eBook Fundraising

I'm excited to announce the release of my first book, "eBook Fundraising." It's a comprehensive guide to planning a fundraiser using an eBook created by and for your school or organization. BookBaby.com picked it up and is offering it as a FREE guide on their website. That's right! I said it's FREE for you to download to your computer or eReader!

As parents we always seem to be fundraising for something, and always looking for new fundraising ideas. I know, with four kids, I'm involved in 10-20 fundraisers per year. Many of us have also wanted to produce student anthologies, just for the sake of encouraging our kids to write. With this guide you can do both at the same time. Raise funds for present needs, and foster creative expression for posterity. How great is that?!?

Download your FREE guide to "eBook Fundraising" now, and be sure to share the link with your community.

When you use it, come back here to share your eBook in the comments, and let me know how it worked for you. I'm waiting anxiously to see what you produce!

***This book was recently pulled for a revision. I'll keep you posted when it comes out again.

Confessions of an Over-Sharer

This post will inevitably contain TMI. That's just how it is with me. I try to be brief and not bore people with my enthusiastic recounting of the details of my life, and all the interesting things I've learned, but I know I fail. After a great deal of personal reflection, I've decided I don't care. There are reasons I over-share, and they're good reasons. Perhaps an explanation will help the rest of you have a little sympathy, and maybe a little grace, for the over-sharers of the world. 

1) My parents don't speak the same language. It sounds like English is coming out of both of their mouths, but I assure you that interpretation is always required. The simplest way to describe it is to say that my dad is a PC and my mom is a Mac. This digital difference is really just an extension of a deeper communication difference. As I grew up in their house, I'm "bilingual." I listened to them argue endlessly about things they agreed on, because they each expressed it differently.

Because I understand that two people can hear the same thing differently, I always feel obliged to offer lengthy detailed explanations that I'm hoping will cover every possible interpretation. This is especially the case with instructions. People who get things easily often make fun of lengthy detailed instructions, but people that write them have to explain it for the most confused and frustrated possible reader. Thorough instructions at the outset alleviate mistakes and calls for help in the end.

2) My family is also Pentecostal, and two ideas from the Bible made a strong impression on me as a child. They undoubtedly contribute to my problem with over-sharing. First, God is omnipresent, and omniscient. He sees and knows everything I do and think. Second, there is a verse in the Bible that says everything that is secret will be revealed and everything that is done in private will be shouted from the rooftops.

I'm neither surprised nor bothered by government surveillance. I've never lived with the idea of privacy. In my way of thinking, everything I do is already known and may someday be broadcast. In a way, these ideas have better prepared me for the inevitable and quickly coming end of all privacy. But, because I've already thought of whether I'd be okay with the world knowing what I'm doing and thinking, before I choose to do or think a certain thing, I probably censor myself less when later sharing my life experiences with others.

3) My hometown is on an isolated island in Alaska, and even among my small group of peers I was an oddity. So, my early childhood was spent in a very internal disconnected way. As I reached my teens and became more aware of the world, I made a conscious choice to push myself out into it.

I didn't understand all the social subtleties, and I thoroughly pissed off my older brother by recounting his life to his friends...and possibly a few random strangers. But I was so desperate to connect to real people (as opposed to fictional people) that I didn't think of his discomfort at the time. His life was so much more interesting to talk about than mine. He was cool.

Now that I'm a lot older, I see many people who feel depressed and disconnected. They're afraid, and hide their real selves in silence. They wish they had someone to talk to, but are embarrassed to speak. We can't connect if we don't communicate. That doesn't always mean talking, but talking is a good place to start. Not everyone will want to reciprocate my efforts at connecting, but I'll never find the ones that do if I don't open up my mouth. I like people. I think they're mostly interesting. And there are people in this world who like what I have to say and want to enter into a conversation with me. Finding them is worth annoying a few who don't.

4) When I was in my early 20s I did presentations in schools for an abstinence based sex education program. I was motivated by the complete uselessness of all the many hours of sex ed I received in school. It starts in fourth grade and in high school they spend an entire year on it, but when I got married I discovered how irrelevant most of it was, and how much important information had been overlooked. I got comfortable talking about this subject with teenagers. I also went on to become a certified doula and now feel completely comfortable talking about all aspects of pregnancy, childbirth, and breastfeeding.

There are a lot of things wrong with what Americans believe about all of these subjects, but these wrong ideas persist because we don't talk about them. What women have shared for thousands of years, what made them strong, has become a taboo subject in the modern age. I believe we will only experience true liberation and strength as women when we become willing to talk to each other about these important subjects again. We will experience more equality in our relationships with men when we don't feel ashamed about, or inferior in, our own bodies. We have the freedom to speak. This is a super power.

5) Parents are often the worst over-sharers and parenthood has given me so much more to tell you about than you could possibly want to hear. But among parents, sharing is often the only vent we have for our frustrations with a life that we could never have fully anticipated. We share the good and the bad because both are so overwhelming they push the boundaries of our comprehension. We want to know that others have shared our experiences and survived. And we can always use sympathy, and fresh ideas for dealing with old problems. I love to hear what others are doing.

We also want to celebrate our kids' achievements, not because we view them as our achievements, but because we've shared their struggles. It's the same reason everyone talks about an Olympic athlete who wins gold after sustaining an injury. We witnessed the pain, felt deep empathy with it, therefore, we can't help our excitement over the triumph. Only, the rest of you weren't watching our kids struggle, so it's hard to share our enthusiasm.

6) That we celebrate the achievements of others is one of the most beautiful things about my family. No one is diminished by the success of someone else. We live in a competitive and critical world. We judge everything from movies to clothes, to melons in the grocery store. I think we feel all that criticism lingering in the air. We're all hungry for words of affirmation. Our mothers' admonishments, "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," aren't enough. We should admonish our children, "if you think something good about someone, say it!" In this area, I'm trying to share more. I want to tell people when I've been thinking of them, how I admire them, what I appreciate about them. This can make some people uncomfortable, because they've gotten used to a lesser view of themselves. They try to deflect praise. "Thank you," and, "I know," are both perfectly acceptable responses IMO.

7) The more of the world I've seen, the more I've come to realize that, there are more ways to live a happy life than anyone can count. I'm interested in hearing about how others live, the choices they've made in life, why they've made them, and how that has affected their view of the world. Because I'm interested in hearing about all the details of others lives, I suspect there are others who must be interested in hearing about my life. I don't want to gossip. I'm just fascinated by how different we all are, and how, in spite of vast differences, some things about us can be the same. I'm perpetually examining my own motivations and results, and assume others are too. Though I've discovered that assumption isn't true in general, there are exceptions to be found and I'm on the hunt for them.

That's why I'll probably continue to over-share, even though I'll keep trying to be brief. In the end, it won't matter much whether I've succeeded or failed. I'm living my own personal version of a happy life and don't have time to worry about what other people are thinking of me. Especially since they probably aren't.

An Optimist and a Pessimist decide to homeschool...

The pessimist doesn't want her child exposed to ideas that contradict her belief system. 
She doesn't want to have to confront or convince a teacher because her arguments don't seem to make any impact.
She's afraid her children will be indoctrinated by the government in some way if they go to public schools.
She doesn't want to hear that her child may have a learning disability that means they need special instruction or that could be treated with medication.
She thinks a school psychologist is just someone that messes with kids brains and blames any perceived problems on the parents.
She's afraid her children could be taken away if someone finds out she's made some extremely different life choices for her family, like refusing vaccinations, eating a severely restricted diet, or being nudists at home and on vacations.
She believes the public schools will not adequately prepare her child for college.
She's afraid, and all her motivation is about what she doesn't want for her child.

The optimist sees that her child is not doing well in school and thinks, if I homeschool I can meet the needs of my child that the school isn't able to.
She learns about how she can intervene in dietary and environmental ways to improve behavioral problems, but sometimes even tries medication as an intervention.
She values the evaluation of her child's learning abilities by professionals because it allows her to better target her instruction and interventions.
She goes out of her way to expose her children to a wide variety of ideas and beliefs, trusting that the same evidence that she built her belief system on will provide a firm foundation for her children when they reach the age to decide for themselves.
She appreciates the oversight of the government as it legitimizes her child's educational achievements and keeps her accountable for teaching the basics.
She sometimes makes what seems like extreme life choices because she follows current research and doesn't have to wait for societies approval to adapt to new revelations.
She sees the unique strengths, weaknesses, and interests of each child and plots a course of instruction to prepare them to excel in a life they love, whether or not that means going to college.
She knows that she can do more and better than a teacher with twenty kids in a classroom, and her motivations are all about what she can do for her child.

If you haven't figure it out yet, this isn't a joke. I shudder when I hear another pessimist has decided to homeschool, because they often think that even if they fail at teaching their child anything good, at least their child isn't being exposed to all that bad stuff in a public school. Those are the ones whose children fall behind and can't even pass the GED test when they realize their parents haven't kept up with the government paperwork needed to get them a real diploma. They end up ignorant and sheltered, a certain recipe for an unhappy life.

Homeschooling is far too important a choice to be made from a position of fear. That's not to say that there aren't legitimate concerns parents have about public, and private, schools. Especially when they have children who don't fit into the typical mold. Many children could benefit from the kind of educational freedom and customization that homeschooling allows. But, I would highly recommend changing your viewpoint before you change your school. If you can shift your attitude and motivational directives, you will be far more successful.

Homeschooling is a difficult endeavor. You will need a lot of motivation to keep going. Positive motivators always outlast negative ones. Whatever the concerns you first enumerated, whatever thing made you look into homeschooling in the first place, try flipping it around to a positive statement of what you can do if you make this change. Don't homeschool because you're afraid; do it because of all the possibilities!

To the mother of that screaming infant in Target,

Mea Culpa

The other day, I was browsing the clearance section of the toy department at Target, because it's August and they're moving out last year's toys at 70% off to make room for this years Christmas fare, when I heard the blood curdling scream of your baby. Not the communicative crying that can be solved with a bottle or a diaper change, but the scream of last resort precisely honed by nature to cause every woman in the vicinity to respond with an adrenaline surge. Forced into action by my DNA, I searched until I found your child and determined that he was with you, being taken care of, and not about to become lion chow.

Your red faced infant had not ceased his caterwauling, and you struggled to appease him while determinedly shopping on. I thought to my self, "Shut that child up woman! Why are you here with him?" Then immediately felt sorry for my reaction because...I have been you. That's right. I have been the bedraggled mother dragging a screaming infant through a store. How could I have forgotten so quickly?

During my 'decade of childbearing' as I call it, I was either pregnant or breast feeding, with a mere six months at a time between the cessation of the latter and the commencement of the next former. For that decade I lived in a haze of sleep deprivation and hormone induced short term memory loss. There were moments of unprecedented bliss. Moments, I knew, would never be surpassed. But it was mostly a lot of misplaced urine and fecal matter, and tests of physical and mental endurance that have inoculated me against the idea of "I can't" for the rest of my life. If you survive parenting four children through to age seven, you know there is nothing else out there in the world that you can't do.

At age seven it gets a lot better. If you're lucky, you're not washing wet bed sheets every day anymore. The children can get themselves ready for school each morning and bed each night, and they can at least pull their own weight as part of the family. They don't need someone especially taking care of them every second anymore. When they ask for a drink of water you can tell them to get it themselves, and they won't flood the kitchen.

My youngest is seven now. My brain is no longer fuzzy. As I chastised myself for my uncharitable thoughts toward you, I fully realized the purpose of that hormone induced short term memory loss. When people tell you to enjoy those younger years because they'll be over too soon, it's because of that memory loss. When a woman snuggles up to her husband and whispers, "don't you think we need one more baby?" it's because of that memory loss. When you look at some other parent with a misbehaving tyke, and think they ought to just take care of that situation so the rest of the world doesn't have to hear it, it's because of that memory loss. You'll appreciate that memory loss someday.

Yes, there are moments that will be the greatest natural highs of your entire life, but those moments are pitiful compensation for long crushing lows that seem to move in slow motion, when you're forced to take a screaming infant with you to Target because you're out of teething tablets, or diapers, or food for the rest of your family. I'm sorry young momma. It's my fault I forgot. I'm sure you've got a good reason to be out with that bawling monstrosity. No one would do it for any purpose shy of desperation. I'm not sad those years are behind me. You'll get through this too.


*** This post was featured in the Redwood Empire Mensa Bulletin, Nov. 2013 edition.

The "S" Word

What do you do about the "S" word?

I've shocked a few mothers over the years who happened to be sitting nearby when one of my children came to complain, "Mom, (other child) called me stupid!" Or ugly, or bossy, or fill in the meanie comment here.

The most common response I've seen from other parents is a full on intervention in the children's activity, complete with forced apologies and a banning of the "S" word. We don't have any banned words in my house. We have large vocabularies and when we have a problem with something they say, ask our children if they know what a given word means and if it's really the word they want to use.

So, how do I respond that shocks other mothers? I ask the child flatly, "Is it true?"

The child, after coming to a startled halt in their oncoming whine fest, almost always responds, "No."

If it's not true, then why are you listening to someone who clearly doesn't know what they're talking about? One of life's most important lessons is that you can't change other people, you can only change how you respond to them. I want my children to think critically about what they hear, about themselves and about the world in general. Rather than responding to criticism and rejection by acting out against the other person, I want them to be able to brush it off quickly with the truth. This is also an opportunity to practice empathy. Why do they think the person called them that?

Every now and then, a child will think about it and answer, "Yes."

Why does the child think it's true? What should they do about it? Do they need to change something about themselves, or accept it as part of their identity and be at peace with it. This is a great opportunity to learn how to process and grow through criticism.

Someone else's true accusation is not always something we should be ashamed of. I've been called "princess" in a derogatory way, but I don't have any problem with being a princess. My definition of princess is someone who is influential, responsible, and confident. Because I know who I am, accusations against my identity cannot stick to me.

This is a vital life skill. Even though my maternal instinct to intervene and protect my children is as great as any mother's, I force myself to be detached because I'm holding on to a long term view of life for them. Whenever possible, I avoid intervening in the arguments of children. Instead, I try to give kids the tools to handle conflict on their own, then send them back into the fray.

Residual Self-Image

I loved the part in "The Matrix" where Neo is being trained, and his residual self-image is explained. I especially love that term, "residual self-image." Having four daughters, I'm often caught by articles about body image and self-esteem. They're everywhere. And I just don't get it. There are so many ways to be beautiful. Why are so many woman carrying around such terrible residual self-images?

I'm always a little surprised when I see myself in a mirror because I'm not as stunning as I feel just walking around. My residual self-image is perhaps a bit out of touch with reality at this point. I'm still thirty flirty and fine in my mind. I guess I never registered any of the negative input out there. I still love my Barbies, but never thought I ought to look like them. I see skinny models and think they look like bony refugees. It's perhaps one of the few body types that aren't beautiful to me.

A woman is never more beautiful, in my opinion, than when she's growing with child. I love that modern maternity fashion is celebrating the shape instead of trying to hide it. Even the post-partum body is beautiful as it transitions into the softer curves of a fertility goddess. It's a shape that drives men crazy on a subconscious level, scientifically demonstrated to be more attractive to them than a bikini model figure. Don't women know this?

Why am I so out of touch with this apparently huge problem?!? In my ignorance, I seem to be raising daughters who are just as self-confident about their bodies as I am. Thank goodness for that. But how? And is there something useful I can contribute to women and girls who struggle with this issue?

Many feminists seem to think the problem begins with fairy tales, in which pretty girls are always good and ugly girls are always bad. This makes no sense to me either. When I read fairy tales, I saw that good girls grew beautiful, and bad girls made themselves ugly. This was affirmed by my life experiences, in which persons with a mean disposition quickly lost their beauty to foul facial expressions, and a kind heart could always be seen shining beautifully, even in unconventional faces.

There also seems to be some confusion between the terms beautiful and attractive. If you struggle to understand the difference, go to an art exhibit. A book won't do. You have to view art in person. Look deeply at each piece. Learn something about the artist. Observe how works that are not initially beautiful to you can still draw you in. They're still attractive. Then watch as a work that attracted you can become more beautiful as you learn about it and respond to it. Attraction is much more complex, much more open ended. Attraction does not require beauty. And it carries far more potential. Beauty is entirely subjective, an ever changing ideal that exists moment by moment in the eye of the beholder. The only way to feel beautiful all the time is to be your own beholder, to subject yourself to no opinion but your own. But you can be attractive without beauty.

Fortunately, we are wired to be attracted to the faces that surround us in infancy. Usually, these are faces that resemble our own. Thus, for every variant genetic group, there are others out there who are wired to find us beautiful, and vice versa. This is why people tend to end up marrying within their own racial group, unless they grew up in a more diverse extended family or community. We all know there are numerous exceptions, but the overall data still supports this. If you're judging your face and figure against someone outside of your group, you're denying the beauty that is in your variation. You're saying that something about your genetic/racial identity is inferior to someone else's. Your community should bitch-slap you for that. You're a beautiful representation of them, and you have every right to stand proudly next to the beauties of other groups. The genetic diversity of the human species is stunning in its scope. To say that one collection of DNA data points is the ideal of beauty for all is utterly ridiculous.

Facial symmetry has received a lot of attention recently as an arbitrary definer of beauty. But while the data suggests more symmetry is initially more attractive, other data suggests that after a certain point it becomes repulsive. Not that we don't want to look at it, but we don't trust it to lead to a stable loving relationship. Being a little off kilter adds interest to a face. It makes it easier to connect with. To be comfortable with. Magazines are filled with perfect faces, because we are attracted to them in an obvious way. Artists like to work with awkward ones, because they are attractive in a more complex way. Whichever you have can be attractive, but both are spoiled by expressions of discontent and judgement.

When it comes to our reproductive imperatives, youth will always be more attractive. We can never return to our youth, but we can sure accelerate aging with an obsession over beauty treatments. Beaty treatments and products are not tested or approved by any governing body. When I've observed a beautiful older woman, she's always had a simple skin care routine, minimal makeup, and a tendency to be content with her life. The latter being the key. Stress ages you prematurely, so the last thing you want to stress about is looking older. With age comes maturity, education, experience, and a host of other attractions that will keep you in good company if you acquire them.

The one aspect of beauty and attraction that we have the most control over is our health. I can carry thirty extra pounds fairly discreetly, but I know that I would feel and look better if I got rid of that extra weight. I have a skin condition that can easily be covered by makeup, but makeup irritates it and makes it worse. I choose to wear it only for important occasions and accept the skin I'm in the rest of the time. There are treatments that could clear it up for a time, but they're expensive, and not a priority over things like braces for the kids. We can eat better, exercise more, and treat our bodies better, and we should. Not to look like someone else's ideal of beauty, but to be the healthiest we can be, because healthy is always a beauty improvement. If you're not there, like me with my extra 30 lbs., don't ever just accept it. Do something. Even if you fail, making an effort is attractive. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who is trying? If you keep trying new activities, and new ways to track your calories, you'll eventually find something that works for you. There's not one system and one workout that works for everyone. We're too diverse.

That's why I insist that there are many ways to be beautiful. As many as there are women. If anyone has told you otherwise, they lied to you. If you believe them, you lose your most attractive quality, your confidence. You give up all your control and let yourself become what they said of you. Do you want to be what some liar said you are?

The truth is, people who can't see the beauty in others have a problem with their perceptions. The truth is, you can become more beautiful without changing anything external about yourself. The truth is, your residual self-image is more important than how you actually look on the outside. The truth is, when you see the beauty in yourself and others, you will naturally become more beautiful. Your confidence, and the value you place on your health and well-being will begin to change the way you appear to those around you. The truth is, when you broaden your idea of beauty and attractiveness you will begin to see value, in people and in the world, that you never knew existed before. The truth is, the more you see value in the diversity of the world, the more favorably you will see yourself, as you possess many valuable diverse characteristics too.

I feel like I'm stating the obvious here, but clearly there are many women who struggle with these truths. That's ok. You struggle because you know there's something wrong with what you've been believing about yourself. If something here affirms you, keep it close and remind yourself every day. If something in your mind or heart denies your innate potential for beauty, call it out as a lie and declare the opposite over yourself until it becomes the truth. You have to change the inside first, then the outside follows.

Bonus: How do you confront a lie?

My oldest daughter has always been a fashionista. Her crazy style got her ostracized by the three "popular" girls in elementary school. One day she came to me crying because her best friend had informed her that she wasn't popular because these girls didn't like her. She wisely insisted that this was a lie and I needed to intervene with her friend.

I asked her friend what it meant to be popular. She responded that "most everybody liked you." I asked her if everybody liked the three girls who were called "popular." She told me that nobody liked these girls. I asked her how many people liked my daughter. She answered that pretty much everybody did except those three girls, just a lot of them were afraid to deny the girls and be my daughter's friends. I asked how many people she thought liked her. She said, pretty much most people. So, I asked her who were the more popular girls at school. She figured out that my daughter and she was.

The issue was settled, and I like to think that moment had a strong impact on the self-confident young woman my daughter's friend has become. She has never cowed to a bully since. Sometimes we need help to see the truth, but once we do, it has the power to change our whole lives.

*** This post was featured in the Redwood Empire Mensa Bulletin, Sept. 2013 edition. 

Writing Naked

Sometimes I cringe as I write. Shhhh...don't tell. The thoughts are flowing freely from the creative part of my brain, when suddenly the analytical part kicks a boulder right into the middle of the stream. "You don't want people to know about that!" it screams.

Our brains can wear a lovely cloak of silence that hides every bare naked thought, or we can peel back the cloak, expressing things that connect us with friends, or strangers, in a deep vulnerable emotional and intellectual intimacy. Penetrating through the niceties that cover the surface, bypassing the distraction techniques of the face, written words lay bare our truest selves for inspection. A nakedness that can never be recovered. A word spoken may be forgot. A word written lives forever. Like the porno shots of a young struggling actress may haunt her long after she obtains an Oscar, so the blog prattle of a young author may haunt her even as she holds a Pulitzer.

If I don't post often, or promote extensively, it's because I'm still uncomfortable being intellectually naked in public. There's no photoshopping over ignorance and I'm at least smart enough to know that I don't know everything.