tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15892513694571975682024-03-12T22:03:37.733-05:00mrs. fancy pantsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-56094159691700656152016-09-07T02:43:00.001-05:002016-09-07T02:58:54.214-05:00the one where I decide to do whole30<div style="text-align: left;">
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I am quite possibly the least likely human to willingly start Whole30. Held at gunpoint? Maybe. Otherwise it simply doesn’t make sense for me.<br />
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Let me give you a few reasons why.<br />
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Reason 1)I almost set my apartment building on fire this winter when I was making chili and left the ingredients boiling on high while I went to Target for an hour. I returned home to smoke alarms and other occupants evacuating. <br />
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Reason 2)This isn’t my first kitchen fire. I’m ashamed to say it’s not even my 5th or 6th. I’m an experienced oven arsonist.<br />
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Reason 3) Here’s some of my recent work with a pop tart.<br />
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As you can see, cooking isn’t in my skill set. Our pots and pans are a hodgepodge of misfits. We purchased our current frying pan at Sam’s Club while we were waiting on a new set of tires. I think I have two of my mother in law’s clear pyrex dishes she sent home with us full of delicious food. You know that southern tradition- never return an empty dish? Yeah… (Sorry, Emmy!)<br />
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The rest are twelve year old wedding gifts so crusty from over a decade of mishaps and explosions that it’s a wonder we still use them. In fact, I was recently trying to brown ground turkey and realized the meat was full of metal. The metallic surface of the pan literally disintegrated and filled our meat with shrapnel. More alarming is that my first thought was, “Am I going to have to cook something else? Surely metal can’t make you that sick, right??”<br />
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I am a second generation don’t-cook-er. My mom didn’t/doesn’t cook and I have proudly carried on the family tradition. So how did someone with my culinary resume decide to begin Whole30? Two things. I’d become desperate, and I’d also recently befriended a chef.<br />
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When I say I’d become desperate, I’m speaking to both my physical and mental health. Before starting Whole30 I was exhausted 24 hours a day. When awake, I was complaining about fatigue. If I was asleep, it wasn’t without tossing and turning and bouts of insomnia. (If you’re even tired when you’re sleeping, there’s a problem.) Also my Diet Coke “situation” was rapidly progressing.(translation-I was taking in anywhere from 30-70 ounces of Diet Coke a day. A DAY!!) I was consistently anxious and was back to battling moderate to severe depression.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1B88ADXDu6sQ0XAUqumLET3eXLDl5jFznpW6TwpvAOMhaYd-5Tb1AnmtHOY13KcQAhdVqqepPDXHNlDgWqab-VGjZ29kd5FkSWQqbrk5zSIQ0-JufF3bR1OO-0uMvtvpZE2E8Vz-Q80Ma/s1600/Whole30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1B88ADXDu6sQ0XAUqumLET3eXLDl5jFznpW6TwpvAOMhaYd-5Tb1AnmtHOY13KcQAhdVqqepPDXHNlDgWqab-VGjZ29kd5FkSWQqbrk5zSIQ0-JufF3bR1OO-0uMvtvpZE2E8Vz-Q80Ma/s320/Whole30.jpg" width="320" /></a>But the main reason I agreed to this seemingly nonsensical regimen is from a phrase I read on the Whole30 cookbook. The byline reads “The 30 Day Guide to Total Health and Food Freedom.” Food freedom. Those two words rolled around and around in my head, appealing yet utterly elusive. I haven’t had lasting freedom from (or with!) food since I was in early high school. I’ve had moments, even seasons of freedom, but I always fall back into a cycle of chaos. Or rigidity. Or one of the other many disordered habits I’ve developed along the way.<br />
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And to be honest, God has been talking to me about my food issues for some time now. This past year, I’ve lost count of how many times he’s dropped Whole30 in my path. One thing I’ve learned about God and his nature is that he never forces something on you. He will invite you in to a work he wants to do, but until you decide to say yes, he simply waits. So we began this dance where he would move in and ask if I was ready for healing with food issues. Then I’d practically shove my fingers in my years and begin to yell “na na na na na na” which translated as “NO WAY!” and I’d white knuckle my way through a few more weeks of restriction and then over indulgence and ultimately shame and self loathing. He'd ask again, I'd refuse. And on and on. However, in the past two months, every time I’d go to him with a question about depression or pain in my body, all I would hear back was “Are you ready for freedom?” In my experience, when God gets to a place that he responds to multiple questions with the same answer… it’s time to take him seriously.<br />
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So when Kristen (my chef friend) texted me one afternoon, “You and I are going to do Whole30 together. We start Tuesday, so get ready!”, I said yes. Truthfully, I’d secretly been wanting to do it for months and months, but didn’t think I could possibly pull it off. In fact, I’d already read the book and purchased the cook book. Unfortunately I know what to do with a cook book about as much as I know how to wield a ninja star. Kristen assured me that I’d be just fine and she’d hold my hand along the way. “But will you cook <i>for</i> me?” I worried. She just smiled and shook her head in a “you can DO this” sort of way.<br />
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I’m going to try and use the next few posts to keep you posted on my journey. I’m pretty sure this goes without saying but I have ZERO medical training (aside from several summers binging on Dr. Phil reruns in college) so you shouldn’t take this as sound medical advice. It’s simply my personal experience. I’d love to hear if/how this resonates with you and your story! Thanks for being here. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Whole30-30-Day-Guide-Health-Freedom/dp/0544609719" target="_blank">Here's the book I mention above!</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">photo credit livehappy dot com</span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 26px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 986px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 26px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 986px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-38366699097930754012016-05-16T20:27:00.000-05:002016-05-16T21:42:24.071-05:00sparrow<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica; line-height: normal;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I’ve just recently come out of a funk.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">If you’ve ever struggled with anxiety or depression, you’ll know what I mean by this.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">My friend Robyn calls it my “black cave of darkness”.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">She says watching me go in there is the hardest part of being friends with me (EDIT: I called and read this to Robyn tonight when I finished and she wants to go on record as saying “I never said it was HARD to be friends with you!”) But it is. I know it is. It’s because when I’m there, I don’t realize it.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I don’t know I’ve retreated again.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">My brain has some sort of cave-amnesia until something happens and suddenly I jolt awake thinking, “Where am I? Why is it so dark in here?</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">What’s going on and where is my phone charger? OMG am I in a CAVE? OHHHH…. I did it again.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Crap.” I know this about myself.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">I know the cave is there.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">But, somehow, every time I journey into the nothingness, I’m surprised. I reemerge and CAN NOT believe I’ve been back in the cave again.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">And I’ve been wanting to talk about the cave.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Because I know I’m not the only one.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">And I’ve been praying, asking God to give me a picture of what it looks like when depression hits and what does He have to say about it all?</span><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">I was walking through an antique store this morning and ventured down the stairs to a lower level with double doors leading to a patio. I heard the birds as soon as I reached the steps, but I didn’t see them until I rounded the corner. There was a scuffle, a flutter of wings and I saw two birds fly away. And then there, amidst a dozen or so vintage glasses, I saw a tiny sparrow struggling to get free. Somehow she’d fallen down the long, narrow channel of the tumbler and was straining to fly out. As I looked at her, I saw myself so many times before. Panicked. Struggling. Unable to fly. But surrounded by my flock.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLh4vPhKTwiMtdlGz5grc99YclLA7TVHZiCnWyZX5qHMnARW97vHV6lad4hOPh2BxetyD4WUzzlEBUyw-VPcCEHlKZf7_C4dZ4Bf3npdXP1PQDWEUfRGTk1hbfdOG7B2SxRGmVRdMKnkGR/s1600/IMG_2175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLh4vPhKTwiMtdlGz5grc99YclLA7TVHZiCnWyZX5qHMnARW97vHV6lad4hOPh2BxetyD4WUzzlEBUyw-VPcCEHlKZf7_C4dZ4Bf3npdXP1PQDWEUfRGTk1hbfdOG7B2SxRGmVRdMKnkGR/s320/IMG_2175.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">I was so amazed at the other birds. One stayed on the table, inches from her reach. Two others hopped frantically on a shelf below and the rest flitted around the rafters of the musty basement. All of them were chirping. Each time she’d attempt to escape, she would become very very still, trying to muster up the energy she’d need for the fight. And then she’d cry out in effort and fear and ultimately frustration, powerless to escape. Yet, her flock looked on. And the harder she struggled, the louder they became, shrieking and squawking and cheering her on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Once I realized that she wouldn’t be able to get free on her own accord, I stepped in. I picked up the glass and ever so slightly tipped it to the right, shifting gravity, tilting her tiny body. It didn’t take much at all, maybe an inch. That’s all she needed. She shot out of the glass, her wings flapping awkwardly, and landed with a thud on the ground below.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Maybe that’s you today. Maybe you’re in the tribe. Maybe it’s your friend or sister or mom stuck down in that glass. Maybe you feel helpless watching them fight, wondering your role. Listen to me, dear one. You have a big job. God Himself sings over us. Zephaniah 3:17 says <i>“The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”</i> </span>It is holy work, the staying and the singing. You may not be the one to tip the glass for her this time, but oh, how she needs you to stay. Just stay with her. And you can trust God to do his job. To send a glass-tipper when it’s time.</div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Or maybe<i> </i>you’re the sparrow stuck in the glass. Maybe you’ve given up on fighting. You see the open air above you, but you just can't seem to get out. And you’re tired. So very tired. </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">You don’t have to do this alone. Your tribe will not leave you. Can’t you hear them? They are calling out to you. While writing this, I was reminded of the verse in Matthew that says, <i>“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows</i>.<i>”</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">Don’t you give up… Help is on the way. Someone is coming to tip your glass, to shift the things you cannot control and help you find your way. I know it feels like you're here to stay, at the bottom of this smelly old glass. But you aren't. I promise.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">She limped a bit at first, visibly tired and hindered by her time in confinement.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Her flock whooshed in though, flanking all sides, their tinny victory cries bouncing off the dusty glassware around us.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Then all of a sudden in one effortless motion, she shot into the air. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><i>She remembered she could fly. </i></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">And I watched, as one by one, the other birds fell into formation behind her, and they all flew out the open doors into the dewy morning air.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-27784198854590195652016-03-10T11:41:00.001-06:002016-03-10T11:41:15.923-06:00take up your whole mat<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I’ve recently started back to yoga. And, yes, I am fully aware that any time I write about an athletic adventure, I am in the process of “starting back”. That’s because I’m very talented at the quitting of the working out and not so skilled at the sticking to the working out. Whatever. Stop judging me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Anyway, yoga is the hardest physical endeavor I’ve ever participated in. Why? Because in addition to moving and breathing (at the same time!!!) I also have to wrangle my brain. And, I know you’re not inside to see the landscape, but let me just tell you… it’s a jungle in there!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">I’m not an athletic person by nature. Shocking, right? I “played” volleyball in high school and the only recognition I ever received was “most improved” my freshman year. Which, is interesting because I didn’t play my freshman year. I had switched school systems and had to sit out a year before becoming eligible. I practiced with the team, though and managed to hit people in the back of the head with the ball, rotate in the wrong direction and trip the setter on the regular. I think they felt sorry for me and gave me the award when I learned how to get the ball over the net every once in a while.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">My first day back to yoga was in the beginning of January. January 2nd to be exact. We’ve joined a fancy new gym that has it’s own studio and along with seventy two other New Year’s resolutioners, I grabbed a mat and found a place on the floor. It was so crowded in that room. At one point, a limber, 40-something year old wearing the complete Lulu Lemon spring collection propped her leg on my shoulder to get a deeper stretch. To my right was a gaggle of teenage girls. I am not kidding you when I say they can wrap their arms around their feet two times. Which, to be honest, they have an incredibly unfair advantage. When you are only 14 years out of the uterus, you are still partially folded. Talk to me in another twenty years, ladies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Anyway, my first class back was a disaster. I couldn’t clear my mind and I definitely couldn’t hold my downward dog. I can't even touch my toes for crying out loud! I would focus on breathing and forget to pose. So I’d focus on the pose and realize I was holding my breath. Hot mess. I met up with a teacher a few days later in hopes of some guidance. She walked me through a few vinyasas (This is fancy yoga lingo for sequences.) and undoubtedly was fighting off hysterical laughter. But, what she told me resonated so strongly with my heart that I just have to tell you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">She said, “One thing you really need to work on is taking up your whole mat. Many women try and stay small and compact in yoga, but you’ve got an entire mat… take up every inch of your space.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;">You guys! I just can’t believe how true that is. I see this so much in my own life and those around me. As women we try to be as small as we can, learning from childhood that tiny is attractive and acceptable. We try and whittle our physical bodies down often hurting ourselves and hurting the younger generations watching. We try and lessen large personalities in hopes of fitting in. “Be little, be quiet, don’t make waves” we’re told from pulpits and media and society at large. But it’s a LIE! No one ever achieved greatness by hiding. True joy can’t be found if you’re focused on shrinking. Plant your feet wide and fling your arms up towards the sky. You’ve been given one beautiful life! Breathe it in deeply taking up EVERY INCH OF YOUR SPACE! Live big and wild and free! Oh, and if you see me in a yoga class, you should keep your distance. I’m still a danger to those around me. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-36390746043021913112015-12-09T22:16:00.000-06:002015-12-10T00:35:40.695-06:00Santa BabyI really wanted a Christmas pregnancy announcement. I can still remember that first Christmas so vividly. The year Matt and I started trying to get pregnant, Facebook was still shiny and new and mostly authentic. For the past few years I’d watched friends and sorority sisters announce pregnancy in outrageous and beautiful ways, but for me, I just wanted Christmas. Early Christmas morning I’d give Matt a gift surprising him with our news and we’d spend the rest of the day glowing and telling our family and friends. In coordinating Christmas sweaters. It would be magical. Years later we’d watch the video footage and tell our babies the story as a Christmas tradition. (Can you tell I watched a few Hallmark movies growing up? Ok, a lot.) I was so fascinated with this idea that when we didn’t get pregnant in September or October, I sort of laughed to myself thinking “What an awesome inconvenience! This is going to be perfect!” Those were the days that I still thought just deciding you wanted a baby and trying were enough.<br />
<br />
I remember parking in the garden section of Walmart, heart pounding at the thought of someone seeing me. I walked through the Christmas section and picked up a “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament- first blue, then pink, then blue again. Maybe I’d wrap one of those and watch Matt laugh and then cry upon realizing our news- he was going to be a DAD! A section of novelty gifts caught my eye and I wandered over gasping when I saw a fat white coffee mug that said “World’s Best Dad”. Giggling, I stashed it under my purse in my buggy and laughed again when the cashier winked knowingly at me. I also purchased two slim white frames to put our ultrasound in and give to each set of grandparents-to-be. <br />
<br />
Although not “officially” pregnant yet, we’d already been trying for three months and most of my friends had taken around that long. It was only a matter of days until I took another test and surely it would be positive. Except it wasn’t. I think I held on to that mug for three more Christmases, (36 more months that ended in "no")smashing it in the driveway one particularly hard December day. My neighbor pretended not to see me crying as she helped me pick up pieces of cheap shattered clay.<br />
<br />
The holidays are in full swing and if you are waiting for a baby(or your second, or fifth!) it can be an excruciating time. Although my family is certainly growing, it’s eight Christmases later and I never got my announcement. I DID, however, get a little experience at this whole gig so I thought I’d put together a list that might be helpful to you this year.<br />
<br />
<i>How to navigate an infertile Christmas:</i><br />
1)<b>Be honest</b>- I know that ideally you would NEVER have to talk about “trying” around your grandfather and his famous Christmas ham (because that means PawPaw knows you’re having s-e-x) but this is not a time to fake it till you make it. If you are a while into the trenches of infertility, you may want to think about telling your family at least in part what you’re going through. Chances are, they have been through this before (or dearly love someone who has). If they haven’t, they are still your family and they love you. They are much more likely to respect whatever amount of privacy you want if they have an idea of what’s going on. And at least the slew of insensitive questions will stop (or slow). You’re never going to make it through forced small talk and seven rounds of Dirty Santa while Aunt Lucy bubbles through her eggnog “WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE ME A NIECE OR A NEPHEW??” <br />
<br />
<br />
Which leads me to #2…<br />
<br />
<br />
2)<b>Have a script</b>- Decide with your husband how much you want to share this year and come up with a few concise but relevant statements that will not only inform your eggnog laden crew but help them realize you need some time before you discuss it further. <br />
<br />
<br />
“I want you to know, but I’d rather not talk about it right now.”<br />
<br />
<br />
“We have actually been trying for a while now. Maybe after the holidays we can catch up.”<br />
<br />
<br />
“Whenever we have news, I’ll be sure and share it with you!”<br />
<br />
<br />
“I’m going to punch you if you ask me one more thing about babies!” (just kidding)<br />
<br />
<br />
You could also call (read:TEXT) ahead of time and fill in your family/friends. That will help take the spotlight off of you and minimize awkward conversations.<br />
<br />
3)<b>Don’t go</b>- Take the pressure off yourself to attend every party and event that comes your way this season. Sometimes it’s just too hard and THAT’S OK. Give yourself permission to decide what you can do this year and what is too much. You don’t owe anyone an explanation and a simple “I can’t make it this year” is perfectly acceptable. Besides, when you roll in with your TWINS next year, they'll never remember your absence.<br />
<br />
4)<b>Don’t lose heart!</b>- When you’re surrounded with the world’s greatest pregnancy story (of a VIRGIN who WASN’T EVEN TRYING), a holiday centered on children, and hundreds of Christmas cards of all your people’s beautiful families, it can be tempting to be overwhelmed with sadness. Don’t give into that. You won’t always feel this way- I promise! And you aren't alone...if you want to talk, shoot me a message. I can promise you I understand.<br />
<div>
Remember that the same God that sent Jesus to the world is also your “Father in Heaven” who will “give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Mt 7:11) He is the one that put the desire in your heart to become a mama, so you can rest assured that one way or another He will fulfill it. Stay positive and find joy in this season every way you can. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-45834207619084813932015-06-24T22:51:00.000-05:002015-06-25T00:04:50.109-05:00when "not racist" is not enough<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">Today in the state of Alabama confederate flags
were removed from government property at the order of the governor. And then the Internet went berserk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">“I am not racist, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">BUT</b>…” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">I read this phrase over and over and over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">BUT</b>
this is my heritage! You can’t take history away!”</span></div>
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">
“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">BUT</b> you can’t strip away my rights!”</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">“</span><b style="color: #333333;">BUT</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">
this is the SOUTH!”</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">You began posting mini history lessons about the origin of
the flag and that it was never <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">intended</i>
to be a symbol of racism and it wasn’t <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">created</i>
for evil, and I hear you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">“I’m not racist,” you say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I believe you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">But “not racist” isn’t enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus never called us to be “not racist”, you guys.<span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span>He called us to be LOVE.<span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span>And Love is so much more.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Love is
patient and kind;<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">Love does not envy or boast;<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">it is not arrogant or rude. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">It does not insist on its own way;<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">It is not irritable or resentful;<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">It does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">Love never ends.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;">(<span style="font-size: x-small;">1 Corinthians 13 from The Message Translation</span>)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">“Not racist” nods at the wrongs that were done
but puts emphasis on "harmless" tradition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Not racist” demands personal rights and freedoms remain at all costs. "Not racist" insists that things stay the same.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">But Love. Love chooses to sacrifice those
entitlements to protect others. “Not racist” is mostly concerned with self, but Love
says, “You matter more than me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Love says, “PEOPLE matter more than a flag, or a tradition or ANY OTHER
FACTOR added to the equation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
if giving up my right to fly a flag will remind you of that Love…. It’s worth
it. YOU are worth it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;">So, to my friends and peers and neighbors and
family and the litany of others raging on social forums because of this “loss”…
I ask you this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is “not-racist”
enough for you?<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>We were never called
to be just enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were called
for so much more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">We can change the world, you guys. But we have to start with Love.</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-86506847247123973872015-04-21T07:39:00.003-05:002015-04-21T14:44:14.945-05:00on eating. and then not.<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
decided to become anorexic while riding the bus one morning in the spring of
sixth grade. I hadn’t heard that
word before and wasn’t sure what the requirements were, but all of the glamorous
eighth grade girls sitting in the back were talking about becoming it, too.
They said they needed to get bikini-ready. Maybe I could convince my mom to <i>let me</i> wear a bikini if I was “ready”. Every day I’d look back at those girls in awe, longing to be
like them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">No
one looked at me in awe during my sixth grade year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or my seventh or eighth for that matter. I was a lanky kid
with a disproportionate body. I had freckles (But not the cute kind), a tangled
mass of frizzy hair, and a huge gap in my really huge teeth. (But not the intriguing
kind models have. More the, “oh somebody get that girl some orthodontia!” kind.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
was determined to get a new look. Even though I didn’t really understand the
concept of dieting, the glitterati had leaked a secret and I WANTED IN! No one
was allowed to sit in the back except the beautiful people of the eighth grade,
so I settled a few rows up straining to hear the rules.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I overheard, “never eat lunch” and “drink a lot of…” and a few
other chopped up phrases I couldn’t make out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Never
eat lunch” was all I had to go with. That was my plan and I began with great
gusto.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unfortunately
for my “new look”, it was tater-tot-Thursday in the lunchroom so I fell off the wagon less than
five hours after I began. And I never thought about a diet again for the
next ten years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">_________________________<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A
friend asked me earlier this week, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What
was it like when you had an eating disorder</i>?” And so I’ve been thinking
really hard about how to answer that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
don’t really like the word<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> disorder</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to say I had some eating<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> "confusion".</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not as if I went to bed healthy
and woke up sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would have
been <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">super </i>helpful if a runny nose or
unbearable toe pain had accompanied my condition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might have thought to call someone about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it wasn’t like that at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was quiet and slow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So much so that I wasn’t sure anything
was wrong… until it was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I confused
the fact that food kept me alive with the idea that food was my enemy. I forgot
that eating was an every day thing. And three times? It felt like overkill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
ate to make myself feel better and I starved to make myself feel nothing and I
couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> But I knew I didn't want to leave.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It
was terrifying and intoxicating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
was confused when people would say, “You are too thin! You should eat!” and I
thought perhaps people were playing a trick on me. Clearly this was a plot to
make me fat. I could see myself in the mirror- couldn’t they??<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I
am really worried about you.” My friends talked in serious, hushed tones, and
Matt always had sad eyes when he looked at me. Before long, everyone was trying
to help but no one was helpful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You
see, I was so confused that I didn’t think I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">needed</i> help. What I needed was to stay in control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought
I was happy and headed towards healthy. (After I lost a few more pounds…) I
forgot that my size didn’t make me worthy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p> </o:p>The
other day I came across a quote I love.
Albert Camus says,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Don't walk in front of me; I may not
follow. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Just walk beside me and be my friend.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">That. That is a picture of how I began to heal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">All of the people in front looked back at me offering milkshakes
and disappointment and judgment. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was afraid they were right about me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And so I was angry with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">And those who were behind me? They’d fallen back, deciding I
wouldn’t change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In their minds, I
could get better if I wanted. That scared me too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">But there were a handful of friends, steady and constant. They
didn’t tell me what to do; they didn’t give up on me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And finally, when confusion gave way to reality, I felt safe
enough to whisper a “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">help”. </i>They
heard me and came rushing in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">You guys, if this is you, you aren’t alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re just a little confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When you are ready (You already are.
Trust me.) Look to your left and your right. See who is there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are your people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> It doesn't matter if you are confused about eating or marriage or faith or even fashion. (Because, priorities!) Be brave and l</span>et them love you into wholeness. Into who you were created to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">My entourage stayed the course in the difficult months
ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Day after day they loved me
and did all the wonderful things. They were terribly clingy with their overly
healthy selves and I hoped they’d find someone new to help, but THEY WOULD NOT BE MOVED. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">They reminded me that Jesus thinks I’m worthy, and that is enough. They did this one million times a day in case I forgot again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I still get confused sometimes. But my people are always right there, keeping an eye on me. I am telling you, one misstep and THE
SAINTS COME MARCHING IN! I can’t
get rid of them. It’s better this
way, though. For me, I need friends beside
me to help me remember the truth.</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-70263693087866183682015-04-05T21:10:00.001-05:002015-04-21T07:50:27.800-05:00hunt or be hunted<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black;">You guys know how much I love Jesus, so obviously when our
neighborhood hosted an Easter egg hunt last weekend, I had a religious
obligation to take Mills.</span><span style="color: black;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;">It's important to note that I have a great
appreciation for healthy competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I know a prize is at stake, I am OVERCOME by a primal urge to win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve triggered such chaos in a Dirty
Santa party (or two) that friendships have ended. (all because I stole a stupid travel kit and licked the toothbrush inside to secure my win). Once, I made a girl cry
during a game of Catch Phrase with our church group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, everyone knows you don’t mix religion and game
night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And also, she was the worst
Catch Phraser in the history of ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She wasn’t even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">trying</i>. So,
that one wasn’t really my fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Saturday morning my neighbor texted to ask if we were going
to the Easter egg hunt at the park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Immediately my heart rate elevated because I DIDN’T KNOW the hunt was
that morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t had a
chance to mentally prepare or come up with a game plan. I’d yet to do the first
practice run or egg finding drill with Mills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">It was one of the first beautiful days of spring and Matt thought
we would walk to the park and enjoy the sunshine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought this was a terrible idea because Mills would
clearly lag behind and slow us down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(have you tried walking with a toddler lately?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did not appreciate that observation
or my proposal to take the car (because SPEED! And PARKING!), so I shoved Mills
in a stroller instructing him to keep his feet from dragging the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I instructed Matt to refrain from
commentary about Mills being a foot too tall for the stroller.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">With T-minus 60 minutes to go, we rolled down the driveway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matt seemed to be struggling with math
as he repeatedly reminded me that we were only a five minute walk away and advised me to calm down. Agitated,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I explained the need to factor in time
for inclement weather, foot traffic and other various possible delays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t even hit a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">brisk</i> mall-walking pace before Matt
suggested I was running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
suggested that he keep up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">We were almost to the park and hadn’t seen any of the competition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeling nervous, I Googled the hunt to double-check
the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much to my horror, a
flier appeared stating the hunt was taking place AT THE PARK ACROSS TOWN. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Bedlam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">It’s a little fuzzy at this point, but I remember running
back towards the house in a panic, screaming at my family to hurry up so we
could “GET THERE AND HAVE SOME FREAKING FUN!!!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">I’ll spare you the details of the car ride over except to
mention Matt’s threats to take my phone away if I didn’t stop checking the time
and yelling at traffic. And also setting a terrible example for our son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Meanwhile, I was facing the back seat chanting,
“Get those eggs! Get those eggs! Push! Shove! HIT! Just, GET THOSE EGGS!" in
hopes of raising Mills’ adrenaline so he would be game-time ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">There is a chance I jumped out of the car before we had come
to a complete stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“KEEP UP!” I
howled over my shoulder and began jogging towards the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">The set-up was tricky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The grass was sectioned off into four different squares surrounded by
caution tape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each square was
labeled with a different age group and had one million eggs smashed inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Although the competition wasn’t particularly impressive, the
crowd was thick and the odds were stacked against us. I pushed my way to the
front of the “zero to three” zone and anxiously looked for the guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matt was just strolling along (SLOWER
THAN A SLUG) and I screamed, “HURRY! THEY ARE STARTING IN LESS THAN SIXTY
SECONDS.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This didn’t go over
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, my timing was a little
off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">While Matt pretended not to know me and introduced Mills to kids all around (=the FRAY!) I
came up with several strategies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My cheeks were on fire and I could hear my heart beat throbbing in my ears as a
teenager held up a megaphone to make some announcements.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said, “The sparkly eggs have prizes,
please make sure your child doesn’t get more than one.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frantically, I began to point Mills in
the direction of the closest sparkly egg and explain the importance of getting
that one first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Allegedly I was
“yelling” and “making other families uncomfortable” at this point. Mills began
to whine and ask me to hold him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was not “scaring him” as SOMEONE implied. Clearly he, too, has the primal
competitive drive but doesn’t quite know how to channel it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">The next few minutes are a blur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard the whistle and flung myself towards the grass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of my periphery I noticed I seemed
to be the only person out of diapers heading towards the glittering prize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slowed to check again and, as it
turns out, all of the other parents were still outside the perimeter! I swiveled
back scanning the crowd for Matt and Mills. In that instant, all the other
parents swarmed the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I (gently)
shoved a few kids out of my path trying to get a visual on the prize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A GRANDMA was scooping it up in her hot
little hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I angled towards my
back up option only to see a fat baby shoving it in her slobbery mouth. A quick scan of the space confirmed that all the other eggs were long gone, prize or not. Just like that, it was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">Angry and defeated, I wandered around
looking for the guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found them
happily sitting in the grass celebrating a measly few finds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">“What happened back there?? You totally dropped the ball!” I
looked to Matt for some answers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">“I mean, I didn’t know other parents were going to help. I
think you should relax a little, Amanda. The prizes aren't even a big deal. This is just so the kids can have some fun!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Relax? FUN?? This is ridiculous! There was nothing fun about being obliterated back there and walking away empty handed. I HATE EASTER EGG HUNTS!” I
stomped off towards our car while Matt kept his distance and again pretended not to know me. He told me I should "take a nap and get control of myself" before the afternoon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">My behavior there has come under investigation and I’ve been placed on probation for any upcoming games (or social gatherings) until further review.</span><span style="background-color: white;"> Matt said if I don't learn how to handle my crazy, there will be consequences.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">The take away here? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">1)Take my own car next time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">2)Easter Egg hunts are from the DEVIL!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-38656102422323569182015-04-01T19:12:00.000-05:002015-04-21T07:57:42.541-05:00your other mother<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">Jody Landers
said, "A child born to another woman calls me Mom. The magnitude of
that tragedy and the depth of that privilege is not lost on me.” I think
of her every day, your other mother. But on these days, the big ones, it
consumes me.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Three years ago
today, on this very moment, I held you in my arms. Finally. </span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">Last night we
were with her. The two of us sat side by side and watched our sons, both of
whom she carried. It felt messy and tangly, but mostly it felt like home. Even
in the midst of it, I knew this was a moment I'd remember always. </span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">I asked her
(like I always do) “Are you sad? Do you wish things were different?” </span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">And she
sighed and smiled at me (like she always does) and said, “I’m not sad.
I’ve never been sad. I’m so content.” </span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">But when I
began to try and say thank you, this time she stopped me. “Don’t thank me
anymore,” her eyes were looking far beyond me, beyond the moment. “That
is the best decision I’ve ever made.”</span><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">Oh, my
darling boy... May you always know how loved you are. And that, to me, she is
the strongest, most beautiful woman I know. </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-81331029150690029812015-03-23T10:27:00.000-05:002016-03-24T17:47:41.212-05:00what's for dinner?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was group texting with Clair and Lolly this morning when
one of them asked for some new dinner ideas for the week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently, they forgot I was on the
text.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t cook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, when I say this to people, they
are always, “Oh my gosh, me neither!” and I temporarily don’t feel so
alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then I’m at their house
on a random Tuesday and they are “just whipping up” some seared ahi tuna with a
beautiful remoulade served alongside caramelized shallots and candied beets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Liars.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you know how you can tell if someone cooks?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They recklessly use phrases like, “just
pop in some (blah blah)” and “oh, just toss it over (whatever)” and “I just
throw together whatever I have on hand.” They say this as if perhaps an infant could crawl up on the
counter and cook if only they had the fine-motor skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, most of what they “whip up”
includes foreign-to-me ingredients like roasted kale and pine nuts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What does that even MEAN? Many times,
friends have tried to convince me that cooking is SOO simple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That I probably already have everything
I need in my fridge/pantry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
know what that means?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My family
would be eating three bread and butter pickles over expired hummus paired with
last week’s pizza sautéed in vanilla coffee creamer. Canned fruit cocktail for dessert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beverage choices are whole milk, juice boxes or half and half.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My mom didn’t cook either, so maybe it’s genetic like blue
eyes or heart disease. When we got married, I was determined to learn and begin life as the domestic goddess I knew I had hidden inside. I was a wife. Wives cook.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>For a
wedding gift, someone gave us the expensive crock pot we registered for along
with a book called “135 Fail Proof Amazing Slow Cooker Recipes.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of the recipes allowed you to cook
the main dish AND a side all in the same fancy pot! (bonus: our high-end crock pot came
with a tiny matching one, so I could even make desserts!!) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each night when Matt came home to
some new, beautiful, steaming feast, I hardly ate I was so impressed with
myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I noticed his appetite
seemed to be dwindling as the weeks went on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he was secretly on a diet because he was planning to
surprise me with a tropical getaway?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Finally one night after I plated my newest creation, he just sighed and
gulped down some murky homemade tea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(I couldn’t quite figure our <i>Deluxe Mr. Coffee Instant Iced Tea Maker</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also a wedding gift.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Assuming it was a rhetorical question I asked, “Does
everything taste alright?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His
cheeks got red.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Little beads of
sweat appeared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what a hot,
home cooked meal will do to a guy.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Well, I just. I don’t know. It’s fine. No, it’s GOOD! I
can’t believe how well you cook!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But. Is there a certain ingredient you've been using in every recipe?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No. We had cream cheese chicken alfredo Monday and bacon
ranch ribs yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously
not.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“But what about the barbecue sauce?” You know how I always
mention Matt’s shifty nervous-y eyes when things are about to potentially go
wrong?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“BARBEQUE SAUCE?” I was incredulous but not sure why yet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not
that. I love barbecue sauce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
why are you using it every day?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
I wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, like a mature WIFE
(because I was a grown-up-married-person now), I dramatically threw my
monogrammed napkin (another wedding gift) onto our “every day” China and ran to our
bedroom slamming the door behind me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After waiting about four minutes, Matt tapped on our
door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s FINE!” I wailed, my
head under our new Pottery Barn
pillow shams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I KNEW you hated
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I KNEW I COULDN’T COOK!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He sat down on the bed beside me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Babe, no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
figured it out. It’s just the crock-pot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Really! There is something wrong with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every single thing you cook tastes like the exact same sour
barbecue sauce. (boy, does he have a way with words!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it isn’t you, it's the crock pot that's terrible.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">You guys… this man is a saint! And also, a liar.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I pitched my beautiful, chrome, 4-automatic-settings
crock-pot in the apartment dumpster on my way to work the next day. And I never
looked back.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But, I am a MOM now. Mills licked the chocolate off of a protein bar for breakfast this morning. So, while Clair and Lolly swapped delicious sophisticated-sounding recipes, I furiously took notes. It's never too late to learn, right?</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-90189273614322063802015-03-19T10:42:00.000-05:002015-04-21T07:51:30.290-05:00so you adopted because you couldn't get pregnant?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A lot of people ask me, “So, did you guys adopt because you
couldn’t get pregnant?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
that’s the most common conclusion in terms of adoption. (at least with
people who don’t have biological children.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And while certain aspects of our adoption and infertility
story do overlap, one was not a direct result of the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My story of infertility and Mills’
story are two very different things and it is important to me that they stay
separate from one another.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We started trying to get pregnant seven years ago. (or ONE
HUNDRED because it feels exactly the same) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was so clueless and naïve that I actually CALLED my
doctor’s office:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Hi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wanted to let you know that my husband and I are HAVING
A BABY.”<br />
<br />
“When did you test positive?” The nurse wasn’t the friendliest, but I had
AMAZING news, so I was sure she’d come around.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Oh, haha! We aren’t
pregnant yet, but we are GOING to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We decided to have a baby and I took that ovulation test AND got a
smiley face AND we, well, you KNOW, so….” I’m pretty sure I was giggling. Also,
I talk in extreme run on sentences when I’m excited.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">(total silence) And
then, “Honey, what is it you are calling about?”<br />
<br />
I felt a little sorry for her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Didn’t she know
anything?? “BECAUSE we are going to have a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(???) Don’t you want to put it on my chart? Or have me come
in or something?”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And then
laughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That woman laughed at
me. “Why don’t you call me back when you get a positive pregnancy test.” (more
laughing)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was crushed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now, I look back and feel so sad for me… but I laugh
too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not know ONE SINGLE
THING about all this.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Fast forward through four years of trying and waiting and
crying and testing and SO.MANY.”NO”s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">No, you aren’t pregnant this month. No, we don’t know what
is wrong. No, insurance doesn’t cover that. Nope, still not pregnant. No, no,
no no…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And the week before my 30<sup>th</sup> birthday, I was the
one who said no.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matt and I were
sitting outside watching the sunset and I said, “Ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t want to look back at our life and say, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘those were the miserable years</i>.’<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>So, no more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If the
children in our lives are simply those in the families around us that will be
enough. I will be okay.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for
the first time, I meant it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It wasn’t one month later that my high school guidance
counselor called and said, “Amanda, I was sitting in my front room reading my
Bible and God told me to call you.” (When someone says God told them to call,
you LISTEN!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went on to tell
me that her daughter had just adopted from an agency who needed birth parents
willing to adopt outside their race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I listened and thanked her and that was all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here is what you need to know about adoption and me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Throughout the years of trying I heard</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<i>Oh! You should adopt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know EVERYONE
gets pregnant when they adopt.</i>” And also, “<i>God must not want you to have
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You should adopt! It’s
the right thing to do.</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (To me, the "right thing to do" meant driving the speed limit, flossing, <a href="http://iammrsfancypants.blogspot.com/2015/03/confession-from-auntie-litter-parade.html" target="_blank">recycling</a>?) </span>Again and
again, this was spoken over me until I began to hate the word adoption and
everything about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed like
second best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A consolation
prize.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I made a vow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sitting on Lolly’s floor crying
and said these very words,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I will never buy a
baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I WILL NEVER adopt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God would have to literally drop a baby
out of the sky and say ‘this one is yours!!’ for me to adopt.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(I still cringe remembering those hurtful words)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
You know what they say about never saying never?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I could tell you the specifics about what happened
next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there isn’t a logical
explanation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It simply seemed that
God came rushing in, softened my hardened heart and changed Matt’s all at
once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were riding in the car
one day not long after my counselor called and Matt said, “Are we really going to say ‘no’ to
children because they don’t come the way we thought they would?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And after a tornado of miracles and suddenly “YES”es, (this
is a whole other story), suddenly my son was in my arms.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is what I can tell you now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t adopt because we couldn’t get pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We couldn’t get pregnant because our
first born son was to come to our family through adoption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now that he is home, we know without a doubt that even
before the world began, Mills was ours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that, God graciously allowed enough time to pass so we would open
our hearts and walk into the plan that had always been. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was always the plan. The first choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And because of it, I have actually come
to treasure my years of infertility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Isn’t it ironic? Infertility made me a mother. Not because<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ran out of options, but because all
along it was the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only</i> option.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-56697082208434765592015-03-17T16:19:00.000-05:002015-04-21T07:51:48.770-05:00a letter to myself on the eve of infertility<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Amanda,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tomorrow your life will change forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I could protect you from
everything you are about to experience, but in the strangest way, this will be
the best thing that has ever happened to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gitHgcQFXTATv0jdwdpeHg2W44Lfj8rEHLYArSfjXJOvCL3dvXcKcZCCn8pPTpGLhW9D257jSr_AE8ZZ-eH0ghB7_F0PmgZXbG9LUMkL2u_n8fWRPPYNkztM7cBHLMooEECOxV3xXfGP/s1600/IMG_2557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gitHgcQFXTATv0jdwdpeHg2W44Lfj8rEHLYArSfjXJOvCL3dvXcKcZCCn8pPTpGLhW9D257jSr_AE8ZZ-eH0ghB7_F0PmgZXbG9LUMkL2u_n8fWRPPYNkztM7cBHLMooEECOxV3xXfGP/s1600/IMG_2557.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></span></a><o:p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">First thing’s first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Everything you think
you know about getting pregnant? False.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Your science classes, great aunts and MTV’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Teen Mom</i> have failed you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lies…all lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you yet what DOES work,
but I can give you a <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>few things
that don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Take them off your list:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-“Just relax.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-“Take a vacation!! “</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-“Stop trying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everyone gets pregnant when they stop trying.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-“Adopt.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-“Lose weight/gain weight.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">-“Give up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is a sign that you aren’t meant to have children.” (heads up- the ones who say
this one are nuts! Walk away.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The people around you
do not mean to be idiots.</b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Truly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will hear some
of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">worst</i> advice imaginable in
these next few years… but it’s only because no one knows what to do with you.
You will hear the story of Abraham and Sarah on the regular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will yell and say terrible things
about that particular story in the Bible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Chances are, you won’t be 147 when you get pregnant, so try and let that
one go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although you can’t see it now, your friends and family are
hurting with you. Learn how to be gracious early on and save yourself one
million tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And also- stop
asking people what you should do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Their ideas are terrible. Ask your doctor, talk to Matt… but step away
from the masses.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The amount of weight and gray hair that comes with this process is a shock. So, learn that you are beautiful. It's important.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You don’t actually
have a needle phobia.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The nurses don’t like wimps, so fake it til you make it.
Before long they’ll know your name, and your best vein.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your days of whining and passing out
over a blood draw are long gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In time, you’ll be giving yourself shots in the stomach and losing half
of your blood supply at every appointment without thinking twice. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh! You <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will</i> lose
your mind, yell at a nurse on the phone and file a complaint about her to
“HR”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You aren’t going to win her
back over, so let that one go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
don’t be “that girl” for long.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The nurses are YOUR PEOPLE!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Treat them well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If they ever seem cold or unfriendly, it’s not about you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have an unbelievably stressful
job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women are crazy to begin
with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women pumped full of
hormones trying to get pregnant? Psychotic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These ladies see incredible pregnancy miracles, but they
also walk families through inconceivable loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just be sincere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You’ve got a long road ahead, and some of these women will become
friends for years to come.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Something about
marriage<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sooner than you think, you and Matt will begin to feel like
a science experiment gone wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You will fight and cry and question every single thing…you
will say terrible things and doubt each other and think this is one big mistake…you almost won’t
make it through…but hold on to each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This thing can break you if you let it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(but it doesn’t. trust me.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t hide.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Soon, most of your friends will become pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The majority of them started trying
long after you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will watch
them have their first, second and even third children as you wait.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wait well. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Answer your phone, agree to a pedicure, or just let them come
sit with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Infertility
sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying to do it by
yourself is impossible. You have incredible people in your life. They can TAKE THIS! Learn to let them love you through the ugly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You are going to mess
up. </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Drop perfectionism quickly because you cannot IMAGINE the
ways you’ll act.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will be rude,
insensitive, and distant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ll
miss important baby showers and christenings and birthday parties and do all
the things you said you’d never do. It’s okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grief is a monster and in time you’ll learn to separate your
own sorrow from others’ joy. Forgive yourself, ask forgiveness and do better
next time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hope.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hear me say this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You did NOT do anything wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You are not being punished. God has not forgotten you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t compare your story to those
around you, because you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do </i>have a
story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It reads like sci-fi horror
right now, but it won’t always.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Never give up, Amanda. Never.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will announce that you don’t want kids after all, you will
stop “trying”, but always hold a space in your heart for hope.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Pain is devastating and beautiful. And it makes people
terribly uncomfortable. This <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">thing</i> you
have is holy ground. Treat it that way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Don’t let anyone in unless you are certain they can be trusted with your
grief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But soon you’ll see others
stumbling around with your very same wound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take them in, share what you know… it eases the heartache.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I could close this letter with, AND THEN YOU GET
PREGNANT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t know what happens at the end of our story, but I
know you are stronger than you’ve ever imagined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that your story will help so many other women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I know that this is all worth it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Amanda</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-74192092188187491152015-03-16T16:03:00.005-05:002015-04-21T07:52:02.397-05:00when I remember we are different<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When Mills first came home, I was extra sensitive about how
people perceived our family. Immediately upon walking into a store or
restaurant, I would scan the eyes of every patron trying to determine their reaction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually, I
realized that they were staring mostly because I was a random woman hovering and
glaring at them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Creepy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmy-YtB19twRqqS8Y9UYmrp49c6e-m4xfiMNeYkk7Etg3cQacBSKHKdk2cogBLcJ0gmsBB0aGrOn1Yj9426bxbZC2gsBeSRHj3DFRMk4rXGP8EcHFFG6a6WSw21ZYf2aLLLyMQOCHES9O/s1600/hands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmy-YtB19twRqqS8Y9UYmrp49c6e-m4xfiMNeYkk7Etg3cQacBSKHKdk2cogBLcJ0gmsBB0aGrOn1Yj9426bxbZC2gsBeSRHj3DFRMk4rXGP8EcHFFG6a6WSw21ZYf2aLLLyMQOCHES9O/s1600/hands.jpg" height="260" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I never wanted anyone to give us
more/less attention because we are a transracial family and had a hard time adjusting early on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But over the years, I feel like I have become
exactly opposite of that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
most adoptive families would agree after some amount of time, you actually
forget your child is adopted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
the most literal sense. For instance, it never fails to surprise me when others giggle as I reflect on how Mills looks so much more like me than Matt. Sometimes when he reaches for my hand, I am shocked to see that our skin doesn't match.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am not a hover-er or a panic-er when we are in
public.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have my bag of crazy in
terms of mothering, but I’ve always given Mills space and freedom to move and
explore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(But, if you expose my
child to one single television show apart from my “approved list”, I will have
a mental breakdown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t you know
that one episode of Sponge Bob Square Pants could change the trajectory of my child's life??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See? Crazy.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today was one of the first beautiful days since winter
happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And because winter
“happens” to me in the worst of ways, we have been cooped up, in our pajamas,
losing our mind for months. In celebration of Spring and warmth and not-winter,
I kept Mills home and we went to the zoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a playground he likes with tunnels and bridges and spots only
tiny people can go, so I can’t see him as clearly as other playgrounds we
visit.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Recently inspired (guilted) to put my phone away and just experience
the moment, I watched as his little striped shirt came in and out of visibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His war-cry can been heard even amongst
a bazillion kids because, he.is.so.loud, so I could hear him constantly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Suddenly, I realized I hadn’t seen him in an unusual amount
of time so I left my spot and waded through six hundred toddlers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I didn’t find him, I
went back to my seat knowing that he’d surface sooner or later with demands of
fruit snacks and milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(so gross)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Several more minutes passed and I still hadn’t seen
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this point, my brain
kicked into over drive and made up for every relaxed moment I’ve had as a
mom. This was really happening and I had no idea what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blood rushed to my face and I
couldn’t hear anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frantically,
I started yelling his name and running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t know where I ran, I just felt like I needed to be moving
quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next few moments were the scariest of motherhood so far.
As adrenaline surged, I had the thought that someone could have
taken my son and left the zoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
darted into a café a few hundred feet from the playground and several people
started pointing to the front saying “there! He’s over there!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently the “I can’t find my child
and I’m about to lose it” look is a universal one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My little man was quietly standing with a walkie-talkie-clad
zoo worker. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He's just fine. I was about to
put out a call for you,” she said with the kindest blue eyes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I threw myself towards him, I thanked
her and focused on not vomiting. "Where was he? Where WAS he?" I held my baby and started shaking all over.An elderly woman appeared in front of my face and said angrily, “You
lost him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t have parents
around so I had to make sure he was safe. SHE took care of him." She pointed to the zoo worker. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And in that moment, I remembered that we are different. Also, I almost punched some one's Mee-Maw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am certain this lady had the best of
intentions, but she took my child off of a playground because she didn’t see
any adults who shared his skin color.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am feeling so many things as I write this, but mostly, I’m
sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sad that Mills won’t live
a life where family seems simple and uncomplicated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sad that someone can make a judgement about us by the
way that we look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sad that
even when we forget we aren’t like everyone else, the world remembers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, even though my heart has forgotten I didn’t physically
carry my son, my mind is heavy today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What will his tomorrows look like?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Birthday parties, sports, MIDDLE SCHOOL???<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will he understand that his presence in our family is a
literal miracle? Can he grasp that he was not “unwanted”, but doubly loved by
his birth mother and me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These are the hard moments in adoption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I don’t have the answers and I am
engulfed in fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I have to
put it aside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have to ask God to
remind me one hundred times a day that He has always known Mills was ours, and
He will care for us in all of our tomorrows.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am currently researching children’s “leashes”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I find one that says “birth to age
seventeen”, I’m ordering it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So,
don’t judge me when you see my son tethered to me for the next fourteen
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t help it.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-82313110955995653412015-03-10T08:24:00.001-05:002015-04-21T07:52:12.886-05:00confession from an "auntie litter" parade drop out<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Recently, Matt began a recycling initiative in our
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This falls under the
category of “things I cannot handle”, but apparently recycling is a passion of
his and so, whatever… we’ll do it YOUR way!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been reprimanded many times since we came under the
new law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems that my idea of
recyclable goods does not meet his standards.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I heard the familiar crunch of container on cement as he
hauled the can up our driveway tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mr. Eco-friendly came thudding into the kitchen and glared at me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“You are BANNED from the recycling bin, Amanda.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may not put anything in it, or even TOUCH IT ANYMORE!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">First of all, I really thought he was going to say “BANNED
from s-h-o-p-p-i-n-g”, so I was instantly relieved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And also? I hate recycling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, I
don’t like to be told I can’t do something, so I pressed in.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“What? I’ve been following all your ridiculous sorting
policies! Seriously!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“An ENTIRE CANDLE does not go in the recycling bin!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shocked, I began to laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Are you KIDDING ME? Do you know how
many things you can make with melted wax?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Clearly you have never done any sort of craft, ever.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Neither have the people at the recycling plant, babe.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There were other violations cited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not to be missed- food, unwanted clothing and
Styrofoam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So…..I don’t know WHAT kind of system you people have in
place… but I see some serious room for improvement.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-73904418657366899792015-03-09T19:46:00.002-05:002015-04-21T07:52:29.277-05:00a life lesson<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When Mills and I got home from school today, we snuggled up and
started our naptime routine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, he
just seemed off. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I read a
list that was something like “Questions to ask your kid so they learn how to
communicate otherwise they will grow up to be a big-fat-jerk and fail at life.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m pretty sure this was on that list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Did something make you feel sad
today?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His face burned red and his eyes filled with tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(Who knew?? These lists actually work!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I pushed Emily today.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“You did what??”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I launched into the third degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Obviously he’d committed AT LEAST a Class C misdemeanor and I needed to
take ACTION.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was prepared to dole out allllll the life wisdom and set
him straight. (or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you’d
better believe we won’t have people think we house a push-er under this roof.) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then I looked back down at my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He smelled like grass and cheese indicating he is a big boy,
but his cheeks were all puffed out and that reminded me he is just a BABY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I went with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrapped my arms around him and
squished him up to my face and began to tell him that he is so loved. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talked about how we all make mistakes
and the best we can do is try better next time. Enormous tears rolled down his
beautiful face and I reminded him he is a good friend and a caring boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He picked his head up and said, “I not,
Mama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No I not.” And then he dropped that sweet head down in shame.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In that moment, a few things happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My heart shattered in a billion pieces and I could not take
a deep breath because everything was all tight and squeezy inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should be feeding him a bottle right
now, not talking about real-live STUFF.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wanted to personally track down Emily and push her EVEN HARDER for
making my child feel this way. (you know, because he pushed her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>#rational)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And, I got a glimpse of how God may feel about His
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So...I spent the last 3/4ths of my life thinking God was this stern angry-ish executive-type and generally unconcerned with me until I screwed up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I DID blow it, I pictured His
blazing eyes burning down from above as he face palmed and said to the heavenly
hosts, “Yall! Seriously?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This girl
is a train wreck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please remove
her from my line of vision.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Until today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Today, when my child cried over hurting someone else, I felt love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so proud of him for telling me his story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was overwhelmed with sadness in the
wake of his pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And also, I
wanted nothing more than to help him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And if I, with every single flaw and limitation known to
man, responded that way… well, I may have this whole, angry-stern-God thing
completely wrong.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mills asked to paint Emily a picture tonight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched him swirl the colors around
and move out from under the burden of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it was beautiful.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-23199398939189534372015-03-08T20:18:00.001-05:002015-04-21T07:52:41.473-05:00express checkout <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am in the middle of writing a blog post on infertility and
I just remembered the most hilarious story…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">During the first few years of our marriage, people often
said, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">So, do you have any kids</i>?” in
small talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No</i>,” I would
always reply. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Not yet</i>.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some of them, feeling especially brave or bored would follow
up with, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why??</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Most often, I’d shrug my shoulders and mumble some benign
response to appease them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We want to wait a while, travel, save
money…. Blah blah blah</i>!) But sometimes they would catch me right in the
middle of a fertility treatment, hopped up on hormones and coffee, and I just
couldn’t any more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Because I CAN’T</i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">!”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I said that three word sentence time after time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then one day…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">One day I was checking out at the grocery store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geneva scanned my People magazine,
chocolate and six pack of Diet Coke, and began the dreaded dialogue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After I answered, her hand paused over
the register.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Well honey</i>?” she tilted her head and
thought a moment longer, looking puzzled. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Are you sure
you’re doing it right</i>?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
stared at her, my mouth hanging open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You know… “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">doing</b>” it right.</i>” she emphasized while shaking her hips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(And just trust me on this one, Geneva’s
hips DO NOT LIE!) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I learned something from Geneva, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, avoid her aisle at ALL
costs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But also, unsolicited
advice is a dangerous thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
given recklessly, it becomes a weapon. (or, at best, a terrible sight someone can never unsee. ever) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I try and refrain whenever I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think most people are probably
already the expert on their situation by the time I enter the conversation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And also? I wish I could tell you she was the only one to
say this to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, if you are saying this to random
women you<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>meet in the grocery
store… STOP IT! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Carry on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-68907096378397045742015-01-14T14:57:00.001-06:002015-04-21T07:52:56.479-05:00Some girls have it all<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: inherit; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Me watching the Bachelor </span><br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Ugh! I mean these girls are gorgeous, but don't you think he'd want someone with half a brain??"</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Matt</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Well, either way it would be awesome to fly over the Grand Canyon like that."</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Me</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Wait- they're in the Grand Canyon?? How do you know?"</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Matt</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Blank stare. </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I'm just glad I got a girl with </span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">beauty AND brains, babe."</span></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-55650183439655217192015-01-02T14:19:00.002-06:002015-04-21T07:53:22.344-05:00grocery run<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I made a massive grocery run the other day and was feeling super domestic-ish. When Matt came home, I wanted to let him know what all we had. After guiding him through an extensive tour of the refrigerator, freezer and pantry, I noticed that he was standing in the middle of the kitchen blinking too much.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Are you going somewhere?” He was sort of squirming and looking around with darty eyes. “I mean, are you sick? Are you leaving? Leaving US?? Oh my gosh, what’s wrong? Are you leaving?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This, people, is my husband’s response when I show up with groceries. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And this is the exact reason I am winning mother and wife-hood! I win.</span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-40521523365859361242014-12-19T16:02:00.002-06:002015-04-21T07:53:35.786-05:00Gray Matters<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This week, rumors of an impending local protest have
restarted the barely paused conversations of the Ferguson trial and all that
surrounds it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hash tags came back
in full force pitting #alllivesmatter against #blacklivesmatter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As arguments brewed on news forums and
social media, I sat on my bed and in an instant,watched socially correct fall away and hate
arise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I desperately want
our city to be a changed place and our society <span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">racially friendly</span>, when issues like this surface the facades fall away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am certainly someone who feels ALL the feelings… and it is
a temptation to jump on a side of an argument and FIGHT! In my earlier years,
I’d be willing to go on a warpath, leaving bodies in my wake strictly to make a
point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, now I have a different
lens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My family isn’t “white” anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we aren’t “black” either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
been given a gift of entering sacred ground where I can see a bit of both
sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Not just from a racial stand point, but in all areas of my life.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And I’ve learned that it’s in the gray where things change.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In life, there are times where we feel so passionate about
an issue, that we would do anything to see change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve
been there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And although my
friends and family didn’t necessarily understand or even agree with the issue,
they loved <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">me</b> and therefore supported
my cause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s sort of like when your boyfriend played a sport in high
school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You didn’t give a rip
about soccer or sports or all the athletic-y stuff, but that boy had your
heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, you never missed a
game.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Were you a soccer fan?
No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were a boyfriend fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m learning we
can either support issues or people. Some issues may never change while we are
here on earth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But people… our
PEOPLE are all we have. We belong to each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, if someone I love needs to take a stand for something<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t understand? That’s ok. I will stand
too. Maybe I don't even agree with them. That's ok too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because I know that some day
soon it will be my turn, and when I look back, I’ll need them behind me saying "I'm with her. Her voice matters." I'll need them to believe in me, in spite of their beliefs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I learned a new word this week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s called the Mandorla.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> an ancient symbol of two circles coming together, overlapping one
another to form an almond shape in the middle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It symbolizes the interactions of opposing worlds and forces.
To step into the Mandorla is to move beyond "either-or" thinking -
even beyond ideas of common ground or compromise - and stand in the tension of
opposites long enough for something new to emerge. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I just keep thinking about what a difference we could make if we were
brave enough to step away from our “side” and towards the middle. What if we let go of a stand, and held on to our neighbor? Even when it didn't make sense?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if we let down our guard,
surrendered our right to be “right” and boldly waited in the middle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't think we'd be alone for long. I'll bet we’d look
across and see others slowly walking toward us….entering the middle circle, willing to
believe in change. Willing to believe in gray.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-85050778672477136742014-12-10T19:43:00.000-06:002014-12-10T21:05:18.217-06:00my kid doesn't have to be good for santa<br />
I was finishing up therapy the other day and went to check out. Ok, fine. I was at Target. But, I’m pretty sure even my therapist would tell you this is a recommended course of treatment when used correctly.<br />
<br />
Mills was with me, and the lady helping us said to him, “Santa is WATCHING YOU, you know… you’d better be a GOOD BOY! Mama, is he being GOOD?”<br />
<br />
I started sweating. For the first time, my child- my baby- was being launched into to the <i>goodenough</i> gauntlet.<br />
<br />
“Well of course he is! But what a ridiculous question!” I sputtered. “He is Mills! And he has been exactly who he is supposed to be every day of his life! You should really stop leaning over the children and asking them the scary things!”<br />
<br />
Both Mills and Miss Target were giving me the “you’re so crazy” face, so I wheeled out and shoved all of us into my car.<br />
<br />
What are we doing? Far sooner than we’d like to admit, our children pick up the monologue some may never be able to shake…<br />
-am I good?<br />
-am I good <i>enough</i>?<br />
-do I deserve goodness in my life?<br />
-do I deserve punishment?<br />
-do I measure up?<br />
-AM I ENOUGH?<br />
-... and on and on and on. If you are anything like me, I am still trying to untangle all those thoughts and put some better ones in my brain.<br />
<br />
Am I going to speak an identity over my child of good vs bad that may be a temporary fix for behavior but could lead to lasting shame? Am I going to lead him to believe that God, also, is watching and judging him… making a list and holding record of his wrongs? AND let random Target ladies in on the torture? NO WAY. <br />
<br />
I looked back at my little wide-eyed-feisty-headstrong-loving-rowdy-rough and tumble-sensitive-spirited-beautiful boy and said this:<br />
<br />
“Mills,<br />
Your Papa and I are so proud of you. Today, right now, after you threw your cookie at me and tried to spit in my diet coke, I love you more than I ever have. I want you to grow up and be kind and brave and responsible and all the things. But I want you to know above it all, YOU ARE ENOUGH! Right there in your car seat, you are enough. In the trenches of your middle school years, you are enough. In the highs and the lows, your behavior will never merit our acceptance of you. We are delighted in you. Ok?”<br />
<br />
He got really still and nodded. And then he threw the rest of his cookie at me. <br />
<br />
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<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
So many times I need Matt to remind me that I AM ENOUGH too!<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>author's note: mamas... you know that my heart is YOU! the above statement reflects me alone. if you <b>need</b> santa to get you through the holidays, you better believe I will dress up like the angry elf MYSELF and come get those babies in line for you! it's all about making it through the day. we are in this together!</i></span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-21516705808780161472014-11-17T15:44:00.000-06:002014-11-18T20:43:21.443-06:00what i learned from my two year old today<br />
Every Monday morning I’m in a state of shock. I’m shocked that I have to wake up. Shocked that I have to get out of bed. I’m offended that I have to function at any hour that doesn’t end in<i> pm</i> and it’s alarming that I am expected to take care of another human. Since Matt continues to deny my requests to stay home and help me, I’m forced to stumble around and figure everything out on my own. <br />
<br />
Today was cold and rainy and I woke up feverish and that was extra shocking for me. Mabel tracked mud on my new white rug and that was especially offensive to me. Mills and I had a rough go at it right from the start. He was “fixing my hair” with strawberry jelly while I was “pretending” to take a nap. He kept switching out his Elmo phone for my iphone and hiding mine in the refrigerator. <br />
<br />
While trying to get ready, he simply would not accept that he couldn’t brush his teeth with syrup. Exasperated I said, “Ugh, Mills! Just because!” <br />
<br />
And then. He looked at me with those enormous liquidy brown eyes and said, “Can you just be patient at me, Mama?” <br />
<br />
Oh.<br />
<br />
“Can you just be patient at me?”<br />
<br />
How many times do I want to say that to people in my life? Can you just be patient at me when I forget to cook dinner? All week? Can you just be patient at me when I don’t call you back over and over and over? When I cut you off in traffic because “Shake it Off” comes on and I start dancing? When I slip back into my old unhealthy habits and it’s really hard to love me? When I isolate for so long that it seems like I’ve abandoned you? When I forget to remember that God is good? Maybe you can just be patient at me. <br />
<br />
Today I’m being patient at people. And tonight we are brushing our teeth with syrup. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-2564343728099242242014-11-04T16:57:00.001-06:002015-03-27T22:53:08.411-05:00train up a child<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Dear Matt,</span><br />
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
When we decided that Mills wouldn't watch TV until he turned two... We knew EVERYTHING about being parents, didn't we?? And, boy! Having a toddler that wouldn't watch a television show in the dead of winter (because he'd never been exposed to one) was so awesome, wasn't it?</div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
I wouldn't change anything, except the not watching TV part. And I'm glad that you're now introducing him to "the classics" or whatever it is you're calling this list you've compiled. </div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
BUT, if I have to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang one more time, you and I are going to have a problem. It may not be rotting his brain, but it is rotting <i>mine</i>! I couldn't worship at church on Sunday because the tune and lyrics of "TOOT SWEETS" are burned so deeply into my soul. </div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
Let's move on to another classic. My turn. I pick Scandal. </div>
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<br /></div>
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xoxo,<br />
Amanda</div>
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<br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-36357249893661176972014-10-22T17:28:00.003-05:002014-10-23T08:12:41.037-05:00airing my dirty laundryI know I’ve been away from blogging for a while. It’s because I’ve been REALLY busy having it all together. That’s just the way I do life. I’m calm, I’m organized, I never let our clothes mildew in the washer. I certainly don't let my child eat string cheese for three days in a row before I realize the pack is rotten. In a word, I’m “together”.<br />
<br />
This summer we switched Mills to a new school. I’m not going to lie. It’s fancy. When I went to pre-school, they scattered a bag of stale animal crackers on a table, turned on Care Bears, locked us all in a room, and it was kill or be killed. Toddlerhood is all about survival.<br />
<br />
You can imagine our shock when, after touring Mills’ new school, we learned that he would be participating in yoga, science classes from a local museum, and eating meals prepared by a nutritionist. Let’s be honest, as much as this looks exactly like our life at home (except not at all)… I had some concerns that Mills might run <i>away</i> from home. To his new school.<br />
<br />
Part of my “together”-ness includes waking up before dawn every day, cooking a hot breakfast from scratch and (especially this!!!) getting completely ready for the day care drop off. Hair, make-up, heels… the whole nine.<br />
<br />
Just a few weeks after we’d switched to the new school, I had an off morning. In 7 minutes' time, I was able to wake up the baby, feed him a pop tart (Which clearly just appeared in my pantry! Only organic non-processed food for us.), make his sippy cup of milk, shove him into something not-pajamas, pack his bag, find his shoes and herd him in the general direction of the front door. That left 45 seconds for me. I grabbed some dirty yoga pants from my bathroom floor, threw on a sweatshirt over my tank top, pulled on my obligatory huge sunglasses and we made a run for it! (It almost sounds like I’m really good at this. Like I do it every day or something.)<br />
<br />
I wasn’t exactly sure about the carpool protocol so I got out, walked around to Mills and carried him to the enormous full-window front of his school. I smiled and nodded at other moms on my way out, hoping they'd notice my friendly self rather than my disheveled state. As I headed home, I made a mental note to never have an “off” day again. The mamas at this school were of the "beautiful people" variety, and I had embarrassed myself a bit.<br />
<br />
Once home, I called my friend Betty in Chicago. It wasn’t until I plopped down on my couch and propped up my leg that I noticed an awkward bulge. <br />
<br />
“Oh no. Oh, please no. Nononononono NOOOOOOO!” I moaned.<br />
"Ugh! What is the matter with you??” Betty sighed. I'd obviously woken her up.<br />
“I can’t even talk about it. I’ll send you a picture. Mills can’t go back to that school, though. EVER!”<br />
“Huh? I thought you loved that place??” She barely got her words out before I'd hung up on her.<br />
<br />
Lodged above the knee of my dirty yoga pants? A crumpled up pair of dirty underwear. <br />
<br />
I, quite literally, had on some <i>fancy pants</i>!<br />
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<span id="goog_1776876790"></span><span id="goog_1776876791"></span><br />
How did anyone keep a straight face that day?? Can you <i>imagine</i> how proud these people must be to have added us to their prestigious institution? It’s a wonder they haven’t offered to pay our tuition yet. Or better yet tried to <i>hire me</i> to work with these beautiful young minds. Me, and my together self. Stay tuned. It’s only a matter of time.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-21433310335179488632014-07-27T21:31:00.001-05:002014-07-27T23:05:43.728-05:00all choked up<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
This Sunday at church, we had a guest speaker
preaching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may not know much
about the south, but you know we live, breathe, die, and make idiots of
ourselves over college football.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This preacher is a LEGEND in the football world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A legend, people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are talking, works with national
champions, IS a national champion,
wears all the rings, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ALL OF THESE
THINGS, HERO! (I mean, if I knew sports, I feel I could articulate this
better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s famous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
really big deal.) AND, he brought all of his award-winning, sport playing, ring
wearing family members and their beautiful wives WITH HIM.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You get
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was so in awe of his message today and overcome by this
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They, like us, are an
interracial family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they have
generations among them and I was so drawn to the legacy they have created. We are just starting out. They have paved the way with strength and honor and grace. This is what we want to be
able to build for Mills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Towards
the end of the sermon, I went to the nursery to get him so the family could
pray with us at the end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mills is a flight risk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A “runner”, as we like to call him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, he hasn’t darkened the doors of
“big church”, nor will he until he is 17? Later? Hard to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On our way in, I grabbed a handful of
peppermints and began shoving them in his mouth in order to keep him quiet and
occupied until the end of the service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was sort of a beautiful moment to have all three of us sitting
together in church, on the front row (I'm that girl now!) for the first
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The preacher asked us to bow
our heads and began to do the altar call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I noticed that Mills was unusually still and began to smile
to myself thinking about what a spiritually sensitive child we obviously have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly, he was responding to the Holy
Spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I opened my eyes to nudge
Matt and alert him of our son’s holiness when I saw Mills clawing at his
neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I began to pat him on his
back and noticed his face was quickly turning blood red.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With people all over the floor at our
feet asking Jesus into their hearts, the famous athletes and beautiful people just
inches behind us, I suddenly began to scream, “he’s choking, he’s
choking!” All I could think was that I'd just killed my child with a breath freshener in order to beat other people to the front of the prayer line. Talk about a mom fail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matt started to do a
hybrid Heimlich/karate chop, the preacher kept praying, I kept screaming and
the peppermint popped out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sweet Lord.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When Mills was an infant, I was so overwhelmed I didn’t know
what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Matt would come home
from work (into a filthy house, with a crying baby AND wife), kiss me, swoop
the baby into his arms and say, “You did it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re both alive!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Great work today, Mama!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have maintained for the past two years that this is my
only goal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep.him.alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We had a close call, but today… I DID IT! I'm exhausted. </div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-19140369256192156052014-07-26T23:02:00.000-05:002014-07-28T11:00:55.564-05:00to the waiting ones<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear Mama who can’t get pregnant,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
(You became a Mama the moment you began to dream of that little one in your heart. That is where life actually begins...)<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I see you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
I want to tell you something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
know exactly how you feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
the unbearable pain you’ve carried for months, years even, waiting for your
baby. My very heart beats with yours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know what it is to weep on the cold tile of the bathroom
floor month after month; sobs wreaking havoc on your body until you vomit and
then mourn some more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I also
know about the numb feeling that slithers in after the pain is too much to
carry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>I have hated my body for forsaking me and not doing the one thing I felt women were created to biologically do. I have felt that I couldn't face another "tomorrow" more times than I'd like to admit. I have felt broken more than I've felt whole. </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve cried at baby showers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To the mom-to-be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In front of her mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While we were supposed to be praying for the baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I really know about avoiding
showers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And maybe tearing up
invitations and flushing them down the toilet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've stayed in bed at holidays and "been sick" for babies' birthday parties. I used to hide from my life which made me feel ashamed, which made me angry at myself, which started a downward spiral to the dark dark place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been afraid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Angry. Disappointed. Hopeless. Lifeless. Weak. Ashamed. Sick. Confused.
Belittled. Enraged. Exhausted. Embarrassed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Utterly, completely alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve watched every single friend of mine (even the infertile
ones) have a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then their
second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now they are on round
three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere along the way I
began to withdraw and life became very lonely and complicated for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is something I want to tell you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are not alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As long as I am here, understanding
you, we are in this together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
are not being punished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are
extravagantly loved by the creator of the Universe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if you don’t believe in Him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
are still loved and accepted just the way you are.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
The only thing you have to do is make it through
today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Me too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t have to figure out why, or
when, or what steps to take. Don't even THINK about tomorrow! What's tomorrow?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
just need to do today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of my
favorite parts of the Bible says, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll
find all your everyday human concerns will be met.</span></i><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> Give your entire attention to what God
is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen
tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the
time comes.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 10.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Let's hang on to this promise. </span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">Let’s just do today, friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Together.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><i>*Matthew 6:34</i></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01474875354189325708noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1589251369457197568.post-37724264340106947322014-07-24T21:55:00.000-05:002015-04-21T07:55:02.968-05:00swimming in the shallow end: toddlers at the pool<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_abZXXtFRHUyz1TSNDp-NLiIrwyA8ycNBh97QtxdRMECpcsJ92RV1-Cb8VIlubvaOLFSb6u_-rLOdNtLvbGYXBxdWsoHM5hbPZKs9J4KxBf5OkFdJQahCVoBhI9w6Q55zdI9dE_-6L1A_/s1600/millsswim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_abZXXtFRHUyz1TSNDp-NLiIrwyA8ycNBh97QtxdRMECpcsJ92RV1-Cb8VIlubvaOLFSb6u_-rLOdNtLvbGYXBxdWsoHM5hbPZKs9J4KxBf5OkFdJQahCVoBhI9w6Q55zdI9dE_-6L1A_/s1600/millsswim.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">As summer draws to a close (I MEAN! What even
happened??) I’ve gleaned a few bits of wisdom about taking a little person to
the pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have a toddler,
plan on having a toddler, or see a mom actually trying to drown herself in the
shallow end (she has a toddler) the following may be helpful…<span class="Apple-style-span">
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</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">adult swim</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">: You'll face your biggest resistance with this little trick the
lifeguards pull. I recommend pre-season training. Set your kid up
with a brand new toy until he is playing gleefully. At the height of joy
run up, blow a whistle in his face, rip him away and scream "ADULT
SWIM!!" Sit him a few feet away forcing him to look on while a few of your
neighbors roughhouse with the new toy. Repeat this daily, often and at random
intervals. That's the closest you'll get to conceptually explaining adult swim
to a 2 year old.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span">
</span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">swim diapers are inverse diapers</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">: If you are new to swim diapers, you may
find yourself thinking, “AMAZING! BRILLIANT! Why didn’t I think of these?” However,
there is a serious malfunction that still needs to be resolved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While these contraptions DO keep water
out of the diaper, they do NOT keep liquid IN.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, let’s say you are talking to, I don’t know, an old high
school crush at your neighborhood pool while holding a swim diapered
child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You may find yourself with
a warm stream running down your own leg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And that would be really, really awkward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A friend told me.</span><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">potty
fascination: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Most toddlers have entered the realm of “potty”
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While they may not be using
it, they WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT ALL THE LIVE LONG DAY.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also? Have you noticed how loud toddlers are?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m convinced the insides of those hot
little mouths are formed exactly like megaphones, because, wow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, in the event that you need to use
the restroom during your trip to the pool, prepare for ALL OF THE guests to be
fully informed of all the happenings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It goes a little something like this:<br />
<br />
“Mama go tee tee? Mama tee tee in the potty? Mama poo poo? Mama just go tee
tee? HOOOORAAAAYYYY Mama! Mama tee teed! Time for treat! Yayy Mama!!!!!
YAYYYYYYYY” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Just go ahead and check your shame at the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">discipline:</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> You will
find the need to institute your discipline policy throughout the summer when
your little angel acts out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Navigating
a screaming, puddle-jumper-ed, slippery, sunscreen-ed lunatic out of a body of
water to the closest lounge chair takes a little practice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I recommend pre-season training.
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">no
strings of any kind: </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">IF your current swimsuit has strings on it that are
functional in ANY WAY (read: are not backed up with clasps, brackets or
industrial steel) girl, don’t do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You will be climbed and clawed at in ways you cannot imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Standing in the shallow end with only
one triangle up is NOT the way you want things to play out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We aren’t in Panama City anymore, Toto.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">werk It:</span></b><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> Swim
with your babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know how hard it is to overcome body
issues ESPECIALLY at a public pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Personally, I’d rather face a firing squad across enemy lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’ll tell you this. I have paraded
myself ALL OVER our pool this summer and it’s been amazing! I remember my
family members that played in the pool with me, and the ones who wouldn’t think
about getting near the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Years from now, your child will not say, “Hey Mom, I really wish you had
been seven pounds lighter that summer I was two.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they will cherish the fact that you were present and
joyful with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Especially if
your bathing suit doesn’t fall off while all their friends are watching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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