It appears we are on the cusp of a pretty big deal election here in the States. My Facebook feed is littered with news clips and sound bites and shares of this politician or that reality star or someone saying something crappy about someone else or someone politician A being supported by this group or that celebrity. To be honest, it all got to be a bit much for me a few weeks ago. I unsubscribed from every single politically-oriented feed I could (save The New Yorker and NPR). I had to. I was getting angry and outraged over things that mattered and things that didn’t. It was affecting me in way it never has before.

I love politics. I’ve always been pretty involved with election cycles. My first presidential election was in 2000. I voted for W. I regret nothing. In 2004, I again voted for W. I regret nothing. In 2008, I was torn between Obama and Hillary, voted Obama in the primary and then again in the general. I regret nothing. In 2012, I voted the crap out of Obama. I regret nothing.

Until 2008, I was a pretty solid Republican. I was raised in a conservative home with conservative values. I was also raised in a Christian home, but I refuse to equate conservative with Christian or vice versa. But as with many things, I grew and studied and researched and…changed my mind. Well, I changed my mind on some things. On others, I remain staunchly conservative.

So when the 2008 election cycle (literally) rolled through town, I went all out. I talked to whomever would listen. I watched all the debates. I spent a great deal of time in downtown Denver with friends, watching the show and even catching glimpses of political heavyweights. I went to my first ever presidential rally after Obama clinched the nomination. I was glued to The Daily Show’s coverage of the election. I went to an election night party. Basically, I threw all my cheerleading expertise and fervor into the 2008 election.

I’ve always kind of wanted to be involved in a campaign. Calling people, asking for donations, attending events and rallies…all of it just sounds exciting! I’ve had an itch for politics since I was in high school (which is strange because the high school I went to didn’t offer anything related to government, except for student council, of which I was a member for 6 years) so it’s not surprising that I’ve found something other than football to put my weight behind. The problem for me has always been time. Now moreso than ever. It sounds like an excuse (and maybe it is), but it’s my reality. I have the tiny human that take a significant portion of my time and energy…and I’m more than willing to give it to her. I’m also very, very torn between candidates this cycle. Or, at least, I was up until about a week ago. That makes it hard to throw myself at a specific campaign.

So I choose, instead, to involve myself in other ways. I religiously watch every debate and town hall on both sides (I’ve only missed two – one from each – and that’s because I’ve been disgustingly sick). I think it’s vital to listen to everyone’s stance on a variety of issues. Sure, I identify as Democratic these days, but there was a time when I didn’t (when – *GASP* – I actually thought Ann Coulter had something valuable to offer…we all make mistakes). My mind was changed. I’m not above thinking it can’t be changed again. Of the many things I hate about American politics, its fluidity and evolution is one thing I don’t hate.

Instead of investing in a single campaign, I’ve had the opportunity to engage with several of my friends during each of this cycle’s debates and town halls. I think I’ve unofficially become the person that organizes these debate threads (and have already been tapped to host an election night party). It’s a fun group to be involved with…there are socialists, atheists, Christians, conservatives, liberals, middle-of-the-roaders, some that aren’t sure, some that don’t care, men, women. We challenge each other without insulting each other. We rein each other in when we get too combative or too sensitive. We make caustic jokes. We’re often “inappropriate.”

But maybe most importantly, we engage and inform. We offer different points of view. We listen. We respect.

And when I think about how I want to be involved in politics, this is it. I want my daughter to see (though she’s often in bed by the time all this goes down) that politics are/is important. I want her to know that it’s fine to rest on your laurels, but it’s also wise to listen (nay, HEAR) another perspective. I want her to know that she needs to hear opinions and facts that oppose her worldview…because she needs to either be able to defend her position or concede it.

I just want to be and raise a person that’s a contributing member of society.

So what do you do when you want to write, but have nothing to write about? You brain dump. There are a million things running through my head, but I can’t seem to focus on a single one for long enough to flesh out an actual “piece” about it.

1. I want to be pregnant again. I want to have another (possibly our last) with this incredible community I’ve had the joy of participating in for the last two years. My mama-friends are here. My doula is here. My support structure is here.
2. I keep thinking I might be pregnant, but any time someone asks me what my gut says, I say, “I don’t know…I go back and forth.”
3. I want to focus my blog, but I don’t know how or on what. I don’t want to just write about motherhood or babies, but that’s what my life is about right now.
4. I still really want to write for Vanity Fair.
5. I don’t think I’ll ever actually be good enough to do that.
6. I want to work on a new blog idea with a girl friend, but both of us have pretty intense (and exciting) jobs right now that don’t allow for a lot of free time.
7. I want to take more time to read. I hate that I watch so much TV. But I’m also really tired most of the time so reading sounds more exhausting that relaxing. I miss reading. I miss my periodicals and books and general knowledge.
8. I still have no idea whom to vote for in this next election or even in the primaries. I have good reasons to vote for either of the candidates I’m torn between, but my pros/cons list is coming up even for each of them.

So there’s my brain dump for the day.

Isn’t it interesting how we can talk such big games, but when it comes to implementing our own advice in our own lives, we suddenly become…all talk?

Well, that’s how I feel sometimes.

The topic of joy came up recently in one of the mom’s group I’m a part of on Facebook (even better, I’m friends IN REAL LIFE with a lot of the women in that group. It’s a wonderful feeling). And I offered this advice: Think about what brings you joy and do/eat/be/drink that.

It got me thinking about the things that bring me joy. And I’m not talking about my husband or my daughter or even my dogs. All those beings bring me joy like I can’t explain. I feel joy being my husband’s wife. I feel joy being my daughter’s mother. I feel joy being my puppies “forever home”.

I’m talking about the part of me that just me. No other responsibilities. No other people to worry about. Just me.

And the list is short. Not because I don’t find joy in lots of things, but because the things I find joy in bring me an almost uncomfortable amount of joy. Uncomfortable in the sense that my heart feels like it’s going to explode, I’m so happy. Even just thinking about these things makes me giddy!

I love to dance and I love to sing.

I was a ballroom dancer for several years, but when I got married, I moved away from my studio, my teachers, my partners and have yet to find a new place to really get my groove on. Then we moved to a tiny town and had a baby and there’s just no way to fit dancing in right now…time and finances are tight when there’s a little one around. But, oh my god, the insane levels of joy I experience when I get to dance! I love to Salsa like a pregnant girl loves to each cake. Swing just makes my old soul smile. Tango is a wickedly sexy dance (that I kind of suck at, but still enjoy). Viennese Waltz holds a special piece of my joy. But Foxtrot? Oh, that’s where my heart soars! The music, the long, twirly dresses, the spinning, everything! I want to do it all, all the time. I’m the girliest of girls, so feeling all “princessy” just makes me go sort of crazy. I miss dancing.

And I miss singing. I used to sing all the time…at church, at home, at bars, in a studio. If there was an opportunity for me to sing, I took it! I’m not the best at it (I can think of several people right now that are lightyears ahead of my talent), but I’m good. And I love it. I’ve sort of been silenced in the last couple years. Some of that silence as been my own choice. Having a baby doesn’t lend itself well to going out for karaoke nights every weekend like I used to. Not living in my home state means that I don’t get random emails anymore asking me to pop over and do some tracks.

I’m also the kind of person that tends to want what she can’t have. So maybe if I could dance and sing all the time, it wouldn’t bring me as much joy? I doubt it. I have some references if you need proof of how much I truly love those things.

But I’m learning to find joy in adjusted situations. I’m learning to tailor my personal joys around my current circumstances. I dance with my daughter around our living room. My husband sometimes twirls me around the kitchen or in the rain. I sing lullabies to my baby to help her sleep.

So these things, these activities, that have been mine for so long, well, they’re still mine, but I’m sharing them with my other joys. And in doing so, I’m hopeful I’m imprinting a small part of my soul on theirs. I’m hopeful that in the years to come, my daughter will have some fleeting memory of a song she knows, but doesn’t quite know where from. Or that my husband, in a million years, will think back and see me young and fresh in a swirly dress, dancing to Sinatra.

So I use this website – http://www.blogher.com – to help me figure out what I should write about (when I actually get around to writing). This month, the theme is BALANCE. Oh, how timely the theme.

Balance is something I’ve almost always struggled with. Well, emotional/mental/spiritual balance that is. Physically, I’ve pretty much always been on my balance game. Anyway…that’s not the point.

I always seem to throw myself fully (or at least, mostly) in to one thing while foregoing all the other important pieces of my life. As an adult, that’s been a really hard habit to break. I tend to go all in and then wear myself out very quickly. I get exhausted of life easily which results in me just sitting and staring into whatever abyss I can find.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last year, it’s that I have to be incredibly intentional about devoting time to myriad activities: my daughter, my husband, myself, my friends, all at once, and all separately. What I’m learning is that it’s hard to be passionate about anything when I’m completely drained of everything. I have a deep and overwhelming desire to be passionate about something, but my body, heart, and spirit have been incredibly taxed.

And I think that’s due, in large part, to not taking the time to work on me. I’ve felt myself not just plateauing in the last couple years, but also backsliding. It’s the silly cross I bear, being that I have both an addictive and lazy personality.

So while I don’t really do the whole “New Year’s Resolutions” thing, I’m happy to go about it this year. It’s started well. I’m going back to the gym on the regular with a a girl friend. I’m writing and readying with more intention. I’m going to make a concerted effort to put away my devices while I’m with my family. I’ve even stopped buying “car candy” (which was maybe the hardest thing to do).

Basically, I need to start re-investing in all the facets of life that make me, me. Because empty cups tend to get dirty and boring and useless. A cup is there to be used, to drink from, and to refill. So I’m choosing to refill my cup this year.

There’s nothing quite like motherhood to make you realize your gross inadequacies. Over the last week or so, it seems like everything has come to a head, but the last two days have been complete madness.

Nothing seems to be going right.

I have something weird going on with my foot that I need to get looked at which
Makes it impossible to run right now which
Makes it really hard to lose the last 10-15lbs of baby weight which
Bums me out and makes me want to eat cookies which
Makes me need to make cookies (and roasted pumpkin seeds) but
My oven literally ignited yesterday because
I made meatloaf the night before (which I never do and it sucked) and the grease dripped out of the pan so
When the oven lit on fire, I cursed and then tossed water on it which
Was a terrible idea because grease (duh).
Then the baby woke up a 4:55am and proceeded to spend the next hour kicking, punching, smacking, scratching ,and screaming until…

I completely lost my sh*t. 

I changed her diaper with more force than was necessary, stomped her down to our bedroom, left her with Daddy, stormed back up to the guest room, and slammed the door as hard as I could, all the while trying not to let loose with a barrage of language that would make even my sailor blush.

The day never got much better. The baby face planted into a pile of pinecones and cut her tiny nose. In an effort to make up for being such a jerk to her, I gave her a warm cookie and wound up with tiny, chocolate handprints all over the couch. We’re back to violent nursing sessions so my nipples are close to bleeding (again). I realized I’ve forgotten to take my PPD meds for, like, a week. And instead of choosing a healthy lunch (which was an actual goal today), I’ve eaten cookie dough, chocolate covered almonds, and coffee.

Frankly, none of these things (except maybe the obviously unnecessary anger at my daughter) are a big deal, one at a time. But all at once? I honestly don’t know whether to drink, cry, or sleep. Or all of the above. Or in what order. I’ve reached a point where I kind of want to check out.

I’ve reached the point where motherhood has completely kicked my ass.

There are no time outs. There are no weekends. There are no coffee breaks.

And to be honest, I don’t want them. Okay, I want to sleep a little longer, but that’ll happen in time. This won’t be the last time motherhood tries to destroy me and I’m convinced there will be days that are exponentially harder than today (I only have one baby, after all).

I think I just need to accept that garbage days are going to happen. I mean, we’re both still alive and I didn’t even actually burn the house down (though it would have been warranted after finding two GIANT spiders in the house yesterday). Miserable failure is a feeling that won’t last. Fat days happen. Babies have crappy days just like grown ups do. Cookie dough is a perfectly legitimate lunch. Netflix is an acceptable babysitter, especially if I haven’t peed in seven hours.

And sometimes, sitting down and having a glass of wine while the baby finally naps is more important than doing the dishes, more productive than folding laundry, and more fulfilling than reading a book. The descent into madness is real. Wallowing, even if for just a few hours, is completely reasonable.

Let’s all just admit a few things:
1. Motherhood (or womanhood or personhood) really sucks sometimes;
2. Bad days are going to happen and we need to be okay with owning them; and
3. Things WILL get better. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even soon, but they will.

Until then, I’ll be over here, trying to keep from sitting in a corner and rocking.

I’ve been writing for a while now. Several years, in fact. Part of that time, I was writing for my degree, but let’s be honest: a ton of that writing came from a deeply personal place (not the technical writing, though. How personal can that be? It can’t be. Trust me). I’ve written about a whole host of topics and issues: cheerleading, sociological theory, Japan, war, the Bible, Canada, various films and books. I even delved (unsuccessfully) into fiction. I was (and remain) laughably bad at fiction.

But there are those pieces I’ve written that came from my soul, but something so deep inside me, I still can’t really understand how I got the words out. I write and I edit and I edit some more. Then I post the blog and…

Nothing.

Silence.

For someone that (for better or worse) gets a lot of her self-worth through external validation, having those pieces/articles/whatever fall on deaf ears (eyes?) is a challenge I’m working through. Not getting validation often makes my determination, motivation, and dedication take hits as well. It’s not a great way to go through life, if I’m completely honest. I really should be writing for myself right now. I should be writing, running, cooking, reading, anything because they are a part of who I am and they make me feel good about me.

I’ve historically been kind of a lazy, schedule-driven person, so this is really an opportunity for me to get off my ass (literally and figuratively) and do the things I keep talking about doing. I just need to decide I’m going to do something and do it. Without a schedule, I tend to do absolutely nothing. Seriously. Okay, not nothing…I have beaten nearly 300 levels of Candy Crush Soda Saga and have solved countless crosswords. This is clearly not a great use of my time.

Someone recently told me that motivation, while awesome, waxes and wanes. It’s rather fickle. Discipline, however? That can be cultivated and maintained. So it’s time I kick the discipline into high gear. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to do it.