then the racers are funneled through a gated walkway out of the cemetery and into a street festival where they can celebrate.

A marathon takes several hours to complete, even if you are faster than the average runner.  By the time the hubby neared the final stretch, my boys had lost all interest in watching other people run by and had begun looking for other means to amuse themselves such as running off into crowds, my 5yo spearing his brother’s lunch with a stick before his brother could eat it, my 2yo kicking (and screaming at) the fence, or both becoming one with black street dirt. I had hoped to catch up with some old friends while we were in town, but now all I wanted to do was get the kids back to the home.

A couple approached us. They had recognized my sons from the evening before and wanted to know how everything was going. Oh dear, I thought to myself, my kid’s antics were gaining the attention of random passersby.

I received a text message from the hubby letting me know he was done and that he was “trying to get out.” I knew he was. I had been tracking his progress all morning with two smart phone apps. I wrote him back, “Try harder :).” I can be delightfully supportive sometimes.

We could have taken the Metro (subway) back to our hotel. But instead we chose to walk back to our hotel via the cemetery. As we made our way through the gates, I overheard a race official announce that spectators were not to enter the track and could not run those final yards in support of their racer. I guess some people had been even less patient to be reunited with their loved ones than my boys had been. He said, “we love you, and we are glad you are here, but you have not earned the right to enter the track.”

Even though I was not on the race course, I thought to myself, I beg to differ with you. I might not have run, but the last several hours had hardly been easy. Nor had been the several days of solo parenting leading up to this event that I experienced while the hubby was out training. I had my share of tears, exhaustion, and aching muscles. The only difference is I didn’t get a number on my shirt for my effort.

English: Section 31 at Arlington National Ceme...

The path descended down a hill. To our right were rows upon rows of tidy, uniform gravestones. Monuments towered ahead and to our left. It was an amazing view and put the last several hours back into needed perspective.

Marathon medals are advertised as always earned and never given. They are earned through hard work and sacrifice. But in this case, the marathon poster has it backwards. I might have sacrificed my mornings in support of my hubby, but we were surrounded by the evidence of those strangers who had given more for my family than I ever have. And now it falls on us to deserve that gift.

To that very nice couple at the fence, we made it home and are quite fine now. My boys should be back to their adorable selves shortly. To those that serve or have served, thank you!

 

The day the coffee pot went dry – a horror story

by Allie P., posted in Life as I know it
Anyone can hold the helm
While I agree with the message, this image creeps me out

It started out like any other day at my office. Staff trickled in and immediately made their way to the break room to pour that first cup of coffee. We have one of those on demand machines hooked up to the main water line. It is usually nice because no one has to wait for a new pot to brew. Then it happened. The machine broke.

We have a spare machine for just these sort of emergencies. It was immediately hooked up and brought on-line. Disaster should have been diverted, except, the back-up too soon proved to be out of service. It didn’t take long before my usually calm, collected, and professional colleagues devolved into crazed individuals as the news spread. No coffee. How could we possible conduct business! Our vice president joked that he was considering closing the whole office down for the day. At least I think he was joking.

I typically bring a large travel mug of my own from home as the machine’s settings, which we are not authorized to change (the machine could break after all), don’t match my personal tastes. It was easy then to shake my head in judgement at my co-worker’s melodrama as I sipped on deliciousness from my mug. That is, it was easy until another half hour passed without a plan C. Suddenly it was like I was starring in the plot of a post-apocalyptic story. In an office filled with the walking dead, I was one of the few fully awake. The sounds I heard as colleagues stumbled to their desks certainly were in line with the sounds zombies make on film.

I barricaded myself behind my desk like any good survivor should. I knew that any sign of perkiness or alertness would give away my status as a ‘have’ in a world of ‘have-nots.’ It would make me a target for immediate attack. Meanwhile the moans and groans outside my door grew louder. Just as it appeared the day would be lost entirely, a hero emerged.

That hero was our executive administrative assistant. She valiantly journeyed home only to return with her household coffee maker. The break room had already claimed two machines, but she was willingly to sacrifice her own for the greater good. Caffeine flowed freely once again. We were saved! Life in the office was able to return to normal. If some might start squirreling away a little instant, who can blame them. We all learned a little about ourselves (and the company we keep) that day.

There isn’t much of a moral to this story, other than crisis being one of life’s best/worst teachers.