How can a pile of dirty hoodies, yoga pants and little slips of elastic that now pass as underwear be considered a gift? I often cringe when a mound of smelly laundry suddenly appears next to the washing machine. It is one of those never-ending tasks where you never seem to catch up. It's easy to settle into a state of resignation, even frustration, over this particular household task that never seems to be done. But all it takes is a tiny shift in mindset to look at those piles in an entirely new light. I experienced this recently when it dawned on me that we were only a couple of months away from the day when a significant portion of those clothes will be packed into the back of a small black Nissan and driven off to a dorm room. Another portion will be strategically loaded into a red Toyota for a much longer trip, half-way across the country. As I looked around the messy room, a wave of gratitude washed over me. Those piles of clothes represented so much more than another mundane task. They signify the presence of our greatest blessings – our kids. The clothes themselves mean we were able to provide for them. Some they've purchased themselves because they work now, too. We shouldn't take that ability for granted. We have machines to help wash and dry the clothes, and although the washer shakes like crazy and has been torn apart and repaired multiple times, it still works. We live somewhere with electricity and abundant clean water. We're physically able to climb the stairs to the laundry room and toss a load in. Suddenly the monotony of the task fades away, replaced by the beauty of the blessings the dirty laundry represents. When I get home from work at the end of a long day, and the kitchen looks like it did when I left the house ten hours earlier (aka no one has thought to start supper), I can become frustrated. I gaze into the fridge, often without one single idea what to make. Now is when I need to take a deep breath and feel appreciation that the refrigerator isn't bare. There might not be the makings for a full course meal in there, but we won't starve. And finding containers of leftovers from the night before is like finding gold. I remind myself that if the kids grumble over the prospect of reheating last night's dinner for a quick meal now, they'll eventually appreciate the beauty of leftovers, once they're off on their own. When I start to feel anxious because the house is dusty and cluttered, I need to remind myself that it still provides a roof over our heads, protection from the outside world, and a safe place to sleep at night. Too many people have no place to call home. Shame on me for grumbling over cleaning it up once in a while. Vehicles can be a money suck: they require gas, new tires once in a while, repairs, and insurance. The gas runs out and needs to be refilled. The cars get dirty and need to be washed. If we aren't careful, we can find ourselves sighing again. But vehicles also provide essential modes of transportation that allow us to get to work, run errands, go out for a fun evening, and travel to see family and friends. Around here, where there is little public transportation, one would be hard-pressed to function well without a vehicle. I could go on and on, but I know you get my point. Having loved ones to feed and clothe, food in the cupboards, and a roof over our heads means we are blessed beyond measure. As a fiction writer, I like to explore the complexity of every day, the gifts we find as we go about living life. The reality is many of these gifts go unnoticed and unappreciated when we don't make a conscious effort to look for the blessings. So much of our joy in life is found in the small, day-to-day experiences we live, but sometimes we forget this. In my newest book, Rebuilding Home, the very first chapter is titled "Gift of Dirty Laundry." Ethan, the main character, is struggling to maintain their household after his wife has walked out. Yes, he has mounds of smelly football gear and stinky teenage boys' clothes piling up in the laundry room, but at least he still has his kids. Our homes and the people we share home with should never be taken for granted. Yes, it takes work to keep everyone clothed and fed, but over time, the demands on our time will shift. Some years will be busier than others, filled to overflowing with seemingly dull household tasks. But if we work to view those tasks in a new light, there can be joy found in completing them. If you spend much of your days maintaining a household, you are doing important work. If you spend your day working hard away from home, earning money to use to hire others to help maintain your home, that's important, too. The point is to keep your eyes open to see the blessings in it all.
And in the spirit of full disclosure, everyone pitches in at our house and does much of their own laundry. I'm a busy woman, and we are all capable of washing clothes. So, while the kids might not agree, teaching them to be self-sufficient is a blessing as well. Joy is the reward for a job well done, and all jobs are important. May your day be filled with blessings, even if some of your hours are spent sorting through dirty laundry. Kim
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It's official. I am now the parent of three "adults." I use the term loosely, because turning eighteen doesn't magically make you a grown-up, but it certainly is a milestone. Today is our youngest daughter's 18th birthday. It feels surreal. Didn't we just bring her home from the hospital as a newborn? Her special day has me feeling nostalgic, flipping through scrapbooks and old photo albums. I stumbled across the snapshot on the left from the day we brought our middle daughter home from the hospital. The snow was piled high, and record flooding would follow. It was a spring to remember. The picture on the right is today. Some things change, some things remain the same. To be honest, I find it all unnerving, this process of the kids growing up and building lives of their own. I've been a mother for nearly half my life now. For twenty-five years, I've been doing the whole mom gig, and I love it. Now the dynamics are changing. Am I past the hard part? Will the rest be smooth sailing? Time will tell. I thought it would be fun to try to remember some of the things I often said to my kids as they were growing up. I suspect they got sick of hearing some of these:
I’m sure if you asked my kids, they'd come up with lots more to add to this list. They can never claim I failed to offer sage advice! Through the years, I like to think I've gained some empathy for other parents. It's the whole "been there, done that" deal. If I see a kid throwing a tantrum out in public, I think back to the epic meltdown one of mine had on the sidewalk at the street fair. As long as a parent is trying to calm them down, I sympathize. If you've ever spent much time with little ones, whether as a parent, friend, teacher or relative, you've probably lived through your fair share of public outbursts and embarrassments. Kids sometimes don't know what to do with all the emotions they're feeling. It's up to us to try to help them learn. As I sit here today, thinking back through my first twenty-five years of parenting, I consider whether I have any regrets. Of course, there will always be those parenting "fails" were we wish we'd have handled something differently, but in general, if we've approached this important job with the best of intentions and gave it our best, hopefully our list of true regrets is short. I've tried, I've sometimes failed, but they've grown into compassionate, kind young adults and my list of regrets is short. I do regret not writing more things down. You think you'll remember all the cute things they say or do. Trust me— you won't. At least that's been my experience. There are things I miss from when they were all little. I miss the pile of little tennis shoes by the back door, even though the mess used to drive me crazy. I miss someone bringing me a dandelion to proudly display in a juice glass on the window sill. Like so many things in life, it's the little things we miss when we no longer have them. Perhaps the thing I miss the most is having all five of us under one roof when I go to sleep at night. While I'm still learning what it means to be a mom, because my role continues to evolve as they grow, I hope they'll always know what a privilege it's been to be "that person" for them. The one that loves them more than life itself. I hope we've been able to teach them a few valuable life lessons. Things like:
As a parent, we try to do our best every day. Some days will go better than others. You'll forget many of the details on your long journey together. You will forget the good, the bad, and even the ugly, but there will be special moments you'll never forget. As my grandmother Onie always used to say—enjoy every single stage of life. I'm working hard to do just that. Because while I'm sad that their tiny shoes are no longer piled by the back door, sometimes their big boots and tennis shoes still pile up there. We must be doing something right if the two that no longer live here still come back to visit. Life is good. I am blessed to be the mother of three awesome kids. And now I need to go bake a birthday cake for our youngest (or go buy an ice cream cake, she's always liked those best). Whether you are a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or friend to a child, be sure to tell them how proud you are of them today. The world will be a better place when all children feel love. Kim
Do you have a special place where you can go just to breathe? A place of your very own where you can unwind, relax, and rejuvenate? Where you can surround yourself with things you love, maybe things only you can appreciate? I dreamed of having a space like that for a long time. We’ve been blessed to live in the same home for over twenty-five years. As with any house, ours has its own unique quirks and problems. When we found ourselves with more kids than bedrooms, we considered moving, but in the end, we stayed put. We added on instead. Because that’s what we do around here. We find a way to make things work. I remember dreading the day when our kids would grow up and start to leave home. I hated the very thought. I imagined that when that time did come, the only redeeming factor might be a house that felt roomier. Back then I’d wonder what we’d do with all the extra space. That time has come faster than I thought it would. Everyone tells you it will, and they’re right. Two out of three of our kids have moved out. But, in reality, I’m finding the whole “extra space” thing doesn’t quite work like that. We still need the bedrooms, if not for the kids when they come home for a visit, for other guests. And it takes a while before the kids are completely out of the house. They may be gone, but much of their "stuff" remains. At least for us…for now. I’ve always dreamed of having a beautiful home office to call my own. I used to cut pictures out of magazines, spend hours watching HGTV, and even created some stunning Pinterest boards. But despite all my dreaming of the perfect office, I still had nowhere in the house where I could truly escape when I wanted to focus on my writing and other creative pursuits. After a while, the kitchen table just didn’t cut it anymore. If you find yourself in the same boat, I encourage you to look around your own home with fresh eyes. Maybe there is a closet you can repurpose. Or an attic that could serve a better purpose than storing the junk you’ll never need. For me, I eventually claimed a room in the basement. It doesn’t sound very glamorous, does it? When we first moved in years ago, that room served as nothing more than storage. Eventually, I convinced my husband to build a wall to separate the space. We’d keep the back one-third storage and convert the front two-thirds into an unofficial extra bedroom. The bedroom was rarely used. One day, inspiration struck. Since we now had a spare bedroom upstairs, what if we tossed the old bed that was downstairs and I could finally have my office? A space of my own to hold all my treasures where I could retreat to create. Was it even possible to convert the boxy little room with one tiny window and an unfortunately placed fuse box into something special? It wouldn’t have the natural light streaming in through gorgeous windows like some of the pictures I’d cut out and drooled over, but I thought it was worth a shot. I didn’t want to spend much money. Instead, I wanted to create a blank canvas (code for paint the ugly yellow walls a bright white) and then layer in many of the fun treasures I’ve collected over the years. I could make it as “girly” as I wanted and no one would care. Even though I’d long ago let go of my childhood dream of someday living in a pink house, I could have splashes of pink and bits of glam in my little downstairs office. And so the transformation began. I turned up the music, pulled out the tarps, got rid of the junk and recruited some helpers. The room felt lighter, brighter, once the fresh coat of white was up. It was almost time to let my imagination loose. But first, there were some practical issues to be addressed. One very real problem was the limited number of electrical outlets in my new office. My desk placement would be dictated based on where there was electricity. It drives me nuts when I have to be practical! I envisioned a large, L shaped desk with plenty of room for both computers and open tabletop space but I didn’t want anything heavy or too traditional. I scoured the house and screened-in porch for options.
What about that cool old door my mom and I had literally rescued from a dumpster outside a vintage-style store a few years earlier? The owners had been happy to have us take it. It barely fit in my mini-van, and we didn’t know what we’d do with it at the time, but I’ve learned to pick up treasures when you get the chance. You’ll figure out how to put them to use later. The door became the mainstay of my eclectic new desk with the addition of four adjustable table legs from Menards and a heavy piece of beveled glass. The glass originally came atop another treasure Mom and I had picked up even earlier. The $5 coffee table it came on ended up out on the curb on clean-up week, but the glass transformed our door into a desktop. With the addition of an old kitchen table to complete the L shape, I had my desk. The room continued to take shape. Old pieces, originally meant for other purposes have come together to give me a special place I call my own. When I want it bright, my pretty little “splurge” on the ceiling makes things sparkle. When I want to escape into my own mind, turning off all the lights except for the single one on my desk leaves me in a little cocoon of darkness. It works for me. If you haven’t carved out a nook of your own, somewhere in your home, I encourage you to consider it. It doesn’t have to be big. It can be as fancy or as spartan as you want. The important thing is for it to reflect your likes, your tastes. Unless you live alone, you likely have to find a way to blend your style with the styles of those you live with so everyone feels at home. But your own little corner can reflect your unique style. I know I love having my own nook. If you’re curious how my little basement office turned out, check back here next week when I’ll share more pictures and offer up examples of how I try to feed my own creativity and chase after my own dreams. If you follow my page on Facebook, I plan to post pictures of some of my favorite items from my office throughout this coming week so check those out, too. The older I get, the more I appreciate the importance of surrounding ourselves with people and things that make us smile. Sometimes it's the history of how things come to be a part of our lives that give us joy. Spice up your own little corner of the world with things that make your soul sing. It’s how I like to live. Kim We have an unsolved mystery at the office. Nothing significant, but a mystery nonetheless. After some time away over the holidays, I was back at the office on the second day of the new year. As I filled my coffee cup and prepared to face a full inbox after nearly two weeks away, I spared a glance at the still-decorated Christmas tree as I made my way back to my office. I remember thinking I should find twenty minutes to pull off the ornaments and stow the tree away until next year. I’d get to it if I could. Later, when the light faded outside my office windows, I realized it was time to head home. I flipped off the lights as I was the last one to leave, again passing the still festive tree on my way out the door. Maybe I’d get around to it the next day. I didn’t have to. When I returned the next morning, the tree stood bare. Someone had taken down all the decorations and stowed them away. No ornaments remained except one lone little bulb, still hanging on a lower branch. There was something about that single bulb that spoke to me. Curious, I asked around. We only have a small group in our office area. No, none of them took down the decorations. Perhaps it was the woman who does such an amazing job cleaning our offices after hours. But she wouldn’t know where to put the tub of decorations. Whoever it was, they left a little something behind. That one little gold bulb reminded me of how we almost always leave something behind us as we move through life, even when we don’t realize it. Think about how many people we interact with each day. Regardless of whether our encounter is brief or lengthy, the quality of our interaction has at least the potential to impact us both. A kind word or a smile may be all it takes to brighten someone’s day. We’ve left a little something positive in our wake. On the flip side, if we’re having a crummy day and get impatient with someone, we can pass those bad vibes on, too. It’s like we leave a little trail of breadcrumbs behind us, everywhere we go. We seldom leave things exactly as they were before we pass through. Sometimes the impact we make will be fleeting, sometimes it will endure. We see this in nature, too. A dropped candy wrapper here, a trampled flower there, and suddenly a tiny bit of beauty is lost. Over time, the effects of carelessness can compound. We need to tread carefully, doing what we can to nurture and not destroy.
Nearly everything we do will leave at least a small imprint on the world. Our spoken words have the power to have an immediate impact on someone else. Our written words record our thoughts and could impact others, possibly for years to come. A kind gesture that perhaps seems almost inconsequential could literally save someone's life. I’m saddened and mystified by the dilemma we find ourselves in right now in the US due to the partial government shutdown, but it warms my heart to see men, women, and children stepping forward to help others who suddenly find themselves in difficult positions through no fault of their own. Stories abound of people and businesses doing what they can to help. I heard about a restaurant in an airport offering free meals to TSA workers. I saw an interview with a woman who's faced hard times herself in the past, and now she's providing financial assistance to people who gave her a job when she needed it the most. There are many similar examples, playing out all across the country. I hope the media continues to focus on the positive stories because, as we all know, what you focus on grows. We’ve seen strangers helping strangers, countless other times. People helping people in times of struggle. Whether it’s a fire, a flood, or horrific acts of violence, people come together in times of need. These are the kind of footsteps I hope we can all strive to leave behind us as we travel through life. Make someone’s day, don’t ruin it. Plant a tree, don’t cut it down. Write a funny story and make someone laugh instead of dashing off a scathing comment meant to force your opinion on someone else. Attitude is everything. Your own attitude can make or break your day. Just as importantly, it can make or break someone else’s, even when you don’t mean for it to. We still don't know who undressed our tree. I could keep asking questions, but sometimes a little mystery is fun. I took the tree down and stowed it away later that morning, but I brought the small gold ornament into my office. It will serve as a reminder to me. Everything we do leaves something behind. Make it count. Kim |
Kimberly Diede AuthorHello everyone and welcome to my blog! My name is Kimberly Diede and I'm a fiction author and family girl. When time permits, I am happiest with a great cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. I love to alternate between reading and writing. Winters here can be long, dark and cold. Summers are unpredictable, lovely and always too short. Every season of the year, as in every season of life, is a gift. Let's celebrate it together! Categories
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