Lola has wanted almost nothing to do with me lately.

She shouts, “No! No! I want daddy!” When I try to get her out of bed in the morning or when I try to give her a bath.

My husband – being responsible for an almost 3-year-old most hours of the day – is frazzled.

I’m frazzled too. I want to cuddle up to my tiny girl and kiss her soft whispy hair. I almost long for those days she wanted me and nobody else.

As I stood looking over the edge of her crib Saturday morning, trying to coax Lola to let me pick her up – whilst having zero success – Mike sauntered into the room and said, “It wasn’t so long ago the tables were turned.”

Yes, I remember.

My paranoid mind would have me believe this shift happened when I started working full-time. My intellect knows 3-years-olds are fickle and this phase has nothing to do with my choice to work. She’ll be back on my hip before long.

But I still struggle with my role as “mother,” especially in the light of Mother’s Day.

My client, Dr. Andrea Doucet, a sociologist who studies breadwinner moms & caregiving dads, wrote a Mother’s Day piece for PhD in Parenting. She shared the stories of many moms who have different views on mothering versus parenting. And it left her main question, “Are you still the mother?” reverberating in my brain.

I find my role ill-defined but my gut – literally – quite sure of my motherhood.

There is something primal there, but we needn’t define it, and setting limitations on gender-based identity discourages the possibilities within our scope of what it means to be human. Mothering comes in many blessed forms!
– Kristin, comment on Are You Still the Mother?

Many moms dream of parenting full-time and building a business during nap time. Practical circumstances and my own unyielding ambition made that unrealistic for me. While my day to day includes few traditional “mom” activities, I still feel a deep connection to motherhood and all the heart-straining, gut-turning emotions that come with it.

The primal awakening that occurs with the advent of motherhood – either biological or adopted – is the same primal awakening that allowed me to birth my business.

To deny my desire to nurture & grow my business would – for me – also deny my true relationship with my daughter.

Certainly, I do not see my daughter & my business as equal but I see a certain symbiosis in their existence. When another mom speaks of family as always her first priority, I wonder how she can see her business outside of the success of her family. It’s not a judgement call on my part but a yearning for a deeper understanding of the relationships of my own family.

I may be a business owner, leader, and breadwinner, but I am equally mother and woman. Where others see duality, I see connection. Where others see choices, I see inevitability.

My family and my business grow together. And I? I am the mother.

Bloated. Lethargic. Out of sorts.

I have also dropped my 4-times-a-week yoga addiction habit that I spent the winter cultivating. First it was some travel, then it was some personal stuff, then it was more travel. Cutting out an hour & a half of my day to drive to the gym, attend class, and drive back got to be just too much.

I’ve even lost my gym card.

But I’ve been doing my best to keep up with a wee bit of asana in the evenings before I go to bed. No matter how gross I feel, I try to spread out the mat, breathe deeply, and chaturanga.

I get back into my body. And my body gets back into me. 10 minutes, tops.

It’s my bare minimum. I don’t always achieve it. Sometimes I avoid even that. But I know intellectually that if I do the bare minimum, I’ll feel better.

I have a bare minimum for other things too: blog posts, answering email, making dinner, etc… I know how far I can cut down before things fall apart.

I get caught up in doing things bigger – better – faster – stronger – more XTREME. Finding a place to cut back when circumstances make it difficult to press ahead is good. Being aware of your bare minimum is even better.

When everything around me screams for more, it’s good to know I can rely on a certain bit of less.

There’s this tendency to view goals with an all-or-nothing approach.

But whether it’s yoga, or something else entirely, you can find power in just one small step.

– Brigitte Lyons

You don’t have to choose between firing on all cylinders and stalling out. There’s a place where you creep along slowly, making progress but not taxing your creative engine.

Knowing what satisfies you is just as important as knowing what thrills you.

My bare minimum isn’t a place I want to hang out long. In fact, keeping up with the bare minimum helps me get back into the flow faster than shutting down. But it’s a place that’s available to me when I need it.

What’s your bare minimum? And how do you know it’s time to ease into your bare minimum?

There are naysayers in our lives who reinforce our own fear of action & creation.

These aren’t people who live on the periphery or hang out in the shadows; they’re our husbands, wives, sisters, friends, parents…

They mean well – they’re not trying to squash our dreams or ridicule our ideas. They just don’t want to see us get hurt, they don’t want to see us fail.

They’ve been taught over & over again that “doing something different” doesn’t get rewarded, it gets punished.

When I first started blogging, my husband didn’t get it. I told him I was building a business, that I was working, that I was trying to contribute to the family.

Each time I opened the laptop, I could feel his disapproval. It weighed on me. I felt guilty for researching artists while breastfeeding (what the heck else was I supposed to do?). I rushed through writing in the evening so that he could putz around on Facebook.

I made every accommodation I could while still working towards my goal.

Little by little, things started to change.

“Working” went from a euphemistic put down to a legitimate call to arms. Small victories brought larger ones.

I’m going to tell you that it wasn’t easy to change his mind. In fact, I never really did.

His support doesn’t come from understanding the work – it comes from seeing the results.

In fact, I asked him, “What advice would you have for someone who’s struggling with getting started or keeping momentum because of unsupportive people around her?”

He said, “Tell her to just keep going. And leave a trail.”

Wow! Sometimes I DO remember why I married him. Yes! Leave a trail of results. Leave a trail of ideas initiated. Leave a trail of breadcrumbs so your naysayers can come find you in the forest of success.

If you are waiting to start until you have the approval of others, even those closest to you, you will be waiting forever.

You need to start so that you can show results. Results matter.

It doesn’t mean you need to succeed at everything you do. In fact, I’ve failed a lot on this path. You can fail and still have results that mean something.

In fact, failing gives you an incredibly valuable result. It’s one thing you no longer have to try, one thing not weighing on your consciousness of ideas.

When I work with a client or compose an email to send you, it’s always with results in mind. It’s not enough for me to communicate a message. I need to say something that creates a result for you.

The goals I have, the blog posts I write, the projects I start – it’s all to create a result. Sometimes the results are financial. Sometimes they’re mental. Sometimes they mean my family doesn’t see me for awhile and sometimes it means they get sick of me.

The result is the key.

People – yes, even that cantankerous person you’re thinking of right now – respect results.

Even if they don’t understand how the result was achieved. Even if they disapprove of the process. Even if they can’t imagine living that way or never imagined you’d live that way.

The result is what lasts.

But you have to get started to get a result.

{image by Erin Tyner}

There’s a phrase, “she’s come unhinged.”

Literally, the supports have worn away. What has held her up, allowed her to function – it’s no longer there.

I envision a door, leaning, busted and sad. The cold breeze creeps in through Winter. Hot, stagnant air flows through in Summer. The wood in the frame rots and decays.

I’ve felt that way. I’ve been the door. Off her hinges.

Here is the thing
to remember:
the moment you notice,
you are back.
– Colleen Wainwright, Unmoored

In high school, I took Prozac for a little while. It made me feel weird. Frenetic. Unnervingly happy.

Happy is not the same as joyful.

If I took it too late in the day, I would wake up in the wee hours of the morning. Sit, straight up – wide awake.

I didn’t like it. It was unnatural.

Maybe it “fixed me” but I still felt broken.

After college, while attempting a more conventional life, I spiraled down into depression again. I knew things weren’t right but I didn’t know how bad it was. I went from a size 10 to a size 0. I slept til 11am. I substituted caffeine for joy.

One day, in the stock room of the bookstore I managed, the words, “I just want to feel like I did on Prozac,” came out of my mouth.

That was it. I knew.

In that moment, I was back.

It took much longer to paint the door and hang it back on it’s hinges. Apply the WD40. Weather proof the cracks.

Anything that has come undone and be redone. Anything that has been unconnected can be reconnected.

Yes, even you.

{ image by Aunt Owwee }

image via Etsy Labs on flickr - click for more info

“Etsy… is a place?” One of Megan‘s students asked her.

“Yes, it’s a place,” she replied.

Etsy is a marketplace, a state of mind, a verb, and, yes, a very real place in Brooklyn where everyone looks so very, well, Brooklyn.

Traveling up the elevator, walking through the industrial hallways, entering the Etsy Labs, I couldn’t help but think how far things had come since my mom was putting food on the table through her sewing business. Could she have even imagined in 1992… or 2000… or 2004… that there would be a multi-million dollar company that encouraged people to come, hang out, and craft at their headquarters?

I think not.

On Tuesday, I had the privilege of attending the Etsy Success Symposium organized by the lovely daniellexo (above) and facilitated by many other fab Etsy admins.

Right now, I find myself in the midst of a rather beautiful & expansive discussion of social media – it’s relevance & “realness” – and my experience at Etsy just makes me more confident of my theory:

social media is as real as you make it.

I can tell you that when I hugged daniellexo as soon as we met, it was real.
I can tell you that when people said, “Are you…. Scoutie Girl?” adding how much they loved the blog, it was real.
I can tell you that when I put faces to Twitter handles and Etsy shops, there were no strangers, only friends.

The gratitude I feel for all the relationships I have nurtured through digital means is very real and very deep.

To me, arriving at Etsy was both a manifestation of a lifetime spent making, doing, and appreciating craft and a reminder that I have much (and many) to be thankful for.

My business outgrew the comfy confines of the couch about 6 months ago and this is the realization of a serious – and practical – goal.

My office is complete with a desk, a real chair, a huge closet, and a door. When dealing with a toddler and a husband who don’t understand my need for concentration (or talking loudly at the computer while video conferencing), a door is a necessity.

What I didn’t expect to come with the door is the very real sense that my business is now a job. Don’t get me wrong, I still love what I do. I’m still ridiculously passionate about living creatively, thinking big, and helping you do the same but I don’t want to be in this room until 3am every night.

And ya know? That’s a good thing. I’m working smarter. I’m keeping up with my email (well… almost). I’m ignoring Twitter when necessary and taking more phone calls. I’ve got a job that I’m taking more seriously than ever.

And it’s all thanks to a door.

The last 6 months have been a whirlwind of growth and progress in my business and have fulfilled many of the ideas I had for myself as a professional. But I’m feeling a real paradigm shift again. Big things are coming (literally: check back on Tuesday for a huge announcement), things are happening, the earth is shaking, and I’m not coming along for the ride this time. I’m making it happen. I’m in control.

Have you had a similar paradigm shift in your business? Tell me about it in the comments!

if you blog, you probably know the feeling that comes from participating in an activity only to think, “this will make a great blog post!”

i was struck by this new york times article about people who photograph everything they eat. not all are bloggers, but the idea is the same. documenting life has become completely pervasive in our digital society. every moment is something to be captured and considered.

and then shared with thousands – or millions – of people.

sometimes i feel like i live for the sake of my blog instead of blogging for my own sake. when you’re constantly behind the camera so that you can document special events for your readers or considering how you might make a profound point out of a humorous situation, life is exhausting. of course, there are many many more ways that life could be exhausting and i’m glad i’ve chosen this one.

on the flip side of making life exhausting, blogging has also forced me to do things i would have never considered before. things like offering consulting & brainstorming, venturing to major craft shows and actually introducing myself, creating a personal brand, attending networking events, and building a successful business. in order to appear more authentic on my blog, i’ve actually had to broaden my horizons – what a great trade-off!

i’m also struck by how many people are interested in the daily routines of people like me – and not at all life me, of course. not only has documenting life become pervasive in the digital society, but the need to connect with people on the most fundamental levels – the things we eat, the things we buy, the way we raise our children, etc… – has become a visceral urge. my blogs have duel purposes, to document my life & thoughts and to share information of value, but other blogs that i read on a daily basis – mackin ink, a beautiful mess, and smile & wave – are almost purely personal. i love it too! i’m so inspired by their lives and their point of view!

so – when you blog, do you think back on the things you’ve done & the way you live?

or do you live to blog?

{image credit: look at my party dress by kilsook}

My personal journey from high school to college, college to full-time work, and full-time work to mom to career, has been a convoluted one. I’m flattered that you’d even ask! But if my story can:

1. help you to understand me better. or
2. inspire one person that she can do it too

then it’s completely worth writing.

I didn’t start as a religion major, I applied to Lebanon Valley College as a music education major. To prepare me, I “interned” with my high school band director my senior year of high school. I quickly discovered that I was too big a perfectionist to teach kids music and that I wasn’t talented enough to teach anyone older or more experienced!

So, I entered LVC as a music (trombone) & religion double major.

During my four years, I switched back & forth from one to the other – ultimately graduating with a major in religion, minor (just a few credits shy of major) in music. What I discovered in all of this was a real passion for writing & communicating – oh, and a healthy dose of earth-shaking theology.

My senior year of college, I was completely hooked on religion. I applied to grad school and was accepted on a full-tuition scholarship to Syracuse University to study with one of my theology crushes. Freaking Awesome. I graduated, got a summer job, and waited to move out-of-state and start my life as an academic.

Oh… that summer job… I wanted to be surrounded by my old love: books or my new love: coffee. Luckily for me, I got a job as a barista at bookstore. Sweet! I could buy all the pretentious books I wanted & sip discounted coffee while doing it! I was hooked. A bit too hooked. Oh, and I’m still hooked on the caffeine.

Two weeks before I was to leave for Syracuse, my supervisor quit. Crisis of conscience. I could take a full time job at the place I love & figure out where my life was headed. Or I could follow a path I seemed destined for but offered no clear cut future. Crap. I took the job.

And I worked. hard. and harder. I made my way up the ladder, I took a frighteningly low level of pay to help run a multi-million store, manage human resources, supervise merchandising, and run a coffee shop. The company cut jobs around me and my pay stayed the same even as my responsibilities increased.

When I was 8 months pregnant, my general manager left for a new job. I applied, as I had been trained & groomed for the position. After a killer interview, I had a lot of confidence that I would have a great job & a pay increase to come back to after Lola was born. A week before I gave birth, I got a call from another manager that the position was filled. Not by me.

Obviously, I can’t make any claims that I was discriminated against due to my pregnancy, but I can tell you that that’s what it felt like.

So I had my baby, took my disability leave, stayed out my FMLA, and then quit.

I started out helping my mom with her Etsy business. Learning the ropes of marketing, teaching myself to blog again (I first started blogging in college), and discovering a thriving community of women just like me. In December 2008, my mom gave me the idea for Handmade in PA, my first serious blog.

It thrived! I was on cloud nine knowing that I had created something of value to people. I met Jan, the founder of Scoutie Girl, through Handmade in PA, after discovering through a coincidence of photography, that we lived just two blocks away from each other. We kept in touch, Handmade in PA grew & grew, and all the while Jan’s business grew in a way that made maintaining Scoutie Girl near impossible.

We began discussing the possibility of me taking over the SG side of her business. Slowly, very slowly, the idea took hold. And in July 2009, I purchased Scoutie Girl and took over editorial control.

I still go to the bookstore often. Last time I went, I saw a woman who worked for me & struggled with her dreams, never seeming to make them reality. She asked me what I was doing now: “I write.”

Wow. That’s what I do for a living: I write. I communicate. I call my own shots.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

{image credit: dennis wong via flickr}