By Tracee Sioux

I started a book club two months ago. A lovely woman showed up and suggested we call it Between the Covers. It implies something just a little naughty - I dig it.

I have always wanted a group of women that I hang out with on a regular basis and I'm a huge reader. I kept wishing this into my life. But, you know, I live in a small town and I never got an invitation.

That's the problem - I was waiting for an invitation. Two months ago I decided I would extend the invitation and suffer the possible rejection of no one wanting to come to my book club. Cause really, that's what's hard about making new friends - the possible rejection.

I want it to be some place where an eclectic group of women meet and share something of themselves and let's face it - get out of the house without their kids or significant others.

The interesting thing has been the rejections. Yes, I've asked women that I've seen around town to come and they've not even considered the idea. Not even for two seconds. But, the rejection hasn't been about me (no I don't like you enough to hang out once a month).

It's been about the lack of time and money available to spend on themselves. Let's face it, to be in a book club you have to buy the book. I buy all books used at Amazon or at a garage sale or after a trade with a used book store because we're on the Dave Ramsey http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/01/shut-up-john-mayer-stop-waiting-for.html zero-based budget plan and it must come out of my blow money. So, we aren't reading new releases at my book club. But you still have to be willing to spend a couple of bucks on yourself. Then, you have to actually make the time for yourself to read the book. Yes, take the book into the bathtub or to bed with you and stay awake long enough to read a couple of pages. You have to say, hey, I deserve some time to be off in my own head and read for a little while. And then you have to find a babysitter or make sure your spousage (stole that term off another blog - be flattered) understands that he must be home in time to watch the kids so you can actually GO to the book club for an hour-and-a-half. Knowing that childcare would be a problem I even arranged the book club to be on a day where babysitting is available at the local indoor playground, but then you have to decide that me-time is worth the $3 an hour it costs to leave the kids there. For some, that's a problem cause it's just not in the zero-based budget, especially if you're dropping off three or four kids.

Anywho. The point is that some women I've talked to have just said, no way can I afford myself all of that time and energy. Maybe they have other ways to take time for themselves and I truly hope that is so. But, it worries me to think that they have reserved nothing for themselves because if that's the case I think the messages they are sending to the entire family are negative.

The message is: Women don't deserve time or money to spend on themselves. Daughters grow up being the same relentless super-women their own mothers are and emulate the behavior of never taking time to relax and enjoy their own interests. Sons grow up and expect their wives to sacrifice every second for the family.

Robin McGraw actually wrote a whole book, Inside My Heart, http://www.amazon.com/Inside-My-Heart-Choosing-Passion/dp/078521836X/ref=pd_bbs_1/103-9541949-9891038?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1175357195&sr=8-1 about women needing to take time for themselves. Now, I haven't read it because I haven't yet found it at a garage sale and it would be a little too naughty of me to spend $24.99 on a book. But, the gist according to the one-hour advertisement on Dr. Phil when she released the book was, women are driving themselves to the ground by never taking time for themselves and perhaps it's best to be a little naughty and take the time to explore personal interests before you drive yourself into an early grave with all this self-sacrifice.

by Tracee Sioux

Please do not read this if you are feeling grouchy or critical - come back later when you're in the mood for some spiritual talk and want to send generosity of spirit and encouragement my way.

I've only received two "words" from God, directly to me, Tracee Sioux, in my whole life. Well, at least that I can recall recognizing them as such. I mean, God's probably been super-verbal my whole life, but I wasn't tuning in. That is most likely the case. And I call it two words, but they are the same scripture so it's all connected and it feels like maybe it is the exact same thing he's been trying to tell me my whole life.

But, this time. This time I get it.

I've openly discussed my shameful feelings of desperation for a man to love me. For a man to recognize my beauty and encourage my talents and skills. God was gracious enough to give me a moment of clarity where I could see exactly how this is playing out in my marriage, which plays out in front of my daughter. I am desperate for him to validate who I am, he exploits that to get what he wants, my daughter sees that and adopts my desperation mistaking it for love. You can read all about the consequences of this ridiculous cycle in my article Desperation by Osmosis. http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/03/desperation-by-osmosis.html

The other is about my career. I used to be a successful reporter. I wrote for newspapers in Utah and California for about 4 years and then moved to New York and wrote for a travel trade magazine. I was good at it. I won awards and made a decent living. I was driven and I found the work deeply gratifying.

Then I became a mother and it changed the significance of work in my life. Now, I was torn between what I thought was best for the baby and what I thought was best for my career. Truthfully, it was sort of an unforeseen dilemma in my life and in my marriage. Before the birth of my daughter daycare was hypothetical. After the birth it became something I just couldn't do.

You have to understand that I was raised Mormon. Mormon with a capital "M." I was bred to breed. To mother was my entire function as a woman. To be a stay-at-home mother was entirely expected of a "good mother." My entire training as a girl centered around one day having children and then devoting my life to staying at home and caring for them. When it was a hypothetical issue that played itself out in the media I could honestly say that I believed I could do both - pursue my career and mother my children in the best way possible. But, when that choice was staring me in the face I just couldn't. That's all. I couldn't. Right or wrong. I just couldn't drop my baby off at daycare for 50 hours a week to pursue my writing career and miss the whole mothering experience that happens during those 50 hours.

I attempted to do it several times. We moved to East Texas and I got a job at the local daily and tried to resume my writing career before our daughter turned two. But, it caused a tremendous amount of anxiety and depression. I just couldn't care about the pot holes or the city council meetings or any of the other nonsense I found myself writing about. Because while I was writing about it I was just thinking about how my daughter was being put to bed by someone else and the only time I had seen her that day was to get her ready for school and drop her off.

Don't misunderstand me. I am not saying that the only way a woman can be a great mother is to stay home. I'm not judging anyone else's decisions. I'm just admitting that the conflict for me was too great to bear and it led to a whole lot of very real pain. I started taking prescriptions to manage the anxiety and to quiet the guilt and minimize the depression. Then I became dependent on the medication and ended up in the hospital trying to go cold turkey without having seizures from withdrawal of the medication.

I quit writing all together for several years. I felt betrayed by my gift, and yes, I will be honest I believe I have a gift. I felt too much anger toward my self for not being able to manage both my writing career and my mothering instinct. I took jobs in the photography profession and developed those skills instead. I had always worked as a photojournalist as well, so there was real interest there and I could leave work at work and be emotionally present for my family when I was at home.

But, I missed the writing. I've always communicated through writing. I've worked very hard to become a skilled writer. I've always felt driven to say what I have to say. I've felt driven to help people communicate their stories. I've been pretty successful at it in the past.

Kid two. We had a baby a year ago and I, of course, felt compelled to stay home with him for the first year. I just think it does matter who changes them, feeds them, talks to them, lays them down for a nap. And I feel it's my right, responsibility and privilege to be the one who mothers him.

One day I'm sitting in church and the sermon is on burying your talents. I believe it's Matthew 25:25 where God punishes the servant who buries his talents rather than multiplying his talents. Now, perhaps you're one of the Bible scholars who believes this story is about money and I don't waste my time arguing semantics of theology. For me, this verse was clearly about my writing. That it was time for me to get over the anger and betrayal I felt about my writing talent and the conflicts it had led to in my life. So the Pastor says anyone who wants to be prayed for to stop burying their talents should up up and be prayed over by the congregation.

So there I am standing alone in front of the whole church being prayed over. And I tell God.

If you want me to use my talents to write, then I will write. But, you have to make clear to me what I am to write about. It can't be a struggle. I must be inspired and it must do good and I need it to not conflict with my mothering.

And I waited. And then I started feeling inspired to write. I started getting some clarity about some things in my life. I started opening up the Bible in my darkest hours and always, without fail I would turn to I Timothy 4:14-16.

Neglect not the gift that is in thee; which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery.

Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them; that thy profiting may appear to all.

Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them. For in doing this thou shalt save thyself, and them that hear thee.

And I began to write. To write things I care about deeply. To write from a place of empowerment for myself, for my daughter and for my audience. And I have sent articles to magazines and a book to publishers and posted my writing on this blog. All in faith that it will be helpful to those who read it and in the faith that I will profit from it.

My husband, a Christian, mocks and minimizes my words from God.

I told him that if he can't love who I am today, then he should move out and stop punishing me. I don't have the capacity to be anyone other than me and I'm a fantastic woman and I deserve to be married to someone who thinks so.

He packed his bags and moved out last night. He wants me to take another menial part-time job and pursue my writing in my "spare time" until the money starts to flow in. He wants better cars and a bigger house and he wants to play golf and have some fun. (Who doesn't?)

But, I believe I should act on faith and devote myself wholly to it. Really it all leads back to the first word from God about his attempts at controlling me through my desperation for him to validate and encourage me.

As you can see, I've staked everything on faith in this one scripture. Faith that I will get a completely transformed marriage that is positive and fulfilling to us and our children. Faith that if I write what I feel inspired to write that it will lead to profit for my family. Faith that my readers will benefit from my vulnerable insights. Faith that I will start getting acceptance letters from magazines and book publishers. That I will win the writing contests that I've entered. That I will see my Adsense and Bidvertiser accounts grow to contribute to our family's financial stability.

I told God last night as I lay in bed, now would be a good time to give him a sign that I should follow my writing path. I think a check and an acceptance letter and a bunch of clicks on my blog would be a good sign, don't you?

by Tracee Sioux

Last year when my mother came to visit my then four-year-old daughter was being down right rude to her.

During a moment alone I confronted Ainsley, You are being rude to Grandma.

What's got into you? You are not allowed to treat anyone that way.Well, YOU do! she shot back.There was so much truth in that statement I couldn't even pretend to deny it. It was a sure case of "do as I say and not as I do" parenting.

This time when Grandma visited I resolved to mind my manners and be a good example of compassion and kindness and love and peace with my mother. God knows I don't want Ainsley being rude to me when she grows up and has children.

I LOVE my mother. She's an extremely generous and loving woman. She invests herself fully. She gives her time, energy, money and devotion to those she loves and even to those she doesn't. She's funny. She's open to new ideas. She's beautiful. She's a stellar home maker. She's smart.She taught me so much about keeping house that my friends have me mend their favorite T-shirts because my mother took the time to teach me to use a needle and thread. She taught me to be crafty. She taught me to be frugal and stretch a dollar. Everything I know about how to clean and cook and be a mother - I learned from her. My dad was military so really, everything I know about the world I learned from my mother.

How grateful I am for my mother. Her generosity in sharing her knowledge knows no limits.

Yet, I find it nearly impossible to be my adult self around her. I forever feel 14-years-old in her presence and I HATED being 14. There's really so little power in it.

Mom - Posture, it's all about posture.

Me - I'm walking just fine mom, there is nothing wrong with my posture.

Mom - Don't feed the baby hot dogs, it's so dangerous.

Me- Yeah I cut it into tiny pieces.

Mom - Well, now he wants the hot dog, you can't tease him like that.

Mom - Just let her wear what she wants, there are bigger battles to fight.

Mom- She's not going into public with me looking like that.

Mom- Now, I don't want her scribbling all over this expensive art paper and making it all blah. I spent a lot of money on that and I don't want her wasting it.

Me- She's five, Mom. Free painting isn't a waste, it's how they learn. Art is supposed to be fun.

Mom - Well, I don't want her free painting on this, promise you won't let her just destroy this stuff.

Mom- I heard about this woman who had a separate room in her house that she kept locked. That's where she kept the toys. And once a day the kids were allowed to go in and pick two toys a month. It kept the house clean.

Me - Well, I don't want to be crazy psycho mom who locks the toys away. The kids will just pick up the toys. We just have a very small house and it's hard to keep up with it.

Mom- Yeah, they'll pick them up if you MAKE them.

Me - Well, I'll just make them. I don't want to be "control freak mom." I want to be "childhood should be fun mom." I'd rather have a cluttered house.

With each passing day I become more and more defensive, and yes, rude. Trying to keep a boundary between who I AM and who she wants me to be.

Recently, Ainsley was going through a period of missing me. She'd miss me at school. She'd miss me at her Nana's house or even just going to bed alone. I thought back to all the years that I've been struggling to quiet my own mother's voice inside my head and realized that at her age the constant voice might actually comfort her.

Ainsley, close your eyes and think about what you do when you get ready to go to school, I told her one night when she had been complaining of missing me. What do you have to do to get ready?

Brush my hair. Get dressed. Brush my teeth.

Whose voice do you hear in your head telling you what you have to do to get ready to go somewhere?

Yours.

What does it sound like?

Brush your hair, put shorts on under that skirt, brush your teeth. Come on let's go. She said in a sing-song nag. In exactly the same tone I hear in my head when I hear my mother telling me to go put on a bra or that I shouldn't wear those shoes to walk in or my hair needs to be fixed.

That's right Ainsley, I told her. For the rest of your life, it's my voice that will be in your head telling you what to do. Now, you don't have to miss me when you're in school laying down for nap-time. You can just close your eyes and hear my voice in your head telling you to brush your hair or change your dirty shirt. I'm in your head and in your heart always. You will always have me with you where ever you go, even when you grow up and have kids of your own.

It's not such a bad thing to have your mother's voice in your head. Quite a lot of the time she's telling you great things that will help you along the wa. For instance, when I see the poor woman at school with a hump and sit up straighter, Posture, posture, it's all about posture.

The job of adolescence and early adulthood is to filter what that voice says. You choose to keep the good things and block out the bad things. As you get better and better at the filtering and editing of your mother's voice you learn to appreciate the mother you were blessed with. And hopefully you become a better mother yourself along the way.

Update on March 31, 2007

When my daughter was getting ready to go away overnight she came to me with a heart-shaped bracelet and said,

Mommy, I am giving this to you so you will not miss me. Don't be sad. You can always hear my voice in your head. I am always in your heart so you can look at this and know that I am always with you.

I call that effective. Sure enough, while she is gone I can certainly close my eyes and hear her sweet voice telling me that she loves me and that I'm the best mommy ever!

By Tracee Sioux

I think generosity and gratefulness are two attributes kids should learn early. It is very hard to teach empathy to a 33 year old, but much easier to teach it to 3, 4, and 5 year olds.

In our family we donate 10% of everything we bring in. It's a sound principle.

Giving away money away instills blessings of faith. Faith that there will be enough money to meet my needs, even if I give a substantial amount of money away.

Giving instills generosity in your spirit - God is so generous with me that I can afford to be generous with others.

Giving instills gratefulness - I have food and clothes and shelter and cars, I am so blessed that I can afford to help those who may not be as blessed as I am.

We have a tradition twice a year at Ainsley's birthday and at Christmas of going through her things and choosing which ones we will give to "the poor kids."

Throughout the year I look for real teaching moments. Recently, a family's home burned down and I took all the baby and kid clothes and dishes I had been saving for a garage sale. I asked Ainsley if she had anything to give a kid who lost all of her things in a fire, and she went to her precious book collection and selected six or seven to give away.

Recently, I've begun putting aside a portion of our income to give away to people that God puts in our path. With my kids in tow, I have twice given the cashier at the grocery store money to pay for another person's groceries. I don't know why God wants them to have my $22 or $44, I just have faith that God chose them to be behind me in line knowing that they will receive my offering.

Every single time I feel butterflies in my stomach, I get a little nervous and my heart starts to beat a little faster. Mostly because people react suspiciously and want to know my motive. They always ask, Are you sure? As if I may have gone a little crazy and perhaps I might need some help myself. Especially if I've just put something from my own grocery cart back because I went a little over budget, then the cashier starts to look for help to deal with the crazy lady who wants to pay for a strangers groceries while she can't afford her own.

Last week I called about purchasing a used television because mine is on the blink. I hadn't planned on buying a new TV that day, but I had some time to kill and the want ads in my hands and a cell phone. There was only one listing.

The woman said she had hurt her leg and been out of work and they were going to turn the electricity off so she had to sell the TV quick, she wanted $80 for the TV and said she'd throw in her nearly-new VCR. I told her I'd come look at it.

I'm going to give you this $120 for your light bill. Then you can afford to keep your TV, I told her.

Oh No! You've got to at least take the TV, why would you do that? You can't afford to do that, you've got 2 kids to take care of! Why? Why? she screamed, waking the baby.

If I do something kind for you. Then one day, when someone is in need, you will do something kind for them. Then the world is a better place, right? So, I can afford this and we aren't going to take your only TV.

The sweet woman showed me her light bill as proof that she really needed the money. Said she had a job at a boy's home starting on Monday but they were going to disconnect her lights before she got paid. Said she had had a house burn down and none of the churches would help her because she didn't attend and the Red Cross hadn't helped either.

She started to weep and said, no one has ever done anything this kind for me before. You must be an angel sent by God.

How sad. That this woman, old enough to have grown kids, had never had anyone show her any kindness. It's about time someone did a random act of kindness for her - don't you think? I have been blessed many times by strangers, friends and family. In fact, I continue to be so blessed that I very rarely buy my kids' clothes and they always have way more clothes than they need.

In the car I asked Ainsley what she thought of that whole scene.

Mommy, you should have taken that TV! Now we still don't have a TV!

We have a small TV that we can watch until we get a big TV. But, don't you think God will take care of us because we helped that poor woman?

Oh Mommy, God is going to be so happy about you giving her that money and leaving her TV! You are so nice!

Only after this exchange had taken place did it occur to me that perhaps it was not my TV, but my Dish receiver that was malfunctioning. Yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone renegotiating my contract. A technician is coming on Thursday and bringing a free DVR with him and I betcha my TV will work just fine.

Try a random act of kindness this week. Pay your blessings forward. Give a stranger a helping hand: buy someone a tank of gas or some groceries or help them fill a prescription and see how right it feels.

Let your kids see you do it, let them participate, and you will raise generous and grateful children who grow into generous and grateful adults. Then the planet really is a better place to live.

By Tracee Sioux

The intention of this blog is to give great advice on how to empower yourself and empower your daughter. Many times I'm writing as an issue comes up with my daughter. This means that I am putting my advice in to practice and I intend to update readers with the reality of how effective my advice has been -- for me.

I invite you to let me know if you have implemented any suggestions and to leave comments about whether or not my advice was effective for you.

Going backwards . . .

Yes, she's a Brat

Ainsley is a brat this season. I called and asked them to change her team and they didn't even call me back. They said it would leave her team with only 8 players and that's not allowed.

I could choose to pick up my ball and go home. And I guess that would be a valid decision to make.

But, Ainsley is a Superstar!!! She loves the game, she's getting great exercise and she totally ROCKS at soccer! She literally stopped the Grasshoppers from scoring, stole the ball and RAN it down the entire length of the field and she SCORED!! She did that 3 times on Saturday.

I've thought of making an acronym with the letters in BRATZ -- remember when we were kids and we used to say "Yeah I'm a PIG - Pretty Intelligent Girl." I thought about writing it downwards on the shirt. Brave, Radical, Athletic, Team, Zorro . . . (obviously, that's a work in progress - wordsmiths can come up with something better and email me suggestions @ traceesioux@yahoo.com).

I really have to say though that it has given me a great opportunity to discuss why I believe Bratz are a bad idea with parents who never thought about it before. I've discussed it with my book club, with parents at a birthday party, with the parents and coach of Ainsley's team and we're only 3 weeks into the season. I believe the discussion is helpful to other parents, making them examine what they really think about it. Honestly, I believe most of them have a gut feeling that those Bratz dolls are a bad influence, but they really don't know that they can stand up to the mass marketing to our children.

Best of all, it's given me opportunities to teach Ainsley these lessons:

• Stand up for yourself, it's not that bad to stand alone.
• Never shut up to appease or go along with the crowd.
• We define our own selves, not our shirts, our team names or other people.
• Principles are important.
• Sometimes we have to choose between two principles
• Find the positive in a situation.
• Don't quit, be a good sport and handle yourself with poise and dignity.

But, next season we'll repool and find another team during enrollment or we'll change the team name to Happy Feet. I think I'll volunteer to coach too. http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/02/go-bratz-go.html

Our Sin Beauty Bank is empty -- and that's a good thing

The Sin Beauty Bank has been hugely effective. It's empty - we spent the 75 cents that was in it. Ainsley has only said anything weighty about her body once and that was to get attention from some self-loathing relatives we were visiting.

Just the act of deciding that we would not criticize our bodies anymore was very effective. Even better, I've been extremely grateful about my body which has increased my self-worth.

I'm getting so strong and could actually run a mile now and I feel so powerful when I work out. It's increased health I really aim for.

Sometimes while I do Yoga I just pray, "Thank you God for this healthy and strong body. I feel so magnificently powerful - like I can do anything - when I am in warrior pose. This fantastic body grew two perfect, healthy babies, thanks for that miracle of an opportunity. Thanks for my breasts that held up rather well and for my abs which are finding strength again." http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/01/self-loathing-sin-bank.html

Husband's education paid for

Through Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University we have paid off around $8,000 in bills, including my husband's student loan. We are down to one bill - my student loan.

I still find myself envying what other people have on occasion - especially when I go to their homes and see all their beautiful and coordinated furniture and art. But, then I find out that it's all financed and they are getting ulcers from the stress of paying for all their pretty financed things.

That's when I thank God that we learned our lesson and we will never, ever finance anything but a home. So, when you come to my house and envy my things one day, know that I OWN it outright and I saved the money to buy it. It's a position of liberation.

Interestingly, that last two people I can recall envying have been more than excited to hear about Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University and confessed that though they appear to have it all, they sometimes bounce checks or miss payments due to being overextended. http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-saw-satan-on-tv-and-hes-little-dork.html

Not a Princess-Nazi

We still have a rule about no princesses, but today Ainsley was given some dress-up clothes with Cinderella and Ariel's profile on them.

I let her keep them. I reminded her that I don't care for princesses because Cinderella could have gone to law school and saved herself and Ariel shouldn't have give-up her gifts and talents or her right to speak to find a boyfriend.

She can't help it - she still likes those stupid princesses. She wants to please me, but she also wants to wear that dress. I don't want to be so strict about it that she loves the princesses even more, because my gut tells me that will turn out badly.

So, sometimes I conscientiously let her break the princess ban if someone hands something down. http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/01/princess-ban.html