So much awesomeness I can’t contain it!

I’ve been saying for a year now, that I want to learn to surf. The challenge is really, getting over the phobia of the dirty beach water.

But I recently moved to surf city. And I’m pretty sure I’ve only been to the beach twice. I thought it would be something I’d do more often. Life happens though, and the boys seem to prefer the pool, so I don’t push the issue.

Today, I went to Dana Point with a bunch of folks from my spiritual center. The water was clean, the waves were nice and someone handed me a boogie board.

And I rode wave after wave…until I was completely spent. And it was awesome! I swallowed salt water, had a few wipe outs, scraped my knee, got sand in my suit and kept going back for more. I didn’t stop until my body couldn’t take anymore.

Yeah, I’ll feel it in the morning. But I realized a few things.
1. I’m happier when I’m more active
2. I LOVE the beach, and…
3. I really enjoy boogie boarding

Honestly, today was so wonderful, I can’t even express the level of awesomeness I experienced.

Now I must go crash, for I am happy and exhausted.

Tags: boogie boarding, Health/Fitness, summer fun

Honey, sometimes shit is hard

I’m not trying to be all dramatic or anything, I just find myself saying that to The Boy a lot these days.

“Honey, sometimes shit is hard.”

Yep. Just like that.

Because it is.

And when he’s crying because his knee hurts, and I’m telling him he needs to make it up the hill so we can catch our bus–when I really want to bike all the way home–what else can I say other than, that sometimes shit is hard?

I also tell him that these challenges don’t have to be so hard. That it’s all in your perception. You can push through the pain to get where you need to go. Just a little bit further. You can do it. I’m proud of you for being so tough. These challenges prepare you to handle for life and the bigger challenges that will inevitably greet you one day.

And sometimes I feel bad because we only have so much time for stalling before I start to get really conscious of the time ticking away and the possibility of missing my bus seems to loom.

“We don’t have time for this,” I snap. “I have a bus to catch and we need to get where we’re going.”

And he’s all, “But my helmet and my knee and ouch my toe…”

And sometimes I lose my patience.

Because, so the fuck what it’s hard. You know what? It really ain’t that hard. I’ve been through harder. Your knee hurts, well so does mine. Almost always. You’re tired from playing all day? Well I was working all day and had to ride the 8 miles from work to the Boys & Girls club because the bus bike rack was full. It was a brutal ride and we have 4 more to go.

I don’t want to hear about your pain, I have my own I’m trying to work through.

But I’m the parent, so its selfish for me to talk about my pain, when he’s talking about his. I’m supposed to keep that to myself and let him believe that the rides are only challenging for him. I’m supermom and can handle it all.

But that load gets heavy and on some level I want him to understand that the shit isn’t easy for me either. I enjoy commuting by bike most of the time, yes. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t also challenging. It doesn’t mean there aren’t days that I wish I had a car, so I wouldn’t have to worry about missing the bus and always being prepared to get on my bike and push myself the distance to get to him on time; before the Boys & Girl’s club closes.

So I tell him, straight up, that it’s not easy. Life isn’t easy. We gotta do, what we gotta do. And sometimes, to get things done, you just gotta grit your teeth, and keep it pushing.

Tags: bicycle commuting, keeping it real, life challenges, Shit Happens

Adventures in city cycling

Today I almost got myself killed.

Yeah…

You think you’re freaking out, what about me? My neck hurts and my nerves are shot for the night.

I’ve talked about how I sometimes having my bike means I might miss the bus. There’s space for two bikes. If there are two on the rack already, I can wait for the next, or ride and hope to keep up until another biker gets off.

Today, I decided to ride. Not only did I keep up, I got ahead.

In fact I was riding so aggressively, I missed a turn, cut across on the sidewalk going the wrong way down a one way road, tried to beat a light and ended up riding into oncoming traffic.

That’s right: I rode into oncoming traffic.

I was already out there by the time I realized my mistake. All I could do is scream and swerve and hope the drivers saw me in front of their bumpers.

And thank fuck they did.

But I was totally in the wrong and learned my lesson about trying to beat lights on my bike.

Oh…did I mention that I wasn’t wearing a helmet?

Yeah.

I almost died.

Don’t tell me I’m being dramatic, you weren’t there!

Ok…I’m going to lay down now.

Tags: bicycle commuting, city cycling, fuck me i almost died

New digs and I’m loving it

It’s been a month since I moved. The whole experience of finding the right place, the cost of moving, the actual moving and getting adjusted to the new neighborhood has been really stressful. But all-in-all, it’s been totally worth it.

Worth it to be closer to family. I’ve seen my sister more since moving than I did in the entire time I lived in Orange. It’s awesome to know that my hometown is just a bike ride away and that I can throw that bike into my friend’s car should we decide to go out on the town.

Worth it to be part of a community. I walk down the street and people smile and say hello. My neighbors gather at the pool on Sundays so we won’t all be strangers living near each other.

Worth it to be near the ocean. I love the breeze, the atmosphere, the people biking everywhere, the friendly laidbackness of beach communities. I’m going to learn to surf and hopefully hit the beach a few times a month.

Worth it to live two blocks from a park/community center. As is my style, I can send the boys outside and tell them not to come in until dusk. No, you can’t sit here and watch TV all day. Take your ass to the park and play. Make friends. Meet other kids. Do what kids are supposed to do.

Worth it to make new friends. To live near people so excited to meet you that they offer to take your kids off your hands for a few hours a day because they’re doing a softball training camp. Nope, they don’t want money. They just like us and offered the activity for the summer.

Worth it for the Boy to attend a good school. The reviews of the school he’s attend were raving! The kids we’ve met who go there love it. There’s a farm and creative freedom for the teachers.

There will always be challenges, but they don’t seem so bad when you have a great place to call home.

Tags: Lifestyle, Moving, New Digs, New Home

Dealing with the challenge of commuting longer distances by bike; with the kids

I don’t remember a whole lot from my childhood. But the memories I do have a very sharp. Aside from summers spent swimming 9-to-5 like a job and smelling my mom’s hair just before she told me she was pregnant with my sister, few memories stand out more than when we had to commute using public transportation. I’m talking, up before the crack of dawn so mom could get us kids to the babysitter and get to work by 9:00 AM.

And now I’ve begun doing the same thing. Actually, it wasn’t until Summer and I had two kids on vacation, that child care and commuting by bus became a real issue. As I started pricing the child care, I almost had a heart attack. All day child care for two children is expensive. And getting them there is a challenge, to say the least. Especially since we all have to get there by bike.

The first day was a bitch. We were up at 5:30 AM and out of the door by 6:00 (you have no idea what I had to go through to get the boys to get dressed, even in their sleep deprived stupor. I told them to sleep earlier. They’ll learn.). We all mounted our bikes and set out for the Boys & Girls Club, which had the best rates for summer day camp. Four miles, up hill, down hill, busy streets, early in the morning.

For someone who had spent that latter part of the school year commuting by bike, the youngest seemed to have the hardest time. He cried about his nose hurting, complained about being hot and generally had a hard time with the whole thing. The oldest spent half the ride yelling at the youngest to stop crying. At one point we went down a hill and I let myself fly down until I reached the bottom. Along the way, the boys lost sight of me. When they caught up the oldest was crying and glared at me angrily. “He got scared because he couldn’t see you,” the youngest said rolling his eyes.

Despite the challenges, we made it to our destination and I got to work on time. It took an hour to make a 30 minute ride, but I’m pretty sure we’ll get faster as the boys get more used to the route. The ride home was much easier and faster and when we made it, we all vegged out in front of the television.

I saw a sign that the average bicyclist loses 13 lbs their first year commuting by bike. Those are results I can get behind. That and showing my kids that you don’t need a car to get around town. The more used to it I get, the less inconvenient it seems. We were even able to grocery shop–I’m talking real shopping–and get everything home on our bikes.

Truthfully, there have been plenty of times I wish I had a car. But I’m also learning to make due and so are my kids. Much like when my mom would drag my sister and I out on the bus to get to the sitter, I have to drag my kids out on the rode at ungodly hours to get them to the sitter as well. The main difference is that we’re all getting a work out on our way to our destinations.

As my mom always said, “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

Truer words are rarely ever spoken.

Tags: bicycle commuting, bus/bike to work, family, Health/Fitness

Facing the Truth: Debt, Desperation and Deserving it All

I started this year with a grand vision. I’d get more active, start really focusing on building my freelance business and head off to grad school in the fall. The active part I have pretty well under control (mostly because I don’t have a car and I’ve been using a bike to get around). I’ve managed to drum up some freelance work, but I quickly realized that being full-time freelance by the end of the year was not going to happen. As for grad school, it was the first thing to come off the table as something to work toward this year.

You see, one of the most important steps in starting a business is to get real regarding your finances and ideally, ditching bad habits. Just as I started to pull back the veil to really examine the truth about my crumbling financial foundation, I realized I had to make some changes before I could begin launching any escapes.

Grad school would cost a hefty $100k (not including living expenses, child care, transportation, books…etc.) and I had no desire to dig myself deeper into debt. Unfortunately, I had ignored certain debts too long and was soon confronted with them in most unpleasant ways: car repossession and the threat of wage garnishment if I didn’t start paying my student loan.

I was embarrassed; both creditors had found me at work. The student loan people called my direct extension, but it was a coworker who alerted me that my car was being towed; I had to bring all the crap from my car to my desk. Talk about a wake-up call. If you know anything about Southern California, you know it is not a good place to be without a car. But now I see having a car as luxury, one I cannot currently afford.

So I bought a bike and a bus pass. I’ve also not missed a payment on my student loan since that fateful call.

The next step was to look at what other expenses I could scale back. I had this apartment that I was happy for at the time–escaping from recent outbreaks of violence in my long-time subsidized housing–but now it was starting to look over-priced. I was starting to see graffiti at the edges of the neighborhood and neither the boy nor I cared for the school he was attending. I felt isolated from my friends and family, most of whom lived 30 minutes to an hour away. I was struggling to make ends meet and really starting to feel the pressure.

I had two choices: Get a roommate or find a smaller apartment.

I waffled back and forth (very briefly) before deciding to take the plunge into finding new digs. Sure, I could save more money by getting a roommate, but I’d also be giving up my privacy and inviting a stranger to live with me and my child. I just wasn’t comfortable with that. If I moved, I could go to a city I liked and get closer to my family, while being able to maintain the privacy I valued so much.

So I made a list, a vision–if you will–of all the things I required of my new abode. I wanted a place walking or biking distance from the beach, with a private balcony or patio, a bedroom (not one of those Jr. 1 bedrooms that don’t have a separate sleeping space) and I wanted to save $200-300 a month. I gave my 30 day notice–effectively burning my ship–and started booking appointments and submitting applications. Again though, I was confronted with my poor financial history. While I had a good income and had never been evicted or filed bankruptcy, with so many things in collections, I looked like a risky proposition for a tenant and I was rejected several times.

Mentally, I began making compromises. Maybe I didn’t need a patio and maybe I didn’t need a bedroom. Maybe I should look at this piece of shit apartment over here because it’s been on the market for so long and they might be willing to negotiate. Maybe I can’t afford to live close to the beach. Maybe I’m not worthy of what I desire.

When I was declined just as my 30 days ran out, I started to doubt even more. Maybe I’d made a huge mistake. I should have waited to give my notice. What if no one is willing to give me a chance?

I felt weary but it was in this darkest moment I made up my mind that the doubt was a lie. I would have was I was looking for. It was out there for me, I just hadn’t found the one yet. It would come and it would be on time. I got an extension on my moving date and resumed my search with a strange feeling of calm.

I was more determined than ever, but somewhere along the way, I ditched my desperation flag.

You know the one flapping around going, “Hey I’m in need! I need and I need. Please help me because I NEED.”

Would you take a chance on someone so needy? Most people won’t. Not when it comes to their money.

It was really do-or-die time, but I had decided not to worry about whether or not things would work out. With every application I submitted, I let it go. I could not control the property owners, nor could I control the outcome of the applying. If it was meant to be mine, they would say yes and until someone said yes, I knew that the right place was waiting for me.

Then a rental agent I had been working with called me. He had submitted an application for a condo we saw a few weeks prior and I was approved. All I needed to do was go sign the lease, take in my deposit and move in when I was ready.

So, in two weeks [UPDATE: I moved in almost two weeks ago an I love it! More details on the new crib in a later post], I’ll be sitting on my lovely patio, at my new beach condo, saving money on rent every month and biking to the beach on Saturdays with my boys.

And I didn’t have to make any compromises.

True enough, my finances are a mess. It’s also true that I will prosper as my soul prospers. The lie is that I don’t deserve any of the things I’m seeking: financial, physical and spiritual health. The truth is that I deserve it all. We all do.

Originally published at the Live Your Truth blog.

Tags: Financial Messiness, Getting Things Done, Inspiration, Introspection, Life Happens, Money Problems, Personal Finance, Triumph

Book Review: Learning to Stand

I don’t read many fiction novels. I get my fill of reading done at work where I pretty much read all day, editing articles and keeping up with the latest business news and trends. It’s rare that I read for pleasure.

Then there was Claudia Hall Christian The Fey. I started on a Friday night and was finished by Sunday. I’m not a particularly fast reader, the book was just that engaging (read my review). So when Claudia offered me the chance to read part 2 in The Fey series, Learning to Stand, I knew there was bound to be more action and ass kicking by the heroine Alex “The Fey”.

Learning to Stand did not disappoint. Intrigue, romance and action…this book has it all. Alex endures real trauma over and over again and somehow manages to remain simultaneously vulnerable and powerful. Just as you’re wondering what more Alex can go through, another bomb explodes. It’s enough to make your heart ache wishing people would stop trying to kill the beloved femme fatal.

What I love most about Alex is that even when she’s not sure, and she wants to give up all hope, she finds some way to soldier on. Of course, this is largely thanks to her great friends, but its that imperfection…Alex’s fragility that makes her a great heroine. She’s every woman. She’s a survivor. She’s afraid. She’s uncertain. She’s broken. And she keeps fighting for love, for country, for her life and the lives of others.

From beginning to end you will be engrossed in Learning to Stand. Take it from this non-fiction reader anxiously waiting to read the final Alex “the Fey” saga. Read it online, or get the hard copy, which I recommend because you’ll probably want to read at a faster pace than the chapters are posted online.

And if you like Alex the Fey, check out Claudia’s Dever Cereal!

I took him to the park, left him for 30 minutes, he was fine, we made new friends

Note: I tend to write in bursts so if this is your first time here and you like what you read, subscribe to the feed so you don’t forget where to go to for more.

Today has been dubbed by Lenore Skenazy of Free-Range Kids, Take Your Children to the Park and Leave them There day. I generally don’t go to the park near my house because it’s not really…near my house, but today I woke early determined to participate in this day somehow.

I suppose it might have been better if I had spoke to some other parents near me. Truth is that I work a lot and the Boy doesn’t know the other kids very well. So I decided we’d ride to the park and I’d leave him at the playground, while I rode the bike trails.

When I got to the park, I was a little nervous. Not because I was afraid the Boy would come to any peril in my absence but because there were adults hovering over kids like I had never noticed before. Just as I was thinking I’d make him ride trails with me, another kid his age showed up and I didn’t exist anymore. I gave him instructions for responding to questions for where his mother was (I told him to say he was fine and that his mom was in the park, instead he said “Today is take your kid to the park and leave them there day! ” :-/) and headed off to the bike trail.

The sun was bright, the morning air was refreshing and the creek the bike trail followed was absolutely beautiful. I could smell jasmine, and grass and hear the little bit of water make its way over and through the rocks. And I was slightly in awe of what I had lived relatively close to for almost a year, and never bothered to see (I had also been complaining that the park wasn’t walking distance…which it really isn’t from our house, so the bikes helped).

When I returned to the playground about 30 minutes later, the kids were engrossed in play. I asked the Boy if he wanted to ride the trails with me, he asked his new friend, I introduced myself to the friend’s mother (who asked about “eave your kid at the park day,” which I happily explained) then we all rode off on the nature reserve bike trail together.

It was so much fun! The other mom and I had lots in common, and the kids were getting on like old friends. There was a set of metal slides and we hug out there, while the kids went down the tallest one over and over.

Then it was time for us to go our separate ways. The other mom and I exchanged numbers because…well, our kids hat hit it off (and so had we kinda) and expressed some interest in hanging out again. The whole thing was all in keeping with why I was there in the first place: For the Boy and I to go out, be active and make new friends.

We’ll definitely be doing that more often.

Tags: bicycling, Free-Range, Health/Fitness, kids, Take Your Kid to the Park and Leave Them There

Love is all there is

A while ago I posted a link on Facebook about Christian singer Jennifer Knapp returning to music and coming out. My only comment to start was that I thought the decision might raise some ire, then someone asked me for more specific thoughts, at which point I obliged.

It didn’t take long before a friend of mine, a former church mate and devout Christian, also commented. She started out with something to the effect that it’s dangerous to “think” because our thoughts are not God’s thoughts and we are supposed to be transformed through the renewing of our minds. She went on to talk about sin and salvation and how our love is not the same as God’s love and that the only thing that matters is what God’s word (the Bible) tells us is right. It was apparent in her tone that she believed she was correct and that by virtue of my disagreeing with her, I would suffer some punishment when all is said and done.

As a Christian, I used to find it hard to reconcile this idea that we are not supposed to think for ourselves and that we were to be dependent on a preacher to interpret the Bible. And while I’ve been in quite a few churches that tout the verse “study to show yourself approved,” in practice, the premise of most has been to condemn anyone who actually took this scripture to heart and interpreted the Bible any differently than the majority.

This is actually a large part of why I have chosen not attend a traditional Christian church. Some of my friends call it a “heathen hippie gathering”, I call it spiritual fellowship. People from different walks of life come together to be inspired by spiritual leaders willing to give the gift of their wisdom without judgment.

One thing I’ve been sort of thinking about was my friend’s statement that we will be held accountable for the information we share with others. Maybe this was my indoctrination tugging at me but I felt as though she accused me of turning my back on God. I know she meant it all in love, so I simply thanked her for the discussion, but decided it best not to engage any further.

It’s impossible to explain the concept of love–the ultimate law–to a person so focused on taking the bible literally, who believes that anyone who disagrees with suffer the wrath of God and the only way to see “heaven” (whatever your interpretation may be) is through Christian salvation. There are many ways to experience God and millions of people all over the world who don’t even understand our Americanized version of Christianity (case in point: my Irish boyfriend with whom I can’t even have a discussion about religion because his frame of reference is Catholics vs Protestants).

The only thing that makes sense to me (someone who grew up in the church, went two to three times a week until I was a teenager and then again as a young adult, who was indoctrinated and found a different path) is that when all is said and done, the only thing that matters is love. If there was nothing else we were to take from Jesus it was that love covers a multitude of sins and we were not to assume we know better and are better than anyone else. We are to treat people with love and through our demonstration of love, people will see the God within. In fact–we are taught–God is love.

So if God is love and God is all there is, then love is all there is.

Some people will never understand this concept, which is fine. I don’t need others to understand, but based on my understanding, I will always try to act in love. I will do my best to treat myself, my kids, my neighbors and strangers on the street with love, because that was the ultimate lesson in Christ’s sacrifice.

Love is all there is. Walking in this level of love has taught me the true meaning of unconditional love. It’s the kind of love that leaves everyone space to be themselves and the strength to truly forgive. Love leaves us to work on our own lives, faith, livelihood and development of gifts without worrying about what others are doing. Walking in love leaves us to be beacons of light in an often dark world.

The choice is easy and every time I will choose love. Because what else is there?

Tags: Christianity, Introspection, Love, Reflection, Spirituality

Teachers save lives, these are the ones who saved mine

Yesterday I wrote about bullying and raising confident kids and this morning I got an email from the Freedom Writers Foundation: “Teachers Save Lives.”

In another lifetime I might have rolled my eyes but I can honestly say that there are a couple of teachers who saved my life. There was Mr. Christianson, a substitute teacher I had in the 5th grade who made math fun. I was struggling and most of the year I got Ds on the math tests. Mr. Christianson helped me get a B. And it was the best B I ever earned.

There was Mrs. Levine, the edgy 7th grade English teacher who introduced me to Daniel Steel. She had a book rack next to her desk and we were to always have a book “checked out”–a book of Mrs. Levine’s choosing. She’s sit with her feet kicked up on the desk, spin the book rack slowly and study the books pensively. You knew she’s made a choice when she stopped spinning and took her feet off of the desk and pull the book from the rack.

“This is a little edgy,” she said. “There are adult themes.” She held to book out and then took it back again. “I think you can handle it.”

She handed me the book and shooed me away. When I read the first sex scene (probably not far into the book) I was a little surprised. The choice of Daniel Steel was perfect because the language was simple, but it was more mature than Baby-Sitters Club (which I’m pretty sure I read every book in the series AND Baby-Sitters Club Baby Sisters). It was time for more mature content. I moved on from Daniel Steel pretty quickly but Steel was definitely a gateway to mystery, romance and fantasy books.

There was Cheri Swatek, my high school swimming coach. I was ditching classes and skipping practice and she gave me a choice. I could either keep ditching and skipping or I could be on the swim team. I couldn’t do both. I had to commit. Swimming was about the only thing I really cared about at that time, so I chose swimming. Of course that also meant not ditching (or ditching less…what? Just sayin’) and not missing a single practice. I also had to maintain at least a C average and I could do that in my sleep (a lot of the time I did).

I wanted to swim, I chose to stay engaged in school. That’s what Cheri gave me.

Erin Gruwell, the ultimate mentor and founder of the Freedom Writer’s Foundation, also saved my life. I laugh now, thinking about it because I was in denial about it for a while. Maybe it’s because I feel like my biggest change took place later than others, I don’t know. I know that Erin taught me what Do or Die meant. She taught me to take leaps of faith and know that I could make myself, through my choices. I had only to choose my path and then walk it; against all odds. And when it seemed like my dream of being the first in my family to graduate from college was slipping away, Erin gave me a lifeline.

That lifeline was the Freedom Writer’s Diary (which I co-authored and edited) and a full scholarship (tuition, books, bus passes, learning disability assessment, counseling, tutoring) to Cal State Long Beach (GO BEACH). College was the most amazing start to the rest of my life, one of the best gifts I’ve ever received and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

I remember riding in Erin’s car one day and she said to me, “Kimberlee, you are going to become the poster child for the successful-person-post-teen-aged pregnancy.” At the time, I laughed it off because it made me uncomfortable and my brain painted a literal picture (with my face on a poster). She wasn’t talking about a poster though. She was talking about my success. I was so close to a goal that for a while, seemed so impossible (especially while rolling pennies at a gas station).

And Erin kicked my ass all the way there.

There was a time when I thought my story wasn’t “tragic” enough to be told. So many of the other Freedom Writer stories are about being abused, addicted, suicidal…I thought the life saving wasn’t literal enough. But no, these teachers literally (Erin and Cheri in particular) saved my life and all by teaching me the value of the choices I made.

This is what happens when teachers are engaged with the education of their students. It happens when there’s enough flexibility that each teacher can shape their students with genuine interaction and experiential learning. And for teachers who need ridged rules and procedures, there’s flexibility enough for that too. Teachers save lives when they are engaged and they care.

It’s what Erin did and teaches other teachers to do in the Freedom Writer Teacher Institute. Together, Erin, the Freedom Writers and the Freedom Writers Foundation have developed a methodology that has changed lives around the country. The foundation and the Institute are rays of light in what often seems like a bleak educational landscape.

Which brings me to my final point: I’d like you make a donation to the Freedom Writers Foundation, in support of the cause I have dedicated so much of my life to: education. All I’m asking is a $5 donation toward programs that inspire teachers and provides them the tools to make a real difference in the lives of their students.

Did a teacher save your life? Share your story in the comments.

Tags: Education, Introspection, Reflections, teachers