How I Got Over My Airport Bathroom Breakdown & 2018 Hangover

“Keep your penis pointing down, Kyen,” I say for the third time. I’m squatting on the floor of the airport family bathroom face-to-face with my two-year-old with both hands on his naked knees to hold his newly potty-trained body steady.

“What’s this, Mom?” my four-year-old, Mav, asks. I look left to see what he has gotten into, praying it isn’t the tampon garbage or one of the many other gross things little boys can’t help but put their hands all over in public bathrooms.

“It’s a seat for babies,” I answer, relieved. “Mommies can strap their babies into it if they have to go potty and don’t have a stroller,” I explain, very familiar with the many options available to traveling parents.

I look back at Kyen just as his penis shoots up, spraying pee on my shirt, watch, and then pants as he empties his bladder and the stream slows down.

I jump up and back, startled. Tears begin flowing from my eyes carrying with them dark make-up that streaks my face, which I can’t help but see in the prominent mirror in the bathroom. I had put make-up on that morning, but I notice the tired bags hidden underneath my concealer, the extra wrinkles around my eyes, the despair in my expression. It makes me cry harder.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Mav asks, but I can’t answer yet. I can only cry. The release feels good amidst all else that feels so bad.

“What happened, Kyen?” he asks, running over to the toilet, wanting to be in the know and make everything alright.

“Sorry Mommy,” Kyen simply answers, with a sweet yet solemn face.

I want to explain. I want to hug them and tell them everything is OK. But in this moment, it doesn’t feel that way to me, and so I don’t.

Mav, not used to seeing me like this, starts crying too.

And then I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and get my shit together, like so many other times that I’ve had to do this as a mom, a wife, an executive, a business owner, a friend, a daughter. I wipe my tears then wipe Kyen’s butt, and the three of us, with humility, board the plane.

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This was January 1st, 2019. It was a critical moment that set the tone for my New Year. But before we go there, let me talk about what led to my breakdown in the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport bathroom.

2018 was an incredible year for me. I had a lot of fun and traveled tons – mostly for work and my business, but also to reconnect with family and friends, and honor the passing on of my uncle, Jerry.

2018 was also pure hustle. Although I said this last year, it came to be true again that 2018 was the hardest I had ever worked in my life. I rolled out major elements of my online coaching business, which required lots of learning, testing, tweaking, and growing. All this was done while staying committed to excellence and breaking personal-best records and goals in my full-time corporate job, and while holding my values of being a mom and wife close to my heart and top of mind.

I was pushing. I was moving fast. Every minute of every day was leveraged and calculated. I had a lot to get done, so each minute was strategized and scheduled. If I had 20 minutes between errands, I was at a Starbucks or in my car working. If I had an hour to have coffee with my husband or a night out dancing with my girlfriends, it was planned, so I could optimize every minute. I took pride in my efficiency and all that I was accomplishing.

I ended the year with December as my busiest month, working towards a deadline for my corporate job whenever I wasn’t taking the boys on a Christmas outing and completing my regular routine. Mornings spent at my computer would blur into lunch time, when I’d finally remember to brush my teeth and change out of my pajamas.

My husband’s busy time had kicked in at his job, so while Sundays used to be our one family day with both parents at home to share the partnership required to raise children, I found myself taking them on solo.

But it all worked out (or so I thought…) After celebrating an incredible finish to my work project and enjoying Christmas, I schlepped my two little guys to Minnesota to meet my new nephew and visit family. As fantastic as that trip was, the energy and patience required of me as the only parent present for two incredibly loud and active boys for seven days did me in.

And that’s where you found me bawling into my pee-covered shirt in an airport bathroom not wanting to see my sweet babies’ faces for at least 24 hours.

I don’t remember ever being like that before. It makes me think of a story I heard from Dr. Wayne Dyer recently. He said that when you squeeze an orange, what you get out of it is orange juice. I was being squeezed, and what I saw coming out of me was not pretty and not something I wanted to experience again.

Which is why I chose “ease” as my word for 2019.

A lot of the stress and pressure I felt in 2018 was the result of deadlines for my business and expectations that I had put on myself. If I am charge of my life and creating it to be whatever I want it to be, why had I chosen to build in so much self-inflicted difficulty?

Yes, I was having a blast and feeling accomplished, but the push-push-push forward had left me empty inside. Thank goodness I stayed committed to my daily meditation practice and regular workouts, or things would have been a lot worse.

2019 had begun but I was feeling a deep hangover from 2018. I recognized that I needed to bring myself back to center, back to ease, so I started by sleeping a lot, because I could feel that is what my body was craving. Mike got up with the boys in the mornings so I could sleep in. I took naps during my lunch break. My mind thought I should be burning some Christmas calories with an active run, but I practiced lots and lots of yoga instead (even Yin, the opposite of my regular Power Vinyasa classes).

About a week later I started to feel like myself again. I noticed that my patience with my curious little dudes had returned and replaced the screaming and yelling that had been normal in December (which I am not proud of).

I celebrated all that I accomplished in 2018 but I made a vow: Not again. No more push. No more control. No more fighting the flow of the Universe’s plans for me. No more self-inflicted anxiety. I had hustled, and sometimes hustle is due, but now it was done.

I choose ease. I choose peace. I choose flow.

In essence, this is who I am. This is what I teach. This is what I help my clients create in their own lives. Yet I had forgotten. Or perhaps, this was the lesson I was meant to experience so I could REMEMBER.

So what does ease look like for me in 2019?

I’m a natural workaholic because I’ve got the Midwest work ethic ingrained in me and I love my business and the work I do. This means I don’t need strict deadlines on my business. It’s a soul-driven act of service, really, so the more I stay aligned with my inner strength and intuition and follow what feels fun, the more success I have and the more I am guided.

And that’s really what ease means to me. It’s about letting myself be guided. It’s about fun couple with faith. “Faith is confident assurance concerning what we hope for, and conviction about things we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1)

As I move forward with ease and faith in my work, I can be in constant action, yet also detach from outcome and surrender to the Universe’s plan. As much as I want control, there is a power much greater than me leading the way – likely to something bigger and better than I can even imagine for myself.

That’s how my life has been and I am ready to be re-aligned with ease, faith, and flow. How about you?

What do you commit to going with the flow through, while also being in action, this year?

Where can you invite in more ease for your life?

Where can you give up control and give yourself a break?

Are you willing to be in action towards the life of your dreams, yet also in complete surrender to the Universe’s plan?

Can you see the beauty in faith and trusting?

I sure hope so. It’s going to be an incredible year!

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