Mama Self-Care Archives - Kara S. Anderson

Creating a basic daily checklist (FREE printable)

Last week, I was feeling overwhelmed.

This is nothing new.

I have been actively overwhelmed since April – probably you too, right?

But lately, I’ve been feeling particularly nervous. I have anxiety, and when it comes to fight/flight or freeze, I’m a popsicle.

Some days, just making a full daily plan is too much.

(Other times, it’s what saves me.)

Prioritizing self-care

My therapist has recommended focusing on self-care, but How? When?

So I decided to create a checklist.

The first version was like 62 things long.

I want to tell you – a daily checklist with too many things on it is pointless, especially when you’re anxious. We must practice some Essentialism here.

So I created a bare-bones, simple list.

And then I decided I’d share it, in case you feel overwhelmed right now too.

Something I want to point out – this list has stars on it. There’s a reason for that.

I want you to remember that you are already doing a lot. You’re already getting a lot right. If you got a star for each time you found the blue sippy cup, or smiled at your kids, or remembered to order something your family needs, you would be sparkling like the sun.

So please don’t put more pressure on yourself with this list.

But if you are going days at a time forgetting basics like drinking water and taking your vitamins, I hope this will help.

Here is my list for now:

Hanging On

A LOT of us are hanging on by a thread right now.

We are dealing with a pandemic, a contentious election, homeschooling and parenting. Many of us are caring for parents or other loved ones, dealing with mental health issues, trying to help kids navigate this huge feelings of this season, dealing with lay-offs, furloughs, job loss or cut-backs and otherwise just trying to do our best in one of the most stressful times in recent history.

My hope with this free printable is that it will give you structure and get things out of your head. But I don’t want it to add more pressure in any way, so if this isn’t for you – that’s OK. And, you get an extra star for knowing that!

Grab your free printable here.

Kara

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Homeschool decision fatigue: Give it 6 weeks

by Kara S. Anderson Leave a Comment

I got a message today that was basically the nicest bucket of cold water dumped upon my head.

The person was writing to me about decision fatigue.

I’d made it clear that this week had been a sort of challenging one (please see photographic evidence here), and she was gently reminding me that this time of year is so packed with decisions – what curricula materials to buy and from where; trying to create a new routine; new outside activities; should I hire that Spanish tutor …

It’s enough that my husband’s recent request that I ask a neighbor about borrowing his Shop-Vac almost made me cry with frustration.

Is it just me that feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and I’m just one misworded text away from everything crumbling?

So it was a friendly water-dump (the message – not the literal one that required the Shop-Vac), because suddenly it made more sense why this all feels like it’s A LOT.

Because it is.

And I really struggle with decisions, even micro ones.

I think that’s why I’ve been eating so many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches lately.

I mean, yes, they are delicious, but I’ve had one every day this week.

Sometimes it’s been a quick lunch, but other times it’s been something fast and protein-ish to keep me from falling apart.

I estimate I’m about 30 percent ground peanuts and sticky jelly at this point. The sandwiches could be physically keeping me together as well as emotionally.

But the ease can’t be beat. I don’t even mix up jam flavors. No decisions = No stress.

And I’m again so grateful for my homeschool sister Cait, who reminded me that I need to give “back-to-school” 6 weeks. That’s the mantra in traditional schools for teachers, students and parents.

It takes time to set rhythm and routines, and in the meantime, there are lots of decisions, and for some of us, that’s hard and so we need toddler lunches to keep us from yelling or throwing our belongings.

Speaking of decisions, a few weeks ago I made some big choices about our bookshelves.

Interestingly, we bought this house for the library, and yet displaying all of our books at once was not working here.

It actually all comes back to jam, and you can read about here.

Signing off from one week into my 6 weeks,

Kara

P.S. If you struggle with making decisions too, this is my favorite book on the topic!

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That’s not your thing.

by Kara S. Anderson 44 Comments

This is probably not new information, but you are not your best friend.

You’re not your sister, your husband, your know-it-all cousin or that lady at co-op who told you that kids who don’t read by age 4 are usually dyslexic. 🙄

And so, you don’t have to be their things, either.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about how everyone has their “things” — the things they love, the things they hate, the things that control them and define them.

Let me share a few of mine:

I love books and tea and my big, comfy bed. I love growing tomatoes and playing fetch with my cat and meals I don’t have to cook. I love travel and crushed ice and reading to my kids. I love really old men in blacks socks who buy one pear at the grocery store, salted chocolate, paper letters, small acts of kindness, warm hugs from loved ones and the way my husband’s hand feels in mine after all these years.

I hate cased meats and when the doorbell rings unexpectedly and listening to music that I’m not in the mood for. I hate milk and that poofy thing they do at the eye doctor and confrontation and artificial sweeteners. I HATE the sound of folding paper. And I hate “project toys” that never work the way they said they would and frustrate me and my child.

I don’t trust mayonnaise. I BELIEVE in butter.

These are my things. They make me me.

Other People’s Things

But plenty of times, I have tried adopting other people’s things, because they were passionate or loud about those things, and through their passionate loudness, they seemed to make sense.

I tried giving up paper towels like a friend who is incredibly fiery about the environment. I beat myself up when I would buy a roll, but I also had panic attacks when a pet would explode.

I tried making all our bread products from scratch like another friend, and found us living on Amy’s enchiladas while I waited for dough to rise.

The Other Homeschool Mom

And I have tried being another kind of homeschool mom. I’ve tried doing what the fancy, organized lady on the Internet says. I’ve forced circle times and banned computer time and spent too much money on curriculum that made me, my kids, or both miserable.

I took other people’s things — what they loved or what they hated — and I tried to make them mine. And it didn’t work.

It rarely does. Because they are not me.

Planning This Year …

So this year, as you sit down to plan your school year, I beg of you –factor in your things.

Think about what makes you happy, what scares you, what makes you want to throw your shoes, what makes you feel soft and safe on the inside.

Think about the power you have to make the year ahead good and positive.

Don’t worry about what other people are doing. Who knows — maybe their thing is being miserable?

But yours doesn’t have to be.

You don’t have to worry about anyone else’s things anymore.

You have your things, and it’s time to start living more of the ones you love.

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A beautiful, imperfect heart (on clarity and accepting ourselves)

by Kara S. Anderson 2 Comments

My soul sister Kortney gave me a beautiful gift recently – a polished quartz heart.

I don’t know a lot about stones or crystals, but I can tell you about this one: It’s heavy in my hand. Heavier than I expected, I guess. It’s perfectly smooth, and a sort of cloudy white with little sparkles that catch the light, like an ice cube that’s been soaking in a drink on a hot summer day.

The card that came with it said that quartz helps us connect with our clarity and find our way; and truly, finding my way has been a struggle of late. I think there’s been too much time to ruminate.

And so sometimes, I pick up the little heart and just hold it and breathe.

I know that sounds a little new-agey, but stick with me.

Holding my heart

The other day I was holding my heart – the quartz one – and I started looking into its depths.

I have to tell you – it’s kind of a mess in there. Fissures all over – up and down and left to right. I could handle them better in one direction.

If you hold it up to a window, light shines through the top and the bottom, but the middle is a little murky.

One line stretches across the whole thing – if I was trying to break it open like a coconut, I’d start there with a sharp implement and a hammer. I bet it would take one tap for it to split almost cleanly in two.

Then there’s the flecks. Close to the surface there are little brown speckles, almost like something got trapped in there.

Silicon + oxygen + spatulas

I tried reading a little about how quartz is made, and that’s just a hot mess.

Wikipedia says quartz is a combination of silicon and oxygen atoms, but literally, so is a lot of cookware, so that gets me nowhere.

I wanted to know if quartz was igneous, sedimentary or metamorphic because that’s what I remember from classifying rocks and gems, but it turns out quartz can be any of the three.

I wish I could ask my professor from college – a warm and caring man who wore plaid shirts and jeans to class each day, but what I remember is that after taking two classes with him, he retired to a cabin in Wisconsin, and I cried that he wasn’t going to be around anymore.

(That’s actually not all I remember. I remember confessing to him my non-traditional path through college, and him looking into my eyes and telling me it didn’t matter. I remember he made me feel safe; accepted.)

Both/And

And so I’m back to what I can see and feel – an absolutely perfect heart filled with imperfections.

How can it be both?

How can we be both?

I guess I’ll start with the fact that we’re not little babies, and so we’ve had time here and the world has beat us up a little.

Plus, we make mistakes. Every one of us. No matter how well intentioned we are. No matter how good our parents were or were not to us. No matter how hard we try.

And most of us, the moms I know – we try incredibly hard.

And then there’s that whole knowing what’s right and wrong thing.

Sometimes, it’s very simple, but lately – things feel messy and nebulous.

Clarity + imperfection

But I will say that this morning, my quartz heart is doing its job. It’s bringing me some clarity, and this is what I’ve come up with:

You can have a beautiful, but imperfect heart.

Things happen. They leave battle scars. In the case of my quartz heart – there’s that line – something could have broken it once, but it didn’t.

In fact, I’m convinced, if I threw this heart at my wall right now, it would be fine. I can’t say the same for the walls of this little 1926 Craftsman.

It reminds me of Mary Oliver, and the start of one of my favorite poems, Wild Geese:

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

We try. Lord, how we try.

And meanwhile our hearts wait for us to stop, and listen.