Four Things I Learned in February

1. I have to value progress, not completion.

The campaign lessons are coming hard and fast just two months into the process. I had this vision of raising ALL the money I needed for the campaign and having every ad designed and placed before the end of February. (For those of you with campaign experience, it's cool. I'll wait while you finish laughing.) As someone who values the completion of a task, the ongoing journey of a campaign can feel a bit overwhelming. Yes, there's a hard deadline (hello, May 17th!) but the overall work of the campaign continues the entire time. I'm not going to wrap up one task neatly before I move on to next and I have to accept that. I also have to remember to celebrate the successes and progress as they come instead of beating myself up for still working towards a goal. 

In other words, campaigning is going to be an excellent test of my personality quirks and emotional stumbling blocks. 

2. The easiest way to cook a sweet potato for breakfast.

I'm a big fan of sweet potato hash and eggs for breakfast. I used to grate the sweet potato and fry it but that was a) a lot of work and b) easy to burn. This month I started just popping the sweet potato in the microwave then scraping the cooked inside into the frying pan for a few seconds. So. Much. Easier. Also, just as delicious. 

3. Stitch Fix is awesome.

I posted about the box when it first arrived. It was so fun and exciting to get it in the mail I was worried that after thrill wore off I might have buyer's remorse. Nope! Have been wearing the heck out of the jeans, which was actually the item I was most skeptical of!

4. John Oliver is the king

Stitch Fix and building a capsule wardrobe

First up, MAD PROPS to the style bloggers. Taking pics of yourself in clothes is STINKING hard, especially if you would like to avoid cleaning up your house but don't want to show the unmade bed and dirty laundry in the background!

I signed up for Stitch Fix and my first box arrived! HUZZAH! 

For those of you unacquainted, Stitch Fix is hand-selected women's fashion shipped free, straight to your door. You get a personal stylist and you get to try on at home risk-free. Buy what you want. Send back what you don't.

I hate shopping so there is nothing not awesome about this. As I've previously mentioned, I've been trying to build a capsule wardrobe (I swear there's a full post coming on this soon!) and I was ready to add some warm weather items - as well as campaign-appropriate professional gear. Stitch Fix seemed like the solution.

In my first box, I received a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans, a split neck blouse, reversible knit top, woven blazer, and Colorblock knit dress. 

Boyfriend jeans - The jeans actually fit really well and I liked the cut really well. However, I don't really need another pair of jeans and distressed isn't really my thing. It looks cute on other people but I always feel like I'm trying too hard.

Split neck blouse - I loved the cut of this blouse but the color isn't great on me and tends to dull my hair. I asked for brighter colors because I have so. much. black and gray and it's starting to bum me out. Alas, this color wasn't quite right.

Reversible knit top - Well, first of all, it's striped. Navy stripes. I LOVE a good stripe. Second of all, it's REVERSIBLE. That's like two tops in one. I loved the weight of the knit and it fits really well. Plus, the key to capsule wardrobe is having flexible pieces that works lots of different ways. This definitely fits the bill. 

Woven blazer - I really like the idea of this blazer. I really liked the way it was a little bit slouchy and the back was longer than the front. Alas, as I tried to get a flattering picture of me in it, I realized I was having trouble because it just wasn't flattering. It didn't fit snugly enough around my ribs to make the slouchy-ness work and the color wasn't particularly flattering.

Colorblock knit dress - Love this dress. I don't usually go for Colorblocking but it's professional while still seeming modern. The colors are great and it fits really well. I still need a blazer that works with it but I'll get my new stylist on it!

BUT I want to hear what y'all think!

How I talk to my kids about hard things

A while back I asked y'all if there were any subjects you'd like me to tackle. I got so many great responses but there was a common thread among many of the answers.

How do I talk to my kids about race? How do I talk to my kids about different abilities? How do I talk to my kids about sexual identity? How do I talk to my kids about gay people?

I've talked kids and race before.  I've shared how my mom talked to me about sex and how I now talk to my kids about sex. I've also tackled other tough subjects like death. 

And if you want all MANNER of wisdom on interacting and helping your child interact with someone different than them, you really need to go hang out on Annie's blog for a while.

The more I thought about it. The more I realized people weren't just talking about specific subjects. They were asking about something more general. 

How do I talk to my kids about hard things?

Look, I'm not a psychiatrist. I'm not an expert on child development. Half the internet is dedicated to parenting advice and half of that is dedicated to advice on how to talk to your kids about difficult things such as death and sexuality. 

So, I'm not going to give advice. I don't think that's what you're asking for anyway. I think what you're asking is - what's it like to talk to your kids about death? how does it feel to answer your kids' questions about sex? how do I know I'm not screwing it up?

That I can speak to.

Tackling tough subjects with your kids is as hard as you think it is and easier at the same time. We try to keep the world so black and white for our kids. We try to make things simple and understandable. Hitting is bad. Sharing is good. When they get old enough to understand harder subjects, it feels a bit like we've sold them a bill of goods. They look up at you with their wide eyes and their "What do you mean bad things happen?" face and you feel like a fraud. 

Or, at least, I did. 

It's hard to be vulnerable with your kids. It's hard to acknowledge you don't have all the answers and you never did.  The first time Griffin asked me about death I wanted so desperately to assure him nothing was ever going to happen to me and I was going to live a long time. But that is not true and it would dishonor those I have lost if I pretended it was. 

It's hard to say, "I don't know" - to anyone much less your own child. 

Say "I don't know" anyway.

Vulnerability really is the only way. Every time I've tackled a tough subject with my kids I realize how much my own opinions and ideas are tied up in how I feel about a subject I thought was universal. It's hard sorting out my own perspective so that my children have the chance to form their own. 

But by exposing ourselves and our insecurities to our kids, we're teaching them something so much bigger than lessons about death or identity.

We're showing up. We're saying, "It's more important to me that I'm honest with you then that you believe I have all the answers." 

We're saying, "I'm here for your tough questions." We're showing our kids that being present through the tough stuff is all we can really offer those we love. 

Know you'll get some stuff wrong. I've had to back up on things I've told Griffin about race and about sexuality. I've had to say, "You know I told you this but I thought more about it and I think I was wrong. What I really meant was..."

And that's a good thing in a way. I'm showing my kids that they don't come to me for answers. They come to me for conversations and those conversations get easier. Nothing is as bad as we anticipate it to be and that's what I mean by these talks being hard and easy at the same time. Once you've taken a breath and just started, the current carries you along and you realize you and your child are staying afloat together.

I want to have conversations with my kids - about tough subjects - about ANY subjects. I want them to trust I'll be honest. I want them to know I'll get things wrong but that I'm doing the best they can. 

I want them to know hard things are hard but that the hardest things offer opportunities for growth and insight and connection.