hello, my name is mary allison, and i am a delinquent blogger. i know you are all attributing my silence to one of the following things:

1. i joined the witness protection program and am now living in boise, working at subway, and breeding cocker spaniels.

2. my children have finally driven me past the point of insanity and i have taken off on an impromptu cross-country drive with no definite plans of return.

3. a pillow fort has blocked access to my computer:

alas, if my life held the drama and intrigue of items 1 & 2, i would have written a memoir by now, and i walk through pillow forts every day. no big deal.

all i know is that since my last post on august 30th, the following things have happened:

1. my children started back to school after labor day and then had a five-day fall break two seconds later.

2. i turned 35.

3. i started re-reading eckhart tolle’s a new earth:

4. my job at the university of memphis stopped resembling the tv show apprentice and morphed into relational ministry. in other words, my makeshift marketing campaign has given way to face-to-face contact with actual students! i believe in miracles.

5. the monkey started taking suzuki violin, and i rented myself a fiddle too. we make terrible, fantastic music together. remember this post about great expectations?

6. i made good on my promise to mask the bird’s wall doodlings with wild designs. if you stand still in my house for too long, there is a good chance that you will be stenciled.

new obsession: www.oliveleafstencils.com

p.s. did you know you can stencil fabric and flat-weave rugs? good times.

7. i discovered that i can download books via the audible app on my phone and wash dishes and fold clothes to the riveting saga of the hunger games trilogy. i actually look forward to household chores now. for the love of clean dishes and laundered clothes and all that is holy, suzanne collins needs to write some more books.

8. andy and i took a little trip to lake oconee, outside of atlanta. the kids stayed with my folks. we each slept for 12 hours, three nights in a row. i wore my vintage polyester house dress around the hotel like a crazy person. what’s the point in changing clothes just to wander down the hall for a glass of wine?

9. i got to serve communion to my children at our church’s family camp in middle tennessee. the ritual of communion is mysterious and multifaceted, and i will never fully understand it. but this i know: it was bread from heaven. also, the bird spit his portion of bread into the cup.

http://www.nacome.org/

i promise not to wait a month and a half to post again. off to polish the silver, iron my underwear, and plant bulbs in the front beds before the kids awake.

just kidding. i’m still not martha stewart. some things never change.

wednesday marked the first day of hanukkah and the first day of december, and last sunday marked the first day of advent. my favorite local radio station began playing holiday music before thanksgiving, and a giant inflatable santa has been looming over union avenue since before the last pumpkin was procured from beneath his (slightly premature) air-filled feet. this is the time of year when i usually get serious about my spirituality.

in years gone by, i have read a bit of tillich each day, edited and published college students’ thoughts on advent, and spent time pouring over wonderful holiday stories by harper lee and truman capote. but those years are as i just described: gone by. there is no time for intense study, no time for ruminating on light in the darkness, no time to be so intentional about making room for hope and divinity and the dawn of new life. 

instead, there are santa beard christamas countdown calendars involving cotton balls and glue. there are cookie-baking parties and charlie brown specials. i think bonnie j. miller-mclemore says it best in her book entitled, “in the midst of chaos:”

“when people think of the spiritual life, they typically picture silence, uninterrupted and serene — a pastor’s study, a cloister walk, a monk’s cell. thinking of parenting, by contrast, they imagine noise and complication, dirty diapers, sleepless nights, phone calls from teachers, endless to-do lists, teen rooms strewn with stuff, and back seat pandemonium. by and large, these portraits are accurate. the life of faith requires focused attention that comes most easily when one is least distracted, while caring for children is one of the most intrusive, disorienting occupations around, requiring triage upon triage of decision and response. can one pursue a ‘spiritual’ life in the midst of such regular, nitty-gritty, on-the-alert demands” (2)?

when the holidays hit, there is no time to simulate the perfect conditions, tie up loose ends, or send grief away on a month-long cruise. my children are just as inclined to create poopy diapers and impromptu marker-on-wall illistrations on christmas morning as they are on every other day. there is no such thing as escaping the chaos in order to locate one’s spirituality. the meaning is IN the chaos. the chaos IS the pastor’s study, the cloister walk, and the monk’s cell. parents have the added challenege and opportunity to look for the extraordinary in the ordinary.

so that is what i’m going to do this holiday season. i am going to look for moments of deep truth and goodness in the midst of our particular brand of pandemonium. and then i am going to post about these moments in an image or phrase. if the bedlam that exists in your house should happen to contain a glimpse of divinity or insight, do share (themsrevolution(at)gmail(dot)com)! there’s no telling what we can find in the midst of chaos.

[source for this post can be found on the bibliography page located on the sidebar to your right.]

so sorry for the infrequent posting lately. i am spending the month of july in the mountains with my family.

besides the fact that it takes longer to connect to the internet here than it does to put a hyped-up almost-four-year-old to bed, i keep getting lured away from the computer by scenes like this:

i will return to my regular posting in august, but until then, please nominate yourselves and others for my “mothers of invention” feature. the questionnaire and my email address can be found in the sidebar to your right.

also, we’ll kick off the upcoming school year with a second volume of the “dancing in the kitchen mix.” if you have music suggestions that are upbeat, kid-friendly, and do *NOT* lend themselves to saccharine and mind-numbing hand motions, please send them my way!

i’ll be using this blog break to brainstorm about future post topics and other creative ideas for this space. please feel free to make suggestions regarding future content.

hope to hear from you soon!

i am always thrilled when readers leave little photographic gems in my inbox. if you have funny pictures of your child(ren), by all means, share the humor and send them on. (the pictures, that is, not the children. i’ve got my hands full over here.)

today’s picture is from anna, who writes, “The night of C’s ballet recital she wanted to sleep in her tutu. I told her no, bathed her, dressed her in pjs, and when I came in to check on her later this is what I found:”

well C sure showed them, huh?

i returned last night from the young clergy women’s conference, the topic of which was “leading as ourselves.” as i sat in the sub-artic environs of our candler divinity school classroom and looked around at my fellow girl preachers, i was struck by both awe and jealousy. many of these women work full time in the church or other para-church settings. some of them have children, some of them work part-time or half-time, but very few seemed to be on the piecemeal job plan as i am, stringing together a haphazard collection of part-time gigs with the trials and rewards of stay-at-home motherhood.

i learned later, of course, that i am not the only one holding my life and life’s work together with odd combinations of pipe cleaners, vestments, therapy, wine, and a steam mop. the room was full of those who long, as i did, to have children; those who struggle for balance of all kinds; those who are facing transitions; and those who are wrestling with issues of identity. 

i did not know all of this on day one, though, when one of our beloved speakers, melissa clodfelter, asked us what leadership-related topics we would like to cover in our time together. so, i raised my hand and explained that i am often trying to lead from the margins. because of my simultaneous frustration and delight with the church and my desire to spend the majority of my time with the monkey and the bird, i am never central to the church’s power structures. i often feel like an outsider, and i wonder if i can ever actually effectively lead from this position. though i felt as if i were speaking only for myself at the conference, i know that the world is full of women who feel marginalized in the workplace, whether for reasons of choice or unfair circumstance. what kind of leadership do we, the women on the fringes, have to offer?

i was relieved when melissa answered that the margins are the places from which true leadership emerges. it is only by stepping outside of the structures that rule our world that we gain the perspective needed to change things. fitting in is not a prerequisite for effective leadership, as evidenced by gandhi, martin luther king jr., and jesus christ, himself! in fact, affecting change requires an uncomfortable, liminal type of existance.

i am beginning to see that leadership, from my own personal margins might look like this:

• changing the world, by raising boys who are emotionally intelligent, compassionate, and justice-seeking. brown eyes over scrambled eggs, and all that…
• remaining on the fringes of church in order to speak from a place of perspective and insight.
• remaining connected to the church so that my perspective and insight will matter.
• writing here about what it’s like to try fashion a real, meaningful life that honors my own leanings as well as the legacies handed down to me by superwomen, fifties housewives, and everyone in between.

but mostly, i’m beginning to be thankful that i never quite fit in anywhere. in an odd sort of way, i am in good company. and there is meaning to be found in the margins and proclaimed to the world. thanks for joining me in this process — this little makeshift revolution.

someone recently asked me what the most surprising thing about motherhood has been for me, and my immediate answer was that i had no idea how often this job would send me into hysterical fits of laughter.

apparently, i’m not the only one who lives with little comedians. my post on children’s bizarre sleeping accoutrements  promted one reader to send me a link to this picture:

yes, both of this reader’s children slept on foam, fold-out couches, like this one, IN their beds.

another reader’s younger child was once spotted sleeping amidst a veritable bouquet of plastic food, arranged carefully by her older child.

and finally, on the day that i confessed that my children have two different mothers, i received this shot from the proud mama of the above pictured food sleeper:

it’s nice to know that i’m not the only mother whose fierce protection of the first child was replaced by a strange willingness to allow the second child to get “pushed around.”

my children’s ages and need for regular naps, combined with the fact that i do most of my preparation for work in a home-office sometimes make for a lonely and stir-crazy existence. the best thing that has happened since i started this blog is that i now enjoy regular contact with friends, old and new. 

so, keep the crazy pictures coming. the opportunity to laugh out loud at the idiosyncrasies of other people’s children is just the plastic icing on the plastic cake!

the results of my little filming session with the mutual of omaha aha moment folks were posted yesterday afternoon. my reactions to seeing myself on video are always twofold:

1. i can’t believe this is what i look like, sound like, act like, etc.
2. i’m so glad my friends and family accept me anyway.

check it out:

http://www.ahamoment.com/pg/moments/view/12718

welcome new fantasy-to-do-list-makers! you never know what will come of our little game.

perhaps secret agent mom will publish a book. maybe stacy and her husband will open that restaurant. lane just might play bass in a band! megan could be on her way to fluency in american sign language. hiking and camping in yosemite could be in katherine’s near future. kathi could begin to incorporate daily meditation into her life. jessa might soon be found “riding allovercreation” on her new bike with kid attachments. we might see lindsey’s name on a campaign sign in the next few years. reverendmother could perfect her signature dish when she’s not traveling far and wide. i’m hoping that melissa will open that candy store on south main. jaime and i can go there to celebrate when she gets her first hole-in-one! then, to burn off those extra candy calories, i can go with emmy to her first spin class.

it’s not too late to make your own list! see this post for details.

the p.r. firm that handles the “aha moment” campaign for omaha mutual found me on the web and contacted me a few days ago with the request that i tell the story of my blog’s inception and impact on my life. i think it’s safe to say that the internet is a crazy animal.

so today, i trecked on over to the parking lot of the rock and soul museum, boarded the 35-foot custom mobile studio, and talked on camera about my “aha moment,” which is defined on the campaign’s homepage as “a moment of clarity; a defining moment when you gain real wisdom — wisdom you can use to change your life.”

i’ll link to the monologue in a month or so when it goes up on the aha website but for now, i’ll leave you with a picture and a bit of wistful reverie. first the picture…

and now the wistful reverie:

oh to be young and hip and employed by an internet marketing firm to travel the country and talk to people about inspiration and wisdom! the folks i met from skedaddle media  made me want to amend my fantasy to do list to include something like “get paid to spend five months sampling the sights, sounds, cuisine, and culture in select american cities.”

for now, i guess i’ll have to settle for reading their blog.

my days are marked by endless shortcuts, tricks and concessions that are driven by creativity, necessity, and most of all, convenience.

for example, the monkey and bird receive morning doses of PBS and afternoon boosters of dora. they also take baths in the middle of the day, not because i am following the advice of the latest parenting guru but because i simply want to contain the kids while i fold laundry.

there are countless parenting philosophies calling out to us from every corner of pop culture, and many of them are wildly attractive. this is why, as a popular book title states it, “i was a really good mom before i had kids.” but things are different now that my life includes internet searches such as, “are holly berries poisonous?” it is not that i am parenting without convictions. i would describe my particular version of motherhood as a tapestry that includes the latest wisdom delivered by scientific and personal research. but this tapestry really is held together by what blogger Julie of a little pregnant calls “a series of reflexes, instincts, and minute-by-minute adjustments.”

my natural tendency is to apologize for the huge gap between today’s tidy expert parenting schemes and my own comedy of errors, which is often held together by love and duct tape. but the people i’ve encountered through this blog are proof that women’s greatest triumphs are rarely the result of textbook decisions made according to published plans.

mothers of invention from the blog's first month

the mothers who dazzle me with their love of life are always those who raise their children with a sort of makeshift flexibility, and who reinvent themselves in each season using this same, treasured skill.