Meet Bumpy

This is Bumpy

[Note: I wrote this when it happened back in October, but never posted it.]

Mothering boys is an adventure. Life is bigger, louder, faster, and messier than I ever thought it could be. But every now and again, things get very quiet, very small, and very slow ... even if only for an afternoon. That happened to us last Tuesday.

On Monday, we discovered that a woodpecker had gotten stuck in our garage. He kept flying from vertical perch to vertical perch as close to the ceiling as he could get, and each time he crossed the garage he bumped his head on the ceiling. So my boys started calling him Bumpy.

Life's Little Interruptions

Working from home can be interesting. Particularly on days when the kids are home from school. My husband was supposed to be home from a business trip last night and take off today, but the trip was unexpectedly extended. I didn't send the kids to a friend's house for babysitting because Joshua was too tired this morning.

What now?

Well, deadlines don't change because of business trips and tired kids, so I press on. I thought I would keep a list today of the little things that interrupted my work day. I've never done this before, so it could be interesting. Or boring. Or funny. Or depressing. But you never know until you start.

Ready.
Set.
Go!

Barriers to Entry

If you've ever studied business, you know that one of the things to consider when evaluating a business opportunity is the presence of barriers to entry. The term refers to what possible obstacles stand in the way of the business getting off the ground or gaining market share.

• Is the industry heavily regulated? Big barrier to entry.
• Is there a large financial investment necessary up front for equipment, land, people, etc.? Another barrier to entry.
• Are there already several established, dominant players in the market who could squash you like a bug? (Think John Deere, Microsoft, or Coke.) Yep...another barrier to entry.
• Or do you just need a lawnmower, edger, and a few flyers to put in people's mailboxes? Low barrier to entry.

Some of the barriers to entry aren't physical or financial ... they're mental. And they can be the biggest, hardest ones to overcome.  Those voices inside your head can be pretty loud.

And for me, I can be my own barrier to entry. You see, I'm a list maker. I can procrastinate just about anything away and blame it on a to do list of things that "had" to be done first, before I could even start.

A friend of mine (I use the term loosely ... we've met twice), Jon Acuff, is inspiring me to get over waiting for the perfect moment and simply jump at the first moment. This moment. Because this moment will never come again. And the perfect moment may never come at all.

Sunday Confessional: I'm an Adult Underachiever

"Hi. My name is Marybeth. And I'm an adult underachiever."

"Hi, Marybeth." (You know you thought it, even if you didn't say it.)

If you're reading this, there's a good chance that you know me personally. That's because right now, there aren't a lot of people who read my blog who don't share my last name or DNA.

So if you know me ... if you know my life ... you probably have no idea why I see myself as an underachiever.
 
I'm a wife and mother of four boys. (Many people probably think I should stop there. I truly believe there is a special place in heaven for the mother of boys. It is quiet and clean and full of breakable things and scented candles.)

From Finishing to Halftime

When I started my blog, I called it "Finish Well" because I realized that I'm a great starter and a sucky finisher. I had a gillion unfinished projects and books, and I thought that talking about them publicly might shame me into completing a few.

What I didn't even really consider is why I felt compelled to do this. Was it really just a pile of unfinished books and a cross-stitch Christmas stocking that's been eight years in the making? Or was there something more?

Then I realized it. I'm going through my midlife crisis.

I didn't recognize it, because it didn't look anything like what I thought a midlife crisis should look like.

I didn't buy a little red Corvette. (Though I'll take one if anyone's offering).

I didn't have an affair. (I'm sure Herb is glad to hear that one.)

I didn't have a nervous breakdown. (I have a little, tiny one every day, so no need to go overboard.)

My kids weren't all grown and out of the house. (That's about 12 more years away.)

But apparently the phenomenon isn't all that unusual. After all, Time magazine did a cover article about it in 2005.  (Click here to read it.)

Helping a Pet Finish Well

As a human, created in the image of God, we have an idea of what it's like to finish a life well.

I love my spouse well and support him in achieving his goals and fulfill his calling — whatever that looks like for him.

I prepare my children well for adulthood, help them to utilize their God-given talents to the best of their abilities, and make sure them know that they are always loved and valued by their Mom — especially when it seems I'm the only one.

I've always said that I wanted to leave the world a better place because I was in it through the touched lives of the people I leave behind.

What does it mean to finish well ... if you're a pet?

My Facebook Fast

I picked a sucky month to abstain from Facebook.

A really, really, REALLY sucky month.

The Olympics are going on, and I can't post about my very favorite Olympics moment of all time: when Keri Strugg's coach Bela Karolyi carried her to the podium after she tore two ligaments in her leg during her gold medal vault. (So instead, I'll post it here. Ha! Victory.) 

And I wasn't able to check in on Chick-fil-a Appreciation Day. (I was at the location at The Avenues in Cumming with Sandy around 8:30 p.m. in case you care.)