Tag Archives: Habits

The Word I Never Thought I’d Use to Describe Myself

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The minute the word came off of my tongue, I stopped right in my tracks. “Did I really just say THAT word?” I asked myself. “Me, Sheila? I used that word, ever so nonchalantly? WHOA. Time out Celtics!”

Don’t worry. It wasn’t a bad word, or a word that I would correct my teenagers from using and then bust into a not-lecture-but-totally-a-lecture filled with “when I was a kid we never said those words and how is that word normalized and I’m worried about your generation” vibes.

I mean, it was the F word… but a good F word. A happy word even. Actually, it was several words strung together, a phrase! Are you ready for it?

“I had a lot of FUN today….”

F…U…N…FUN! I had just walked in the door with my boys from camp/work pick up and said, “I had a lot of fun today, who wants to see what I worked on?” I literally couldn’t believe I used the word fun. I was just so excited and wanted to share my joy.

Besides, of the three kids with me (one kiddo is still sick) one is artsy, one is into design and one is into math. I thought they might be interested in my excitement. Spoiler alert: (1) I was talking to teens and (2) exhaustion from camp made their interest a big NO. Which was fine, I got right back to my project and right back to having… MORE FUN. The project? I was drawing new floor plans for our kitchen/mudroom.

After two architects falling through because of personal reasons, I’m now waiting on a third one, and well, I got tired of waiting for the project to start.

So, I ever so happily took matters into my own hands. Ever. So. Happily. Cabinets are falling off the wall. Appliances are leaking and breaking. This project can’t wait any longer. Besides, I always wanted to be an architect. I have loved design and homes and creating beauty since I was a little girl. Floor designs bring my love of math, my love of puzzles, and my love of beauty all together in one place.

So, with my tracing paper out, my pencil in one hand, my architectural ruler in another, I started drawing line, after line, after line. I was in heaven as I imagined and re-imagined, drew and erased.

The only thing never erased? My happiness or my clarity about how much I love design. I was so at peace. I was challenged, in a good way. I was fulfilled as I finished one concept, ready to go on to the next. I was happy. I was having fun, so much fun. It was glorious. It isn’t that I don’t have fun. I do.

I had fun last week when my friend came over and we floated in the pool and just chatted.

I had fun talking on the phone with my best friend the other day.

I had fun joking yesterday morning when I called up to my almost 18 year old to see if he was ready and his reply was, “Oh good morning, I see you’ve had your coffee mom.” And I replied, “Oh yes, I have, shall we see if your brother has?!” But in general, in general, I wouldn’t say that I would describe my life as “fun.” That’s a bummer.

That’s now really how I want to live. I don’t need to be a party animal. I don’t need to have boat loads of fun everyday.

But I do want to have some fun everyday. I do want to do MORE of WHAT I ENJOY, more often. It isn’t that I am actively choosing not to. It isn’t that I am over-prioritizing the kids and yada. It’s just that, to be honest,

  1. I’m still honing in on activities, hobbies and experiences that bring me true enjoyment! Yes, I know what I like, but as my kids have gotten older and I have returned to having more time to myself, I am just getting back to more time for me! I know some of them. Photography. Arranging floral bouquets. Going to the beach. Celebrating others and doing random acts of kindness. Bowling. Watching the sunrise. Hiking. House design. Cake decorating. Writing, creating, designing, doing anything related, like interacting with you all:)
  2. I forget to stop and do the above activities! I get so caught up in managing the household, in doing this and doing that, that I don’t stop and do things that I enjoy. I know, I know. I need to schedule them. Routines and schedules and systems, well, I’m working on getting into them;) #ADHDlife
  3. On top of all this, I’ve been asking myself some hard questions lately, like:
    + Which activities can I do here and there to get bursts or fun and…
    + Which activities could I get lost in for hours?
    + Which activities could I do more often, for longer, so I can really say, yes, my life is fun, because I LOVE what I do?

FUN is all relative. Fun is different for me today than it was years ago and even one year ago. And it’s different for me than it is for you. What is the same for all of us, and the same today, and in the past, and yes and in the future, is what we all need. Fun fuels the soul.

I felt SOOO good yesterday. So good. What will you do today that will be fun? That will light you up? Do tell below! And if you can’t do it, tell us anyway. Believe it or not, it’s a trick that will make your brain even feel a little bit better.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you too are in the process of getting back to yourself and getting back to adding more fun, on your terms, into your day. The Orange Rhino * another unedited stream of consciousness, without a full cup of coffee post, reflecting a current challenge I am processing so that I can keep moving forward towards being the me I want to be and living the life I want to live.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Family Meals Don’t Have to Be Perfect to Matter

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I had an epiphany this week. Nothing totally earth shattering. Probably nothing you haven’t thought of before or even myself for that matter. But it left me feeling so much lighter, especially going into the summer when my desire to make meals will be cut 100% 😉

With all the end of the year go-go-go we haven’t had any real, “solid” home cooked meals in a while. I just haven’t had it in me to do the weekly meal plan and big grocery shop. It’s been – what do I have? Great! That’s for dinner! We have nothing? Okay, quick trip to the store for bare essentials and easy meals. It’s been a lot of pasta, tortellini, breakfast for dinner, tacos, hot dogs, yada yada. And yes, pizza and take out. Stay with me. Epiphany, remember?

I haven’t cooked any of their favorite, more time intensive meals: chicken parmesan, hibachi chicken with fried rice, manicotti, chicken fajitas, homemade chicken fingers, and on and on. And vegetables? Well that’s been carrots, if I remember.

Tuesday I headed out with one son to his volleyball banquet. Because I hadn’t planned ahead, there was no lasagna to heat up or leftover bbq chicken to put on a sandwich, so it was pizza, again. Oh how the guilt started to roll in, all on its own.

And then one kiddo, because kids are simply just awesome like this, “Mom, when are you going to make a homemade meal again?!” And more guilt! Then another son, shhhh’d him and tried to whisper, but epically failed and said, “Dude, be quiet. I love pizza and take out. This has been great!”

I kinda agreed with him. The lack of meal planning, hour long grocery shops, dishes, complaints over meals, and cleaning the kitchen? Oh, oh, how great it had been. The cost? Not so much. The guilt? Also, not so much.

On my walk the next morning, my epiphany rescued me from my guilt. I have very, very few memories of home cooked nightly meals growing up. Here’s what I do remember:

~ One night a week, waffles, scrambled eggs and peas, my favorite meal
~ One night a week, Kraft macaroni and cheese and hot dogs, always a winner, especially with extra butter
~ A salad plate with two pieces of lettuce, two carrots, a cucumber slice, and some tomatoes with every non-breakfast for dinner meal, my mom’s attempt to get us to eat vegetables
~ TV Dinners (turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy!)
~Pizza every Friday night.
~Saturday morning breakfast at McDonald’s with my dad.
~Christmas morning breakfast of eggs, bagels, and grapefruit.
~Lasagna just for me on Thanksgiving because I didn’t like turkey.
~Cereal (mostly Cheerio’s or Rice Krispie’s) when still hungry.

What’s not here? Elaborate, homemade meals every night.

Maybe this was because I was a picky eater, and I didn’t like a lot of meals my mom made

-OR- Maybe it’s because depending on the stage of my life, my mom was either getting a Master’s degree, working, prioritizing herself, or taking care of a family member in need

-OR- Maybe it’s because there wasn’t enough time given our busy schedule

-OR- Maybe it’s because it wasn’t a value of my mom and dad’s Who knows.

But what this memory made me realize, is that what mattered, is that there was food. I was nourished. And an adult, either my mom or my dad or my really cool babysitter, was always there for dinner with me, until my later years in high school.

Dinner wasn’t fancy. Dinner was an act of love. It was a sign that my mom, even in her busy schedule, made sure:

that I was taken care of (and my dad on Friday nights and Saturday mornings.)
that food was available and on the table.
that holidays were special.
that I had what I needed to grow, to be strong enough to swim two hours, to stay up late studying, to do everything I wanted to do as a busy kid, always pursuing a new project, a new club, a new activity, a new idea.

This memory about my childhood snapped me out of feeling guilty about my lack of meal planning and homemade meal cooking. It gave me more permission than ever to make meals that are simple.

Where and when I got this notion that every night I had to make complex meals I don’t know. (Actually, I just realized where it came from..I needed to prove to myself that I can cook because someone once told me I was a lousy cook. Well I’m done with that limiting belief. Buh-BYE!) My kids are nourished, by food and love, and their favorite home-cooked meals when we have time and when I have the energy.

Turns out, the night of my epiphany, we had both. Oddly enough, I really enjoyed making dinner that night. We had meat, potatoes, biscuits and broccoli, a meal requested by my youngest. It came more from a place of love than ever and didn’t feel like a chore or obligation. I hope this epiphany isn’t new to you;) and if it is, I hope you are feeling lighter like I am.

Either way, this epiphany goes beyond cooking. It can be applied to probably any area where we feel we are falling a little short. Our love is nourishment. Showing up as parents, being supportive, creating traditions and memories, is nourishment.

This is what matters. Not how complex or perfect we made things. Sending all my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially as we go into the summer months when there are *SO MANY* expectations out there to hit summer bucket lists. Your presence is a lot. Remember that.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

 


*another unedited, stream of consciousness post, showing my reflections of whatever random thought is on my mind or whatever challenge I can currently process so that I can move through it instead of staying stuck AND YES!

I had to take the pizza boxes out of the recycling for a photo because get this…they made it there before I had to ask;) in other words before I could take a picture!

My Late ADHD Diagnosis: What It Took to Finally Be Taken Seriously

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My ADHD Diagnosis Story * “You’re just a mom of four kids, with lots going on.” That was the answer I was given, over and over and over again when I asked, scratched that, begged professionals to test me for ADHD. Talk about dismissive. And unhelpful. And wrong. I never suspected I had ADHD growing up. I mean, it wasn’t a majorly talked about thing and it definitely wasn’t for girls. I knew I had sensory processing struggles but even my mom, who is an occupational therapist, was still learning about what that meant.

But ADHD? Nope. But as I got older, and I had to fill out a questionnaire for one of my sons as part of a neuropsychological evaluation, the wheels started churning in my brain. For every question that I marked a 4 or a 5, “almost always” or “always,” I could have answered the same for myself. At the same time, the set routines and expected daily structures I had had in my life for years, started falling to the wayside.

No more nap schedules. No more going to the same schools. No more simple days where I could count on breakfast at seven, dinner at five thirty and bedtime and eight. I found myself struggling more and more to get things done. To prioritize all the tasks in front of me. To remember basic things. To make decisions. To not sit and zone out for longer than one should. I started noticing how impulsively I could say yes to things; how my brain never, ever, ever stopped.

I complained every. single. therapy session about how I couldn’t manage my time no matter how many different systems I tried.

So I started seeking help from my doctors. Primary. Couples therapist at the time. Psychiatrist at the time. Neurologist at the time. And all said, “You’re just a mom of four kids, with lots going on.”

And so I struggled. And I felt like a failure most days. And I cried most days from overwhelm, exhaustion, and pure utter frustration that I couldn’t get my life together and run a house, manage my family.

And I cried from yelling at my kids because I felt awful about myself. I yelled for lots of reasons, some of which were because I couldn’t manage my emotions well, I couldn’t handle my sensory overwhelm well, I got distracted by every request by each child which created mental chaos and…I was impulsive.

But no one saw any of this, which probably didn’t help my pleas for help. I kept it together like the best of them…on the outside. A recovering perfectionist, I did everything I could to make things work. I researched every system I could to help me manage my life better. I should have bought stock in the Staples office supply store back then 😉 Yes, I masked like the best of them. “Wow, she has four kids and she has it together!” No, no I didn’t.

I was falling apart on the inside and no one believed me. No one would really help me. Apparently life was supposed to be this hard. News flash. It wasn’t. I finally got a new therapist and psychiatrist. I talked with my therapist and she agreed that ADHD was a strong likelihood.

So I insisted that my psychiatrist test me. She was hesitant at first. “Are you sure your divorce isn’t just also making it harder? Perhaps your kids’ ADHD and sensory needs are making it harder? Sheila, your life IS HARD. That certainly isn’t helping.” She wasn’t wrong – to ask, or in her statement.

But she also wasn’t right. So I pushed and got her on board after I finally said something along the lines of, “Listed, my brain isn’t working. Something isn’t functioning right. I’m miserable and depressed as a result and something needs to change. I am begging you to believe me. To trust me, to test me. I have kids with ADHD, I’m not clueless. Here are the struggles I had as a kid…..Here’s where I struggled as a young adult in the workplace….Here’s where I am struggling now….” And so she did.

And we decided to try medication and see what happened. I remember that day clearly. For the first time in years, I felt like my brain worked. Actually, worked. Like higher level, worked. I could think clearly. My thoughts weren’t all over the place. I didn’t jump from one task to the next. I felt a bit calmer. I felt like myself again. Why like myself, again?

Well, because before I had kids, and even when they were younger and their schedule was simpler, I could manage my ADHD on my own. I had less distractions, less stress on my brain, and more structure. It was when everything went kerflooey that I could no longer hold it together. I still struggle, just less. My formal diagnosis was only about two years ago (or less) and I’m still learning what works for me and what is the exact right medication to support me.

Perimenopause isn’t helping and life’s stressors aren’t exactly helping. What is helping? Simply knowing that I’m not a screw up; that my struggles are REAL and don’t mean I’m a failure or lazy. This knowledge has helped me give myself more grace and love when I can’t do certain things or when I get frustrated with myself that yet another attempt at bringing more “order to the chaos” in the house has failed. My ADHD diagnosis led to more grace, understanding, and love for myself, from myself.

It’s been a journey to get here, but at least I am here now.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, but especially for those situations where you are working to figure something out about yourself or your life. Keep believing and trusting yourself.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

*another unedited, stream of consciousness post

“You Have to Live to Live”: Why New Experiences Make Me Feel More Alive

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“You have to live, to live.” ~ The Orange Rhino® (or, if someone said it well before me and I just don’t know, then well, them.)

For some reason, this saying has been on repeat in my mind since the Superbowl. As I watched the commercials, my brain began churning, thinking about consumer behavior and the geniuses behind several concepts. I began to feel a little more excited and energized than earlier in the day. I distinctly remember thinking, “You have to live, to live.” How did I remember this?

Well simple, I wrote it down on a post it note. I remember writing it and thinking, well duh. But I also remember thinking, “well clearly you are writing it down because it impacted you so maybe not so duh.” Yes, I didn’t want to forget the saying, what it meant to me, and how I felt in that moment.

What it meant? Girl, you have to get out and do things, new things; things you love, things you miss; things that wake up your brain; things that make you grow, reflect; things out of the ordinary, mundane, everyday routine.

You need to live your life, not just go through it. And when you live it, actually live it by doing things in it – then you will find that you are actually, actively, living.

How I felt? ALIVE. Really, alive.

And it felt awesome. I felt energized. Joyful. Peaceful. Uplifted. Excited.

I felt the same way – and remember that saying – when I read a book a month or so on a quick vacation. The book had new ideas for self growth that got me thinking instead of just going along with status-quo about my life. I felt energized, hopeful, ready to try some new things.

I felt alive this past week when I stayed in a hotel for just one night with my son. Just one night, two hours from our home. We arrived and I had so much energy from being in a new place and from having just had dinner in a new type of pizza place.

I felt alive the next day, when we went exploring and had breakfast at this cute place and the walls reminded us to “start each day as if it were our birthday.” Yes! Start each day with joy and the extra pep in your step that *usually* comes with a birthday.

I felt alive just yesterday when I made myself put the monotonous house chores aside so that I could enjoy the rare, beautiful 80 degree day. We went shopping for some new plants and I researched different peonies and grasses. I then planted while listening to the birds.

And I felt alive last week when I chatted with the lady at CVS (see post from Saturday morning.) Anytime I have a random, kind interaction with a stranger or share a compliment, I feel alive. I want to live more. I want to be more intentional with my time. It is so, so easy to get into a standard routine. To not take breaks. To not nourish our minds or bodies with things we love or even new experiences. To just go about our days, quasi-really living, quasi just going through the motions.

I know. I do the quasi-really living a lot. Way more than I like. But everytime I really live, everytime I do something beyond the daily motions, I ask myself, why are you not doing this more? Why do you let yourself slip into the routine? It’s a great question.

But the bigger, perhaps better question, and easier to answer, is… What will I do today to feel like I really lived? To feel alive? To feel excited? To feel like I used the day well? What will you do? Just some Monday morning deep thoughts for ya;) Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always,

oxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Part 1: I Blew Out My Christmas Tree Lights Because I Wouldn’t Take a Break

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The strand flickered when plugged in. I ignored the warning sign. It was just a flicker, right? Besides, I wanted to be done. I had so much to do. I didn’t want to take a break. I didn’t want to be slowed down.

The result? I blew out 3 strands. I had to start over. Not taking a break actually slowed me down. I should have taken the break. Come back Monday, for Part 2: When Fuses Blow…

In the meanwhile, take that break today my friends, no matter how hard. It doesn’t have to be literal, it can be doing something restorative for you. Do tell! I’m going to get a Starbucks Peppermint Mocha to get in the holiday spirit 🙂 Sending warmth and strength to you today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When You’re Tired of Being Called Strong: What Barely Hanging On Feels Like

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On Being “Strong” The truth is, right now, I am just barely hanging on. I’m not processing much – just getting through each day. I could take this post in so many different directions. I’m barely hanging on because…it’s been a long summer….it’s back to school and I’m excited for routine AND ALSO need to create the new schedules and figure out who goes where and when and HOW the heck I am going to make it happen….the house needs fixing and while making calls, something else broke….I have big dreams and goals and trying to achieve them and run a home is overwhelming at times.

And also, extra barely hanging on because while I was so excited for back to school because it meant a few extra hours for myself this week to manage all of the above…last Thursday around 12:43, my dreams of time to chill and get life in order came to a screeching halt.

I got a call from the doctor’s office that my skin biopsy was indeed my third basal cell skin cancer and that I needed surgery…again…and ASAP…and oh by the way, “So we have an opening next week, Thursday, September 7th, how about that day?”

My response, “Oh well yes, actually. That is my first week with kids back to school and I would love nothing more than to spend it having nose surgery.” Yes, I actually said this while laughing. And yes the nurse on the other line laughed back.

And then we had a moment of solidarity as I said, “Well if this isn’t Life and Motherhood defined.” I commented. “Get time to myself and this is how I will spend it.”

“Yes, yes it is.” she said.

The procedure itself, no big deal. Been there done that. But It’s the closing up I am worried about and I have spent most of last week and this week so far frantically finding the right doctor – with availability – to do the plastic surgery closing so that my nose looks normal afterwards. It has been a whirlwind. I am tired. No time to process this crap situation. Just go, go, go. Strong, strong, strong.

Sometimes it is nice to be strong and resilient. It is powering me through this week. I have no other choice right now – I need to be strong so I can plan this surgery AND get my kids back to school (and to not freak them out.) But I can’t wait to crash and cry to be honest. I am scared of how I will look.

When I had eyelid cancer I lost half of my lower eyelid. The doctor doesn’t know how much of the tip of my nose I will lose. It’s funny. My entire teen years I begged my parents to save for a nose job instead of college. I hated my nose.

Now? Now, I am afraid to lose my nose. I have grown to like my nose. Oh how times change. Oh how suddenly we realize what we have is good enough all along… Sending warmth and strength to you all today… STRENGTH if you need it…and also STRENGTH to say to friends and family, “I need a break from being ‘strong,’ I need you all to be strong for me.” It’s okay to not be strong in the typical sense, sometimes. We don’t need to be strong all the time 😉 A lot more on this later, when my mind is more clear.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

What My Own Past Taught Me About Building Confidence

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Anyone else like me and lacking a wee bit of self-confidence at times? Got a surprise for you that helped me a lot… Earlier this year I was feeling overwhelmed at home. Who am I kidding! I felt overwhelmed overall, on and off all school year! I felt like a disorganized, ready to explode, lost, mess of a person a lot of the time. I was desperate to figure out how to “succeed” or “do better” at managing my life and hated that I didn’t know how.

“I can’t do this,” this being run by a household of busy teenagers, came to my mind too many times. I, we, survived the school year but I would have loved to do so a little more gracefully and I would’ve loved to figure out how to make life feel a little better, a little more manageable.

I kept looking outwards for answers. I read and researched online for hours. I tried other people’s systems that worked for them. I listened to podcasts galore. Nothing was clicking.

One day at the end of the school year, when I was about to lose my holy loving everything, I went for a walk to chill. I found myself laughing out loud as I thought, “Why is this so much harder than when I had four kids under five?! That was so much easier! Much less chaos. I had that under control. That was overwhelming but less so which for the life of me I can’t believe. I had less sleep. Less time to myself. More crying. More puke. What the heck?!”

I continued walking, mulling that memory over and it hit me. “It felt easier then and I felt like I was succeeding because we had a very specific routine that was easy to remember and easy to follow.” It was so true. I knew when naps and meals were and everything revolved around that. The structure gave me guideposts for the day and chunked out the day into smaller, more manageable pieces.

Obviously lack of activities and individual child requests made it easier but still – this insight was golden. I took this insight and looked at other times in my life where I felt like I was “succeeding” or “thriving” (or whatever word works for you) to see if the same insight applied. Sure enough, structure and routine were all very, very present. I knew it was important (we all do), I just didn’t understand HOW crucial it was for me in particular.

I didn’t need to download any more worksheets or gather input from others as to how to “succeed.” I already knew how to because I had done so in my life already. All I had to do was look into MY past and see when I DID SUCCEED and learn from that. All I had to do was look into my past and see the times when I was thriving and take notes about what was working, what felt right, what didn’t, and bring that learning to the present.

So as I sit here this morning, preparing for school to start next week, working on our new routines, it is obvious that there is no way I can be as structured as my past. WAY too many moving parts. While I can’t be as structured as I wish, I CAN find a way to apply the fact that having structure of some sort is a key to success for me AND be creative in defining what structure/routine looks like.

And I can also accept that structure and routine today will be different than they used to be and that’s okay – I will still be able to find less overwhelm with a little more routine in place than last year. I will also remember to keep it a priority and make sure that we don’t lose our routines even when the going gets tough. Which it will. Effective Tuesday. Sigh. Oh, and one more thing.

Here’s something we can all take away. Part of the structure that helped me years ago? I was guaranteed all kids took a nap at the same time at least five or six days a week if I was lucky which meant I had guaranteed down time SCHEDULED for ME and I always took it. I didn’t do that this year. Just sayin’.

So here’s to YOU and all that you know about yourself and all the times you have already succeeded! You are the best expert in you and I want you to remember that. It is so easy to forget how much knowledge (and strength!) we already have within. Sending warmth and strength to you today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

The Secret Ingredient That Helps Me Reconnect With My Teen After a Fight

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I got into a “fight” with my teen yesterday and it reminded me of the “secret ingredient” I have to being in a good relationship with my teens. It’s an ingredient that……

helps us re-connect after a disconnect…
diffuses either of our moods so that we can enjoy each other’s company instead of suck the joy out of the room…
makes the tough moments less memorable because it makes other moments more special…

I never would have thought of it. The ingredient? Being playful. The fight? You really want to know what we fought over? Oh, I started a water fight in the kitchen 😉

It was the end of the night. He was chill. I was chill. We were just chatting. He had milk on his face, as he always does, and probably always will. He is legit a walking “Got Milk?” ad. A handsome one at that! I nicely pointed it out, and he replied with “well, since you are at the sink, can you give me a wet paper towel?”

Well…duh. Major opportunity! I wet a paper towel. Like drenched it. I was inspired by the weather here so I didn’t squeeze it out…and tossed it at him so when he caught it, it sprayed all over him. He then flicked his wet hands at me to get me wet forgetting that I was still at the sink. Rookie move dude. I turned the faucet on to spray him, obviously. He started to run. It. Was. Awesome. We were laughing. And smiling. And connecting. And bonding. And not fighting or bickering or yelling or arguing or any of that crapola. All my stress from the day disappeared. I imagine for him too.

It was one of the highlights of my week. If you told me eighteen months ago that this teen and I would be laughing together instead of me hiding in my bathroom crying, I wouldn’t have believed you, but here I am. We got here because of the other secret ingredient – I trusted him and let him try to fly.

I believed in him and gave him more room to grow. And as I treated him as he wanted to be treated, as I treated him like the person I believed he could be, and he grew, and I started relaxing and being more playful, our relationship grew. It has been amazing.

Is it perfect all the time? Nope. We still have our moments but the difference is so much better.

It’s funny. When I first started out trying to stop yelling, I did everything and anything to keep a yell from coming out of my mouth. Talked like a robot. Talked like I had marshmallows in my mouth. Talked like Bugs Bunny (What’s up son?) Whispered.

Said silly things like, “ooogaschmoogabooga!”

These “tricks” worked for a lot of reasons (for my goal of not yelling in the moment, we all know I needed to look deeper to stop yelling for the long run.) In the obvious way, they:

Gave my voice, my mouth, something else to do.
Made the kids focus more to listen.
Made the kids laugh which made us all feel better.
Helped us all to chillax in tense moments.

In the less obvious way, but just as important, these tricks:
Calmed my nervous system down by making me talk slower, and reduced stress in my body by balancing out all the hormones that go all over the place when in fight or flight.

So, lots of good benefits, right? I mean, and lets not forget the biggest two: they all helped me to stop yelling and get to a better place which therefore allowed us all to either connect or re-connect. Wins, wins all around.

The theme of all the tips? Being playful. I don’t worry about yelling at my teens as much as I did when they were seven and under. I am in a much better place, as are they. The dynamic has shifted.

So I don’t use these tricks as much to make sure I don’t yell but…these “tricks” are still applicable.
They still diffuse tension.
They still make us laugh.
They still help to reduce stress.
They still help us all to chillax.
They still help my nervous system after a long day.
They still help us to connect.

Being playful, being silly, it brings the intensity down so many notches, which is really needed with teens (and okay, me.)

Teens are struggling with holding on to being a kid and joining the world of being way more responsible. It is an intense place to be, I remember. (And also, okay, as a mom of a teen, it is also intense knowing that letting go even more is coming.) My kids enjoy my playfulness 98% of the time, sometimes I time it way wrong. It is a welcome break from all the intensity of school, social drama, worrying about the future (which even if not spoken about at home, is spoken about by friends and society), and changes they go through at this stage. Life is simply intense for them – good and not so much.

When I respond to my teens in a playful way, they are pleasantly surprised and I think relieved. It is kind of like how my making mistakes shows them being perfect isn’t the goal and is totally human and okay. Phew! Being playful is the same – it reminds them that as they become teens and “grow up” they can still be totally playful. Playful in the silly way, not “less than intelligent teen” way.

I know they know this (based on the evidence in my house, ahem, behavior I still see) but I also see glimpses of them trying to hold back. I can’t tell you their absolute favorite thing I do because it would embarrass them and that is a no go.

But I will say that it absolutely proves that they like the break from being a teen, that they like the flashback to being a little kid, when life was a little easier. It’s funny, I mean it isn’t funny, and that is just an odd saying, but whatev (feel like talking like teens did when I was one,) I started out being silly to try and get their attention. It was absolutely intentional. I wanted to do something so different that they had to see me, hear me, stop what they were doing, look up from their screens and look at me and wonder, “what the heck is mom doing?” It worked.

I got their attention. But I got more than the focused attention I wanted. I got loving attention. They looked at me with affection, with twinkles in their eyes. Smirks on their lips.

And then feigned annoyance in their voices which really meant, “Aw mom, I love you and you are so ridiculous.” We shared a moment. And getting those moments is so hard these days with moods and schedules and more moods and more schedules. Being ridiculous was so worth it. Beyond worth it.

So yeah, I started out being playful to get their attention, but now I do it because it turns out being playful isn’t just an effective tool to stop yelling, but it is a really fun way to start connecting. And on that note, it is time to make the Donuts (well get them) because that’s what we do if they are awake on time and my goodness, somehow everyone is ready on time today. Sending playful energy your way today, xoxo, The Orange Rhino © 2023

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Why Belonging Has Always Mattered So Much to Me

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Apparently, I have always just wanted to be accepted. I have always wanted to belong. To be a part of something. To not be the third wheel. To not be the odd one who overshared her feelings. To not be the one who had to explain herself, why she acted how she did. I realized this yesterday morning and it was a doooozy. Repeat, a doooozy. Total, utter, doozy. Even writing it just now brought tears to my eyes.

Where did this come from? Oh, just a simple question from Rachel, a.k.a. The Hands Free Revolution in her new book Soul Shift. She asked (notice how I write she, not the book, that is how it reads, truly like a conversation with a friend.) The question was about our childhood and happy memories – something like that.

My mind oddly went to, well, there are a few but sh*t, mostly, I just felt left out. I felt different. I felt like I was always trying to be seen for who I was; trying to be accepted for who I was; trying to also hide who I was.

Needless to say, I thought Thursday was hard because I thought I was going to lose you all, my “In Case of Emergency” folks.

Well, yesterday made Thursday look easy. But even though it was hard as heck to realize how much I longed for acceptance as a child – and lets face it – still do as an adult, it was beautiful. I write as tears stream down my face. Tears that are probably 40 something years old. This realization undoubtedly popped out ahead of all other memories as I have been working on acceptance as a core part of the future of The Orange Rhino – so it was really cool to make this connection. And also, really cool for me as a growing person to realize.

I don’t read a lot. Reading is actually really hard for me. Always has been. (Did you know that writing is too? That is why my style is what it is – whatever flows out, flows out.) But I do love to read books that make me think about my life and personal growth. And when I find a book that is amazing, that makes me profoundly think, that makes me fold every page so I make sure to go back and re-read and re-read because the thoughts have stuck with and instantly helped me, my difficulty with reading disappears and I find the stamina to power through. And oddly enough, to do so at lightning speed.

There are literally a handful of books in this category. Books with titles that I never forget, unlike my kids’ names that I seem to mix up daily! My dear Rachel, your book #SoulShiftBook is now in that category along with other New York Times Bestsellers…

Atomic Habits by James Clear
10% Happier by Dan Harris
The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin
Soul Shift by Rachel Macy Stafford

The Hands Free Revolution I kid you not. This book is golden. Y’all, I recall from my last post about this book how many of you have this book on your wish list. I know times are financially tough for many. I also know how impactful this book is and I want you to have it. I want to support you. I want you to feel how I have felt. I know I have said I have felt like crap. Yes, I am saying that.

But remember – I have also said how beautifully freeing it is! I have pre-ordered 3, make that 5 copies because of need, plus my own, because I know how important pre-orders are to Authors and because I truly want to support both Rachel and you. I will send these four copies to the first 6 people that email me at TheOrangeRhinoChallenge@gmail.com with the subject “Soul Shift” and your address included (US only please, sorry!) I ask that you be truly honest with yourself about your need as I know how many emails I will get.

And I also ask, that if like me, you yearn to be accepted, know that here, you are. All my love, The Orange Rhino © 2023

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino