To watch my daughter clean her room is synonymous with watching someone overflow with excitement about life. However, she hates to clean her room. I share her aversion to cleaning, but taught her early on how to push through the undesirable tasks — crank up the music!

Music has a way of offering a different focus as you do the unlikable.

As she picks up items off the floor singing away, she stops briefly when the beat hits just right so she can burst into a musical dance break. She grabs an invisible microphone as she watches herself dance in the mirror. As the music flows through the house, I cannot help but bounce, tap, and sway where I am at as well. It is infectious.

I guess it all goes back to where we put our focus. What would happen if we robbed our dislikes of their misery and just turned up the music, let loose, and danced? If you have a teen, the dancing may need to be isolated to your home so no embarrassment is inflicted upon them … or perhaps that is just how my daughter feels. 🙂

Anyone who knows me, knows I’m a bit … loud. My laugh can be heard over a crowd, my voice projects when I talk without even trying, and I can’t tell a story without standing up and showing it in action. It’s just how I am. I’ve always been a theatrical storyteller.

We recently returned from our Cancun vacation and were at the hairdressers for my daughter’s haircut. The hairdresser asked about our trip and I couldn’t just leave it at “It was good.” Instead, I began telling her the story of the day we got stuck in a flood on an island and how the next day we got severely drenched waiting 10 minutes for a bus, of which both stories provided plenty of drama itself. But I didn’t just tell the story, I stood up for a few theatrical parts, much to my daughter’s dismay.

I believe it was around the time I was “slopping” behind the salon chair making squishing sound effects as the hairdresser laughed, that my daughter said, “MOM!” and gave me the look of please sit down.

On the ride home, she said, “Mom, your stories are really funny, but let’s face it — you’re rather loud. I think everyone in the salon heard and saw you tell the story.”

I of course laughed and said, “I probably cheered someone up in that room that needed a good laugh today.”

“But we don’t know the rest of those people,” she said.

I proceeded to remind her that this is just how God wired me and the way I’ve always told stories and events. She echoed–much to her dismay–she does the same thing. We both laughed.

Rather than try to be like everyone else, be your uniquely different self. Who knows, you might even brighten someone else’s day.

Have you ever noticed that spring has an obvious affect on people? Neighbors venture outdoors. Smiles abound. Attitudes lift. Deep cleaning desires surface.

A few weeks ago I enjoyed seeing warmer weather hint at the end to a long winter. My daughter retrieved her shorts from the closet. My hubby cleaned out the garage. Our dog loved her walk and the white blanket in our yard finally melted into the ground. Finally another season gestured its arrival.

Then the next day it was as if I’d been catapulted to Alaska — I looked outside shocked to see snowflakes the size of crumpled tissues falling to the ground. Okay, maybe a little smaller than crumpled tissues, but they were enormous! My energized outlook quickly melted.

I don’t know about you, but I often find myself looking forward to the next thing (which in this case is warmer weather) rather than enjoying whatever the here and now brings (which right now is a forecast of more snow). It isn’t that looking ahead is bad, but I find that if I don’t arrive at a balance, it can taint my outlook on today.

So today I choose to ignore the newly fallen branches and scattered leaves in the backyard urging us to rake once again and I refuse to allow the approaching storm to affect my mood. Instead I will grab a sweater and slippers, and see what fun unfolds indoors today with my family. After all, soon warmer weather will be here to stay and I’ll get my fill.

Yesterday morning I sat in a coffee shop to do some work and savor a dark-roasted coffee. It wasn’t long before mothers with young children arrived in packs, pushing tables together and doing their best to maintain crowd control.

Children hopped from table to table to find the best one and the most comfortable seat — even though each table had the same chairs. One little boy insisted the 2-person table he chose was the best, no matter how much his mother tried to persuade him the 4-person table next to them would fit the three of them better. That was until they sat down, the mother took off her coat, and got situated. Then at that very moment, the little boy hopped up and moved to a chair at the 4-person table announcing, “I’m sitting over here!”

I chuckled. I remembered when my daughter was that little. I found myself smiling at the mothers, amused by this little boy, and at the same time touched by the excitement and adventure of the other little ones in the coffee shop.

My quiet haven for working turned into a romping room full of chatter and disgruntled children from time to time, but I didn’t mind. I think God gifted mothers in that way–we can tune out the noise to accomplish some things, but yet at the same time be relentlessly in tune with the noise to know when to pay closer attention. Right?

It was my few moments of not being on Mom Patrol so I was in my little corner of solitude in spite of the commotion. Since these young ones weren’t my responsibility, I tuned out the noise. But not before I was reminded of the camaraderie mothers need.

There is something about walking alongside another woman who’s either in the same season of life, or has just moved into the next. It’s refreshing, hopeful, engaging, and let’s face it … it’s downright enjoyable to actually have an adult conversation!

Most of the moms who arrived, came with a friend. While one mother went to place her order, the other occupied the children. It was simple, yet understood teamwork 

We need other women around us – no matter what season of life we are in. There are also times we need our solitude, even if it’s small increments of time where we can set down our Mom Patrol duty and just be.

So what do you need today? Pick up the phone and call a friend. Or if you need to, retreat to the bathroom if that’s the only solitude available. It’s okay — you’ll know when to tune back in … a two-year-old’s silence is always a good clue.

Happy New Year! We had a wonderful two-week Christmas break — no homeschooling, slept in, went sledding, attended holiday festivities and parties, ate foods we don’t normally eat, stayed up late, built snowmen, and played endless games. I’m all for spontaneity, adventure, and new things … but there is a time when the routine brings refreshment. This week would be one of those times.

After meals of leftovers, appetizers, and endless munching, today I cooked. Now I didn’t think that was such a major feat, until the aroma floated from the oven to my daughter’s bedroom.

“Mom, what are you cooking?” she said.

“A turkey and wild rice.”

“Really? Right now? It’s in the oven? You promise that’s what’s for dinner?”

As soon as I said ‘yes,’ she squealed in delight just like when she opened her karaoke machine at Christmas. I didn’t realize a home-cooked meal rated up there so high. Then it hit me … we’re back to routine and I’m cooking nightly again.

So as I sit here tonight with my candles lit, my door shut, and my soft instrumental music strumming in the background, I’m renewed, refreshed … and grateful to be back to my evening writing time too.

There sure is something wonderful about routines — especially after a break. Maybe it’s that we go back to our daily life refreshed and what we saw with sunken eyes and dark circles two weeks ago as drudgery or obstacles, today is viewed with fresh insight and smells like a new outlook.

Whatever it is — enjoy the moment!