10-year-olds give me hope

My little sister, Anna, spent last week at our house with my husband and me. She went to a local soccer camp while I was at work, and then I picked her up in the afternoons and brought her to the office with me.

By day 2 she had already made herself at home. I glanced over my laptop to see her kicked back on one of the office couches, shoes off, wrapped up in a blanket and playing my iphone. One time I looked up and she was just gone. I frantically ran around the office to find her talking business with the accountant. By the time it was all said and done, she was practically running the place.

Tyler and I loved having her in town, though it did make our week rather unusual since it’s usually just the two of us. I mean, 10-year-olds can kind of take care of themselves-ish, so they’re not too high maintenance, but even though she’s relatively independent, it’s still a lot of work to keep her alive and entertained and give her all of my attention when she’s talking, because she’s almost always talking... or getting stuck in a doggie door.

I feel like we really got in some quality sister time. I got to see the world through her eyes for a week, and it was extraordinarily beautiful. I want to share with you a few things I learned from this wide-eyed little 10-year-old.

1. Just go with it.

Monday I was supposed to drop Anna off at a certain soccer camp. We got up extra early, ate breakfast, got dressed, coated her in sunscreen and loaded up her soccer gear. When we pulled up to the what should have been the camp’s location, there were no soccer players to be found. I asked a lady at the front desk where the soccer camp drop-off was and immediately knew something was not right. Her face looked both terrified and embarrassed for me. “Oh… that camp was canceled a few weeks ago,” she said slowly. “They sent out an email to all the parents.” 

My mom rarely checks her email, so we did not get word of the cancellation. 

Thanks, Mom. 

I immediately started brainstorming what to do with this 10-year-old because though I was excited to spend much of the week with her, I did actually have some obligation to my job. 

I explained to Anna what happened, and we got in my car and headed toward the office. On the way there, I was able to call around and get information on a few other camps happening in the area. “Anna, what about nature camp? Do you want to play with frogs? You could always just sit at my office all day. Maybe the library has some kind of summer program…” Though I could tell she was not thrilled about any of the previously listed options, she just shrugged at everything I asked and said “Doesn’t matter to me.” 

I finally found another soccer camp, even closer to my office. They said they could fit her in, and it worked out because it was actually a bigger and better camp than the one she would have attended. She was so excited, and I could tell that no part of her was deterred by the mixup. I on the other hand, felt as though I had already attended 3 meetings, a conference call and had been run over by an 18-wheeler all by the time I rolled into the office. But to Anna, it was as if the path she ended up on was where she had been headed all along. 

Anna 1 - Emily 0

2. Trust the people who love you.

By the fourth night Anna stayed with us, she was

WO. OUT. 

I spend most days going from one activity/commitment to the next, so I had just been letting her tag along with me. But what I didn’t realize about 10-year-olds was apparently they need some time to rest. When we were getting ready for bed, Anna started crying. Initially, she said she didn’t know why. Then she said she was scared because she heard a noise outside. Whether she actually heard a noise or was just making up a reason to justify her tears – I suppose we’ll never know. Either way, I had to calm her down. So I told her she had nothing to be afraid of because I was there to protect her.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Then I realized how ridiculous that sounded and assured her Tyler was also there in case I needed backup. Even though I would likely provide little protection against an intruder (I mean I would give it my best), Anna stopped crying when I said this. She believed me. She had confidence in me… even though I was lying (but that’s not the point). She didn’t ask for my plan of action; she just trusted me, stopped crying and drifted off to sleep… as I stayed awake wondering what caused the noise she claimed to have heard outside our window. 

Anna 2 - Emily 0

3. On that note, get some rest.

While we’re already talking about the lack of rest, I will tell you I did get better at giving Anna time to rest. I worked from home the following two afternoons while she napped on the couch. And I cancelled plans we had Wednesday so she could go to bed earlier. But I realized how difficult it was for me to consciously slow down my pace. 

I, and maybe you too, are so accustomed to going from one engagement to the next. If I’m not at a meeting or social obligation, I’m being productive at home (for instance it is nearly 11 p.m. as I write this, but I don’t want to go to sleep until it’s finished). Some, better yet, most of these activities are enjoyable, but not stopping and resting can take a toll on us. And I would be lying if I said I had never, like Anna, had tears streaming down my face and didn’t even know why. We are humans, and humans need rest – peaceful, wholesome, life-giving rest. 

Or else we’ll start making up stories about hearing a noise outside the window that cause our older sister to stay up half the night.

Anna 3 - Emily 0

4. It doesn’t matter what people think.

We all want to be adored and appreciated. But that doesn’t mean that we have to be perfect. On Day 2 of soccer camp, I picked Anna up and asked how her day went. “I fell in front of the entire camp,” she responded immediately. “Oh no,” I interrupted her, “What happened?”

“The coach picked me to stand in front of the whole camp and demonstrate a trick she taught us,” she went on. “I was trying to do the trick and tripped on my ball and fell on my face.” 

She started giggling.

“It was hilarious.”

I would have been MORTIFIED if this had happened to me. Sure, I would have laughed and acted like I didn’t care, but I totally would have cared. But I really don’t think Anna did. She just doesn’t care what people think about her, and of all of her spectacular traits, this is certainly one of my favorites. She says what she thinks. She knows when she’s good at something and when she needs to work on it. She’s terrible at telling jokes, and she will tell you that (after unsuccessfully attempting to tell about 18 jokes). Anna is just Anna, and right now, at the age of 10, that’s all she wants to be. 

I just wish I could tell her to stay the way she is – to remain little and pure and carefree. To keep her priorities exactly where they are presently, because for her right now, stopping for chocolate sprinkled donuts is more important than getting to soccer camp on time. And going for a walk with her older sister is more pressing than cleaning up after dinner. She loves vastly, and she brightens up even the most dreary of days. She gives me hope that if all the other 10-year-olds out there are like her, maybe – just maybe, the world is going to be ok.

Oh and final score, Anna 4 - Emily 0.

The "One Days"

I have always wanted to participate in a marathon. The idea of running 26.2 miles seems so satisfying and rewarding to me. I can just imagine crossing the finish line after 4+ hours of my sneakers hitting the pavement and my music blaring in my ears – my face red and dripping with hard-earned sweat. That feeling of “I did it. I really did it.”

I want that feeling.

I’ve done a hand full of half marathons, but I always have an excuse for not doing the full.

“I am too busy.”

“It’s too hot outside.” 

“My schedule isn’t consistent.”

“I need someone to train with me.”

“It’s too far out to commit to a race.”

“I can always do it later.”

Blah, blah blah and so on and so forth. All of those excuses (and the billion others I’ve used over the years) are still applicable, but running this race is something I really want to do – mainly just to prove to myself that I can.

And I’m finally doing it. 

I recently signed up for a full marathon in Savannah, Georgia this fall. I thought if I picked a place I had never been, the vacation would also be an incentive to train. So we’ll see how that goes.

This week I began an 18-week program that claims I will be ready by race day. On one of my runs earlier this week I was thinking about other things in my life I’ve put off because of excuses. Things I’ve always wanted to do but just never got around to. I’ve started calling them my “one days.” 

One day I’ll paint my living room.

One day I’ll publish a book.

One day I’ll have that difficult conversation. 

One day I’ll drink less coffee. (But probably not really.)

I think we all have have a list of “one days.” Things we’ll eventually get around to, but never do. 

One day I’ll create a budget.

One day I’ll go on that vacation.

One day I’ll change careers.

One day I’ll call my grandmother.

Our excuses are valid. Life is busy. And we’re overcommitted and usually tired, despite all the coffee. But something I’ve started working on lately is being more intentional with my time. Chipping away at my “one days.”

It’s daunting to look at my list and think, “This is such a massive undertaking. How am I going to make time for this?” But it shouldn’t be that intimidating. I don’t have to put the rest of my life on hold in order to take a step towards accomplishing one of my “one days.”

For example, my marathon. I’m not just going to wake up on November 4th, trot my happy butt down to the starting line and run 26.2 miles. I mean, that would be a heck of a lot less time-consuming, but it’s not very practical. On the other hand, I’m not going to quit my job, tell my husband I’ll talk to him in 4 months and say goodbye to my friends and family in order to train over the next 18 weeks. I’m just going to take baby steps – taking 30 minutes to an hour out of most days (and a little more once a week for long runs) to gradually prepare over the next few months. 

It will require a little bit of sacrifice and intentionality on my part, but it’s not going to consume my life. And it’s something I care deeply about, so to me, it’s worth it.

I hope someone out there besides me has a list of “one days.” And if it’s you, I hope you can start taking steps to cross them off your list. Because they require work and being willful and determined and focused, but it’s so very gratifying when one day you can finally cross off a “one day.”

Writing Again

I’m writing again. I tried this blog thing a while back, and it lasted about two years. Which is longer than I’ve committed to most jobs I’ve taken. That sounds like a joke, but it’s painfully true. 

I just kept choosing the wrong career paths, I suppose. Or maybe I knew they were wrong all along and just took them because someone offered to pay me every other week and cover my health insurance. They even threw in two weeks vacation (which is honestly like no time) and a 401k – which even though I didn’t know what it was at the time sounded like I had my ish together.

And the worst part is, these jobs I’d accepted – they are the reason I stopped writing. I would get up at 6 in the morning, terribly cranky because… well, it was 6 in the morning. I would drink my coffee and get ready for the day. My husband would leave for work before I would. I would kiss him goodbye and say “Call me at lunch,” as if he weren’t going to. As if he didn’t call me at lunch every Monday through Friday because it was the only smidgen of free time we had in our day. I would then finish getting ready and make sure the pets had been fed and glare at them with envy because they got to stay home all day. I swear I could rule the world if I had all the free time my pets have. But they will never rule the world because they are lazy. Especially my cat, Tony.

Following the moments of bitterness towards my cat and dog, I would get in my car with my packed lunch because.. budget. And I would drive the 25-30 minute commute to my office. I would sit in the car for a moment and – just kidding I was usually late, so I would immediately dash through the parking lot in my high heels, which I had no business wearing in the first place because that’s how people sprain ankles. And I would make it through the front doors just in time to yell “Base!” And by ‘yell’ I mean silently say to myself. Because though I wasn’t quite on the clock, I was in the building which if you think about it, is kind of equivalent to tagging base when you are a child playing hide-and-seek. No one could say I was late because dang it, I had tagged base before 8:00.

And it’s not like anyone important was there yet anyway. You think the CEO gets there at 8:00? Heckkkkkkkkk no. When you’re the CEO, you get to come in when you want and and leave when you want. THAT’S WHY WE ALL WANT TO BE THE CEO. 

I would catch my breath (from the mad sprint to base) as I walked to my desk. I would say “Hi” to other co-workers who looked as thrilled as I did to be there. “Another Monday, eh Chuck?” said one to a second. “Have a good weekend, Martha?” another would ask. Martha would then reminisce on her weekend at the lake house and we would all stare longingly into the distance wishing we were there instead of in that cold, mundane office. *Chuck and Martha are not real people I worked with. I can’t put real names because people get upset about these sorts of things.

We would then do monotonous work until our lunch breaks, which were one hour. And Lord forbid I stayed gone longer than an hour. Then we would try really hard to get anything done in the afternoon, but once you’ve had that little one-hour glimpse of freedom it’s difficult to get anything done. Plus you get that weird sleepy spell around 2:30 every day and try to figure out a way to nap at your desk with no one noticing. 

Then 4:00 rolled around and well, let’s just face it. 4 is practically 5 so I would spend the next hour procrastinating because it would just be plum silly to begin something new that late in the day. And when 5:00 hit, it was like that feeling you got when you were a kid on the last day of school before summer vacation. You want to throw your papers down the hall and stand on your desk shouting, “FREEEEEEEEEDOMMMMMMMM!” But you also don’t want to have to clean up those papers or for people to stare at you in a snarky manner when you return at 8 tomorrow morning, so you quietly pack up your belongings and speed walk to the parking lot. You never run because then people will get suspicious about how much in a hurry you were to leave. You just speed walk as though you have a very important engagement to be at in the next few minutes.

Then I would fight the traffic – ugh the traffic – to get home and finally shed that hostage-like feeling that came upon me earlier in the day. I would go for a run and cook dinner and do dishes and speak to my husband and do all the things I couldn’t do when I was at work. Before I knew it, the sun would set as day turned to dusk, and the exhaustion would settle in. And any “me” time be it for writing or reading or editing videos drifted away with the final remaining rays of sunshine. The day was done. And tomorrow, I knew I had to get up and do it all over again. And that is a sad, sad glimpse into the end of my former blog. 

But not anymore.

A friend asked me recently, how my media business was going. I told her it was doing very well, and she said “Great! So that’s the dream, right? To run Moore Media Group full time?”

To my own surprise I immediately said “Of course that’s not the dream. It’s just something I enjoy and that people will pay me to do.”

She looked confused. “Then… what is the dream?”

Without thinking I said, “Well, to write a book. That’s always been the dream. I’ve just never had time.”

And for the last several weeks that conversation has haunted me a bit. “I just never have time for my dream.” What a disheartening thought. It’s my dream. I have to have time for it. Or else younger me will be immensely disappointed with grown-up me. 

So I am starting to write again.

I don’t really know the logistics to publishing a book and such but I know writing is a requirement. And if I can’t even find time to write a blog post every now and then, how am I supposed to find time to write a book? 

So here it is. My first post back. I hope to do this regularly. And I hope it is fun for both you and me. I also hope that if you have a dream you have neglected for far too long, you have a friend who will have coffee with you and ask you, “what is the dream?” Because those friends are truly extraordinary. And so are your dreams.