It’s been quite a while since I blogged anything about ADHD. As I looked over past blog posts, I realize I’ve taken a little vacation from learning and helping my daughter with it. I didn’t mean to, it just became easy to get complacent and right now I feel a bit chastened. Don’t get me wrong, I never forget it’s there. We deal with it every day as I struggle to find effective and successful communication with my teen daughter. But as she’s grown and made such amazing strides compensating on her own for the struggles, I’ve allowed myself to take a backseat. I haven’t been reading, learning and keeping up with information on it and I know how valuable that is. Today I just feel like I owe that kiddo a shout out. She is amazing and she can (and does) do hard things every single day!

In the past 16 months we’ve lived in three states, moved two and half times and lived in 4 different homes. That’s a boatload of new neighbors, schools, church friends and social experiences. It’s a lot of change to digest in a short time. In fact, it makes my head spin to see it written out like this! Top it all off with moving headlong into teen years and it’s no wonder I’m a bit dazed.

As a parent, it’s hard to know when and how to share important information about your kids. Everyone knows something about their children that others don’t. Sometimes this information is big, sometimes it’s small but either way it’s a balancing act for the parent to identify the right times/situations in which to share these nuggets of wisdom. You constantly ask yourself if sharing will result in greater good, or make things worse. For example, when my daughter began Kindergarten I made sure the teacher was aware of her adoption status. This wasn’t because I wanted to call attention to her being adopted, in fact quite the opposite as I wanted to avoid any awkwardness about it. I felt the teacher needed to know before her upcoming family unit that my daughter’s details about birth and inherited genetic traits would be different and potentially awkward. Moreover, at that age she herself was still developing an understanding and I needed to help make sure it was positive. It was the right time to share this information, but it is still deeply personal and can carry unexpected consequences good and bad; it has to be held carefully. Her ADHD is much like this and because of those unknown and potentially unexpected consequences, I tend to err on the side of sharing too little especially as she gets older and gains more independence. I also worry that sharing can result in preconceived ideas or judgements that could be more harmful than helpful. Most days I’m a drowning puppy just struggling to keep my head above water. This is when some of my friends would say they put a dollar in the jar for future counseling and just move on. You do the best you can at any given time with what you have, but you always worry that it’s not enough or too much.

Well, last week my daughter (now 14) had a run-in with a fellow classmate. I found myself sitting in a room with the teachers, my daughter, the other party and that child’s parent discussing the mishap and trying to resolve any unkind feelings. As soon as I understood the dynamics involved, it was obvious why there had been some fireworks. Unfortunately, I was the only one in the room who could see with that clarity because I was the only one who understood key information about my daughter’s ADHD. I found myself wishing I’d been able to share my knowledge before the confrontation. With my daughter’s permission, I was able to share it after with the teacher. While it ended on a positive note, I couldn’t help but question if I’d dropped the ball in the balancing act of sharing information which would have altered the conflict resolution scenario.

Here’s the reality. My daughter has ADHD. She will always have it. It won’t magically go away as she gets older. But as she continues to mature and develop she can learn to balance and counter its detriments and live a functional and happy life. The strides she’s made in the past two years are evidence of this. But it’s still hard and I often forget how hard. In reviewing past articles I’ve written on it I came across this list on communication and ADHD and immediately felt myself sink in my chair for how much I’ve forgotten. Four years ago I found this checklist and shared thoughts on it. The intent is for the person with ADHD to circle and rate which of the items in the list they either acknowledge themselves or have been told by others they struggle with. Constant review of the list can help them see if they’re improving. Where I felt short was the constant review because in four years the issues have shifted for my daughter a great deal.

Ability to identify and express your feelings
Check-repeat what you heard and ask if you heard it right
Join a conversation without disruption
Stay on track in a conversation
Identify and reflect feelings of others
Actively let others know you are following the conversation
Miss pieces of information-”blinks”
Ability to keep a conversation going
Voice too loud or too soft
Speak too quickly
Interrupt others
Too quiet-rarely speaking in conversations
Talk excessively
Order or boss others
Criticize-judge or make evaluative comments
Disregard or minimize statements of others

The reason I share this is an effort to help others understand what “hard” means for my daughter. Most of us have experience with several of the above issues at one point or another in our lives. But my daughter knows each item intimately and experiences all of them simultaneously, every single day. I can’t even imagine that. She doesn’t experience them because she’s not smart or doesn’t care, she experiences them because she has a medical condition that impedes her ability to communicate. She has no control over it happening, only learned responses in dealing with the results. Her condition, while not as visible as an eye astigmatism with corrective lenses, is every bit as real. In fact, the lack of visibility is harder on her because it feeds the lack of understanding and harsh judgements of those around her. I wish so much I could remember myself, as well as share with others how hard she works to keep relations good with everyone she knows. I wish the rest of us could have a little more compassion and understanding accepting her mistakes with it. If she can do hard things, so can we.

More of my thoughts on ADHD.

My thoughts this morning are centered around the time of year. The leaves are turning colors, getting ready for a winter sleep. This process of change, of preparing for a period of dormancy is a pattern in our lives too. A new baby makes me think of spring, a walk in the autumn air with an aged loved one makes me think of fall.

There is something about this turning I can’t quite explain. I think it is because it feels like something of a paradox to me. There is sadness in the knowledge of expiration, of a season’s growth and lifespan being completed and spent. Perhaps even a hint of dread for the quiet that is waiting around the corner. Yet, at the same time there is great joy and satisfaction in the results of a productive and full lifespan; a reminder that after the sleep will come a new season of renewal and new beginnings. It is odd that there can be both conflict and peace within the concept of turning. And yet, these are the thoughts tumbling around simultaneously in my head this morning.

There’s also the concept of clean up of that happens in the fall. The time when you’ve reaped your harvest and it’s time to clear the expired corn stalks and other plants away. This past weekend, I helped work on clearing the corn patch at my parent’s, I also took on getting some of the dead branches out of an old choke cherry bush. As I looked at the results of the work, I was struck with how often I should be doing this in my own life. How, I need to be looking for habits, choices, etc. that are in need of being cleaned out. This process is painful. I came home with many scratches from branches not wanting to be disturbed, and sore muscles from roots desperately trying to hold their ground. And as I look at this picture, I am filled with satisfaction and hope of what the results will bring next spring.

So it is with me. Old habits die hard, but the promise of better ones to replace them are worth the pain and effort. I don’t want to look back on my life and regret time wasted. Perhaps a little less time spent playing games or socializing on the computer and a little more reading, reflecting and writing. Perhaps a little less time worrying about others and more worrying about myself. I’m feeling a sense that I need to follow nature’s lead this season.

I’d be lying if I said these thoughts don’t also cause a slight pang in my heart when I think of loved ones. This picture describes the very visuals and precious memories that I’m trying to describe.

This is my husband walking and talking with his grandpa in his garden. Grandpa Melvin turned 90 this year. How we love this sweet man. This picture sums up his amazing life of farming, teaching, loving and sharing. How can I help but want to keep him with us? Yet, knowing the joy that is waiting for him when he crosses this life’s veil, when he will be reunited with his sweetheart and loved ones on the other side causes me to also want for him to be able to go. I am back at my paradox. Turning is hard. Turning is necessary. Turning is progress. Turning is good.

This post comes during a “life time-out”, or as it shall be known by me from this point on. A time when the daily life routine is interrupted for an important news flash. I’d be remiss not to follow the pattern and take a time out from my daily routine to write about it.

My heart is as full as my eyes at the moment, which just happen to be overflowing with emotion. I just hung up the phone with a friend. While content is personal, the feeling is universal. This dear friend isn’t someone I can put a tally of years next to, our time together was relatively short. It’s been several months since we had interaction, I’m chagrinned to reflect on the probability that I didn’t even get a Christmas card to her (I so hope I did!!). But here’s the magic, none of that matters because frankly, none of that matters. It’s not how long you know someone - it’s how well. It’s not the things you don’t do - it’s the things you do. Some people you get to know because you work with them, others because you serve with them, others because you share similar life experiences or live next to them, and the list of reasons goes on and on. The bottom line is there is a list and its bottom line is the same: people, that’s what it it’s all about folks, people.

On a day when my mood has been a reflection of the continuous rain outside (for all those friends who endure many days of rain, I have a newfound respect for you!), I can sit here at my computer and reflect how moments of interaction with friends through the day have brought me intermittent rainbows. One doesn’t know this because she was simply sending me an email which brought on some discussion during my day, but it was a rainbow all the same. In fact, most of the people who do much for me probably don’t know it. I try to express my gratitude and love often, but I know I miss more than I catch. If my friends who read and comment on my posts here could see what they do for my heart, they might be surprised. It seems so little a thing, but it all comes back to those who take the time to make the time. The busy dad in Oregon, the friend I met in a chat room so many years ago when our daughters were babes and who bless her heart still finds ways to find me and reach out to me, the co-worker from years ago, and the list goes on and on. Or how about that sweet lady who smiled at me at the grocery store, or the nice man who offered to take my cart when I’d unloaded the bags? Yes, they added rainbow fragments to my day too. If I had but the immediate memory and time to write about each of them I could fill an entire page. If I could extend it to those who have touched my life it would turn into volumes. If I could wrap it all up I’d have a lifting power beyond imagination. Isn’t that what it’s all about?

Trust in your heart. Trust in your feelings. When you find yourself thinking you should just call someone you should. It’s the someones in your life that make it worth living. It’s the calls you make that make the difference.

I’m taking a life time out to share my thoughts. To openly put out there how grateful I am for all the people that make my little world go round. You are many. You are amazing. You are what it’s all about.

It all started with a book. Well, I should preface that the most recent event started that way. I’m actually finding this is a repeating pattern in the waters of parenting a teen.

The new “thing” for my thirteen year old daughter has been to hang out with her friends at the library after school. Generally, I’m cool with this. I’m not so naive as to believe they’re only working on homework, I understand the social elements of this age group. I’m wary of their curiosity - well, more of them educating their peers on their own understandings of said curiosities - but I can’t stop the rain from falling. So I compromise, I take a second glance at the situation and here’s what I see: I can’t control everything, and honestly I wouldn’t want to. Experience is the true teacher, but it can still involve my guidance. So I let my daughter go be with her friends and I maintain a close connection and communication with her about what happens. She’s learning that for her honesty she’s rewarded with more freedoms and can continue to enjoy this activity of library gathering. I’m grateful for this pattern, though I don’t mind telling you it quite frankly scares the snarf out of me. Last week, I learned how her friend sitting next her was chatting with a cute boy on Facebook and how she kept pulling my daughter over to see the conversation. Suffice it to say, the boy was boldly sharing what he wanted to do to her in the too typical crude language of today. Good news, my daughter is frankly sharing an event of the afternoon. Bad news, it is so obvious that this behavior is viewed by kids as both acceptable and just the way things are today. Enter the reason for this post, the book.

We were driving home and my daughter asked me what ‘p u b e s’ spelled and meant. My first instinct is a negative relation, but I answer her honestly that I don’t know, it’s not even a real word to my knowledge. She hands me her book and says, it’s right here. I read the paragraph it was listed in:
~~~~~~~~~~~
Snow Angel: i could NEVER not shave my pubes. that is just gross. but even if i did have a pubic hair problem, which i do not, u and zoe would still luv me, right?”
~~~~~~~~~~~

So my first instinct was sadly right on target. But where did it come from? What’s the point in writing like this? So I go back a few paragraphs to find the reference and find this:

~~~~~~~~~~~
mad maddie: my brother’s new girlfriend doesn’t shave her pits OR her pubes. he brought her to this family party at lake lanier this weekend and she wore a bikini.

mad maddie: it was basically like she had a pelt. the pops pulled me aside and said in this really loud whisper, “guess she forgot to mow the lawn, huh?”
~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m speechless. Between wrestling with the content itself, the idea that dad would talk like this to his daughter, the grammar, etc. I feel like I’ve been swallowed in a torrent of information leaving me disoriented. Knowing that my daughter is waiting for a response, I ask her what caused her to choose this book. She says simply her friend told her she just had to read it that it was really great. She’s just started it, which was true as this was only page three. (Incidentally, later I asked her if she’d been able to realize in her first three pages that the book was going to be full of content not worthy of her time or in alignment with her values. She said no. This, I told her is why she needs to ask for my help so she can learn how to do that for herself.)

Side story, a few weeks ago another “friend” told her about a website she just had to go to because it too was really great. We’ll leave it stated simply that the video chat site referred to is a disaster. So pulling from this experience I gently remind her that sometimes our friends don’t have the best advice and it would be in her best interest to share their suggestions with me before diving in.

Okay, so reality check here. The stuff her “friend’s” are suggesting are definitely morally corrosive. The good news is, she’s sharing them with me. I hope this means I’m playing a few cards right and that I can maintain that relationship. I can’t imagine not knowing about this stuff she’s dealing with every day. It still scares the snarf out of me.

That last line by the way is the crux of this book’s author’s reasoning. Since being exposed to this book I’ve done a little research to see how other parents were receiving it. I found an article where the author addresses being under fire for her books. She states: “…that parents anger springs from fear.”

I would like to address this because there is fear here, as I’ve clearly stated but I don’t think it’s of the variety the author is describing. I’m not afraid of tackling tough and sensitive subjects with my kids. It comes up all the time. I’m actually a very big supporter of my kids hearing the right information - from me. I’ve got a very open door policy on talking honestly about what moral and sensual things mean. My fear stems from the flippant and rampant acceptance of crudeness and lack of moral compass views thrown at our youth. This time in their life is so turbulent anyway, they don’t need any help stirring the waters they are forced to navigate. While it’s easy to recognize the physical changes taking place, they’re far from the only thing developing. These adolescent years are formative brain development years, a time when their development turns to the frontal region as they begin developing their reasoning and impulse control skills - which by the way, won’t fully mature until their mid-twenties. This is one major reason why pleasure seeking activities are so prevalent among teens. Scientifically, we can now prove how their brains are starting to process differently rewards and pleasure. So they turn outward for more social interaction and peer pressure takes center stage.

THIS is what scares me. We’re taking our youth at their most vulnerable state and asking them to process very adult moral concepts and themes. And we’re asking them to do it before their ability to successfully process it is developed. I defy you to find an adolescent who didn’t feel that pleasure and reward rush from reading a book like this, even if they’re able to acknowledge the content isn’t of moral material. With such direct and powerful image wording and descriptions let alone the addressing of topics they’ve been told by adults they aren’t ready for yet, we’ve just sugar coated an already tantalizing treat. The danger to me is how we’re helping them form their thoughts and opinions during a time of key development. Most parents don’t want to be excluded from their child’s process during this time, but tools like this book are aiding that war as well. Morals never have and never will compete with the glitz and glamour of immoral, and those presenting immoral material will never share the realistic results of the behaviors. After all, no one wants to see the disease and hardships that come from immoral choices - there’s no fun, money or profit in that. Parent’s are already at the disadvantage and children are already vulnerable - why do we need to exploit both yet more? I don’t understand it. I mean, kids have every reason to target parents in their battle for independence, we make them brush their teeth, shower and finish homework. We’re evil. Trying to help them process and understand why content like that shared above is morally corrupt is fuel to an already glowing bonfire. This is where my fear turns to anger. So yes, I am angry and it does stem from a fear, just not the fear the author is talking about.

The only thing I know to do as a parent is keep up the second glance. I can’t take it for granted that what my daughter is doing or seeing is okay - even though I know she’s got the foundation of a strong moral compass - I’ve got to take second looks. I’ve got to stay involved no matter how hard because I’m my daughter’s best advocate while she’s growing her own armor. I can’t send her into battle without full protection. So until that brain is developed fully, you can bet your buttons I’ll be crusading in front of her and I’ll gladly take on authors like Lauren Myracle and all the content she’s addressing head on.

Other thoughts on parenting teens:
Independence

So I’m walking out of my son’s elementary school this morning and I hear the beginnings of the national anthem. I can’t help but reflect on this concept of independence.

In general, I’m a huge supporter. I love American history and revel in readings of the stories, personalities and events that shaped our nation. I believe with all my heart that there was divine direction in the creation of this land of the free, and I’m grateful for this land that I call home. I’m grateful that our forefathers had the determination and courage to stand up against those who would oppress them and their freedoms. I proudly support what they stood for and the legacy they left us.

Where I have problems with independence is in the teen department. My problem isn’t with the concept of independence, it’s with the attitude teens propagate in general - that to declare their independence they must first declare war. *sigh* I read an article as a youth which left lasting impressions on me, in fact, it’s where this very phrasing of declaring independence came from. The author shared a story of a man trying to help a bee escape his office in an effort to save its life. However, the more the man did to help direct the bee to the safety of the open window, the more feisty the bee became, not only refusing the help but fighting against it. The result was a dead bee on the floor the morning after. The point of the story was how like the bee we often are, resisting and fighting back unnecessarily against those that would help us; in the end destroying ourselves. I knew then I didn’t want to be like that bee.

For years I’ve shared this counsel and story with youth I’ve worked with. Now, my daughter is entering the troubled waters of independence. I wish I could say it was going the way I wanted all the time, but alas the entire point of this life experience is to figure things out on our own. This morning she stormed out of the house murmuring a familiar reprise of the overly restrictive parent and a desire to escape. The culprit? A stupid item of clothing. In her mind, mom is making way too much out of it, the shorts aren’t too short and she should be allowed to make her own choices. In mom’s mind the shorts break school dress code and were only purchased by permission with her own money on the agreed compromise that this argument would never come up - that they would only ever be worn at home for play purposes. I wish I could help her see that her anger is really targeted at herself, that mom’s an easy scapegoat in the world of peer pressure. But wishing won’t make it so.

I find myself echoing the familiar words of choosing to stand for something. I worry that our youth today don’t really understand this, that they mistakenly believe that being part of the crowd is just the way things are and doesn’t really impact them or their future. When something as simple as how you dress can cause so much distress, I worry for the big items the future holds. Every person needs a strong sense of self and self worth to survive this crazy world. You don’t get that by succumbing to the pressures of following the crowd. You get it by being able and willing to stand up for all the things you believe in and that make you who you are, right down to your ’shorts.’ You can’t be ashamed to be who you are, even if it defies the loose standards of all those around you. The sad part of the shorts story is that it’s not really what my daughter wants or believes in but she can’t see that. She’s so blinded by the season of life and influence of friends and peers she can’t see how this belief is undefined, far from unique and not even her own. Yet she’s ready to enlist in a battle for it, to join the chorus of youth in defiance of rules and restrictive authority. I question now my giving in to any compromise at their purchase months ago. Maybe I should have said no way no matter what. But then how could she learn of consequences? How could she learn of making her own decisions and avoided the fateful trap of resentment which leads to a desire of rectifying to the ultimate extreme the day she’s completely free to make all her own choices? There’s a recipe for disaster, making decisions on purely emotional premises, worse premises imagined and exaggerated - this is the future of the feisty bee. I don’t want my daughter to be the bee, and I don’t want her to want to be the bee.

Now I know my daughter is young, I know these years are formidable and critical, I know she’s a good kid and I know that her wanting to wear short shorts is a drop in the bucket of real and serious issues. The problem is I also know that the adversary also knows she is young, that these years are formidable and critical and that she’s a good kid. He’s neither young nor good, and this frightens the snarf out of me. If she starts adopting the views, attitudes and beliefs of those around her now the chances of surviving these tumultuous years without scarring are nil. The saying goes that if you don’t stand for something you’ll fall for anything. I believe this simply analogy of the shorts is why, after all it all starts somewhere and it doesn’t start with fireworks; no it starts with the tiniest bit of wear and tear to weaken the fabric. Today it’s shorts, tomorrow it’s something bigger. Sadly, it’s all wrapped in the lies that there are no consequences, no accountability. The short shorts so typify all this, and so ends my analogy of the shorts.

But that’s all that ends. My efforts to help my daughter wade through the waters of independence will never end. Her learning life’s lessons of accountability are just beginning. Agency is given to all, but independence is earned. Earn it wisely my young friends, earn it wisely.

Sweetheart, today you turn twelve. It doesn’t seem possible, and yet I know I’ll feel the same way when you hit sixteen and that will be here before I know it. As a parent you long for your child to reach new milestones all the while wishing against hope that you could keep your precious ones small. You’re growing up before my eyes, but you’ll never outgrow my heart. You see, you are the champion of my heart.

That heart skipped beats before and until your arrival. Oh it tried desperately to achieve regularity and stability, but all was in vain without you. Something inside simply knew it wasn’t complete. I prayed and prayed for that completeness to come. I cried, worried, mourned and despaired over the emptiness only you could fill. For many years I wondered at the future of my heart. For the first time in my life I began to doubt.

They say the brightest rainbows come after the darkest storms. Well dear, your rainbow surpasses description. You are the champion of my heart. You won it over the moment I laid eyes on you, when you were still in your mother’s belly. I felt a tingle in that empty place. The ache in my arms was replaced with such warmth and love the first time I held you, my baby sweet. You were everything I’d hoped; everything I’d dreamed; everything I’d wanted. You still are.

So you see, you can never outgrow my heart for you grew in it. You played a critical role in completing it. You are the champion of my heart.

She keeps growing without permission. I find myself looking back at what felt like yesterday, even though the calendar says different, and wondering if I’ve given her everything I wanted to. I can’t help but think about life before my Cidderbug and how grateful I was to finally get her in my arms. Now she’s squirming away into the uncharted waters of young womanhood. Does she know how much I love her? Does she know how sad I am when she’s sad? How my heart aches when she struggles with something challenging? How proud I am of her every accomplishment?

Sometimes the daily hum drum of life drowns out the important things. I relive all the moments and mistakes when the patience ran thin. My memory is longer than hers for most of these things - thank heaven for tender mercies. We are our own worst critique they say. Most of the time I find myself treating my measuring stick like a bank register except I only ever seem to record the deficits. But then you get those glimmers when your child does something that makes your heart so proud it feels it might burst, those moments when you know you did something right. Those are the times when the Lord steps in and writes in your deposit for you.

Parenting is a whirlwind. It’s a crash course of learning you never knew possible. The climbs are harder and steeper than you thought you had the energy or strength for, and the views are incredible beyond description. The time you have them in your clutches is far shorter than the time they’ll spend being independent, yet when they’re young it consumes you to the point you can’t imagine them growing beyond you. And then you turn around and there they are looking back at you.

Lately my husband and I have been having a great deal of conversation on the importance and learning curve of finding one’s balance with regards to the many options for using our time in today’s world. Many of our friends are venturing into online activities for the first time and they’re in the spiral of recognizing for themselves the need to establish balance. We’ve been involved for so long that we’ve almost forgot what it was like when everything was new and how easy it is to become unbalanced. And we’re not perfect at it, we’ve just had a lot of practice. *wink*

One thing I keep hearing in conversations and discussions is the extreme view that recent technologies are either evil or good. It’s a silly case because as with all things they’re both because the potential lies with the user and their agency. Some will use it for good, others for evil. In my humble opinion, I think it’s supremely important to remain an active force for good. Which is why I smile inside knowing how many of my younger friends on Facebook may be thinking twice before they post or share something just knowing that I may see it. *giggle*

My first learning curve came in 1999. I was the mother of a beautiful little toddler and an active advocate for adoption. Online activities were starting a real upswing then and I became involved in many boards and forum discussions on the topic of adoption. I entered my first chat room on an adoption website and met a wonderful group of friends, some of whom I remain in contact with today. We were exposed to extreme anti-adoption personalities on the site that would come to stir up a great storm of mud and ugly. I didn’t like it at all, and sometimes it made me sick to my stomach - made me want to run away and hide from it all. But then that rebellious spirit kicked in and I knew I wanted to fight back for good. I started posting more actively on some of the discussions, especially those that were trying to undermine the potential positives of adoption. It was here that I began to cultivate a necessary and wonderful skill of really thinking through what I shared, of being extremely careful of my wording and my shares so they could not be misconstrued. This is doubly important because with text communication there is no body language, facial expression or voice inflection to get your point across or clarify your intent. It was also during this time that I recognized the dangers of being involved in something so interactive. While a TV can keep you entertained for a while, a chat room could get you addicted with a need and desire to come back often and to put off other things because it was interactive; in this relationship you were getting something back for your time making it far too easy to spend too much of it online. I believe it was the day my toddler buttered our Yorkie pup that I realized other duties might be slipping for my time spend visiting online with other adoptive and hopeful adoptive moms. (I fully expect a comment on this from Pookie’s mom!) But it was the day I caught myself telling her “Just one more Elmo” for the 3rd time in a row that I recognized I needed to fix something. I had to step back and begin to limit my time spent interacting with all these wonderful people who shared interests from adoption to religious beliefs and more so I could balance my time spent in the “real” world with my family, neighbors and friends. It was a fantastic and eye-opening learning curve for me and a lesson I’ve never forgotten.

So when blogging hit the scene, I found it much easier to enjoy it without letting it take over my time. I’d already had the learning curve on website forums and chat rooms as well as e-mail groups to help prepare me. Although, it still took some adjusting as it was too easy to spend hours reading other people’s blogs and getting caught up in how many would come read my own. For a while in the beginning it was delightful to see a Technorati rating run up and blogging awards find their way to you. It was easy to lose focus on both my purpose and my time spent there. Again, I met many wonderful friends, many of whom I remain in contact with on a regular basis. My learning curve expanded. So when Facebook exploded I had the advantage of all this learning behind me. It wasn’t a temptation to get involved in quizzes and games that seems to suck away the sands of time from my daily hourglass. I’d already done that with all the blogging memes when they first surfaced. It was a fun way to reconnect with people I grew up with and I dearly love that ability. While some people complain about not caring about what someone is doing, I find it an easy and fast way to interact with them. People who I would not normally run up to and have a conversation because of geographic or time gaps get a simple thumbs up from me or a comment that I hope they’re feeling better if they shared they’ve got a headache - both things that I was unable to do a few years ago. It doesn’t take as much time as e-mail or reading a blog and I like that ability. It is also a great way to develop and extend new friendships with others. Just this past weekend I was able to easily strike up a conversation with someone I’ve never spoken to face to face before simply because I’ve commented and interacted with her on some status updates on Facebook. It melted that first and awkward barrier and the result was wonderful.

All this said, I know many who are currently struggling with their own learning curves. For many of my friends tools like Facebook are their first venture into the online world. It has all the elements of everything I’ve experienced slowly to this point in one place. It is chatting, gaming, socializing and sharing and consequently I hear many friends express shame or worry over how much time they spend there. Each time I tell them the same thing. I tell them of my own experience and how natural it is to have to find your own balance with these modern technologies, but if they are diligent it will come. The first and most important step is simply realizing you’re out of balance because a problem to be fixed must first be seen.

I do worry for our youth who are growing up with all these tools and digital technologies as part of every day life. Their adjustments will be different because there’s no “new” element for them, it’s just life as they know it. I worry that they will sacrifice the blessings that come from personal interaction and service because it’s more comfortable to sit and text or visit online. I worry that they seem to be missing important lessons such as not sharing or posting information that doesn’t belong to you be it news or photos. I worry that they won’t be able to see the long term impact of sharing something silly when they’re mad or just feeling silly. I worry that they don’t understand what it means to “share” in today’s world; that they are providing proof for anyone to use for or against them. And I worry most because I see their parents struggling to learn these same lessons. My husband keeps telling me it’s time to expand my charm school training into an e-etiquette course! Maybe he’s right. *smirk*

So for all the positive, there is equal negative. It was ever thus. I just feel a need to share that it is what we make it. A private family blog can be the most wonderful and easy way to retain valuable communication and record family histories. It’s the best of both worlds because journaling and scrapbooking can be combined. Now you can even click on an option to have your entire blog published into a beautiful hardback book. These tools can make important things easier and within the reach of everyone. That same blog can also be a source of hurt and exclusion if what is shared is not done with care.

Although there are times when many of us would love nothing more than to be separated from this crazy world we live in, we are not here to be excluded. We are here to learn how to live in this world and grow, how to develop self control and positive traits, in short to learn how to become better people. It’s not easy, but it can be done. Balance can be found if it is sought after. Life is rich when it is obtained. Our ancestors have all experienced it. I’m sure the radio was an addiction in its day the same as TV and every other enhancement and advancement that’s come along. In so many ways striking balance is at the heart of our feeling successful and satisfied. As long as we don’t lose sight of that every tool that comes down the pike will be an advantage for us.

There’s a lot to be said for comfort zones, both for and against them. On one hand they’re our adult security blanket that can help us feel secure and safe. On the other, they can become a barrier and stunt growth.

Several years ago, my husband and I made a painful (and previously yo-yo process) decision to move to Fort Collins, CO for a job possibility. I say painful, because we weren’t looking for it and in some ways felt pressured into it. Once we realized that we were waiting for the impossible scenario that the decision would make itself because the salary and benefits offered would make it easy to decide to move, we were able to realistically look at the opportunity and make the decision ourselves. We learned many things from our 3 months there but the lesson at the top of the list was how comfortable we’d grown being uncomfortable.

I know that sounds contradictory, but it was true. It’s not that we weren’t happy where we were before, but until we moved out of that comfort zone we couldn’t have realized how comfortable we had grown with our own mediocrity. That push caused us to identify and reach new horizons - a pattern that has since repeated itself over and over as we’ve learned to seize opportunities when they surface.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of discussions with friends and family about the value of being friendly. It strikes me that too often we can come across as unfriendly to those we meet or run into simply because we’re “comfortable” with our existing friends, etc. We don’t mean to appear exclusive or uninterested, some of us just require a little nudge out of our comfort zones.

So lately, I’ve been on the lookout in my own life for the times when I start to justify or rationalize not doing something. I’m beginning to catch myself and address this ‘knee jerk reaction’ and I’m amazed at the results. It’s just like retraining myself to tell my kids yes more than no - another comfort zone that seems to sneak up on you.

I’m finding this is a lot like exercising. When I feel those sore muscles that cause discomfort I can’t help but smile because I know that by working them positive things are happening. It’s rarely easy, never convenient and always requires sacrifice but the results are always worth it.

I wonder why it’s so easy to establish comfort zones about the silliest things; why it’s so easy to give ourselves ample excuses and reasons to stay there. Now that I say that, I do understand the primary reason because if I apply this to my ability/desire to get out of bed in the morning I totally get it. I don’t want to because I love that warm comfortable spot and the ability to do nothing but sleep!

So what do you do to help you identify and stretch your comfort zones?