Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

It's Important for you to Know

It's important for you to know I don't always hate myself.

It's important because it is the truth.

And "hate" is a big word, one which isn't truly accurate for how I feel day in and day out.  But for those of you who struggle with the person in the mirror on occasion, you know when the word "hate" is stirring and feel the brunt of it when it rears its ugly head.

Most days I don't even think about myself.  I love being a wife and mom and friend and neighbor.  All roles I enjoy and have even chosen.

But this morning a thought came to mind.  After processing it a bit with my husband, a friend, and just an hour ago with my counselor, I'll try my best to convey here.

Earlier this week I read this article.  Before you criticize the author, read it and then process it through the following filter:

My intention in attending a 4-year college was not to find a husband.  I mean, really, if you think about it...$20,000/year for private schooling = a really nice dowry after 4 years.  Instead, I got married with a heap load of debt.  I went to school with a desire to learn and grow and explore more of God's creativity, knowledge, and will for my life.  Originally I wanted to be a writer, but after being placed in remedial English my freshman year (WHO KNEW you could study for the SAT???!!!) and being challenged by my parents to choose a "real major," I decided to move forward in pre-med, because I at least knew I wanted to heal people.  (*Pretty sure my parents envisioned a beatnik writer in a smoky coffee shop with a beret handing out free copies of my work or a writer in a cabin in the woods, never publishing but living off her parents.  I think they forgot about journalists and columnists and you know, authors and writers.)

Photo by Ann Larie Valentine
If you've read here a while, you know I didn't make it through pre-med, seeing as how passing chemistry is necessary and all.  With a passion for international travel and culture and a love for God's love story for the world, I majored in Theology with a Missions emphasis and a minor in Spanish.  Upon graduation, my husband and I set off with hundreds of teenagers in tow to Venezuela to share God's love, and that was just the beginning.  (*This doesn't really have anything to do with what I'm talking about here...but you try tracing a thought in your head on paper.  It's tough stuff.)

Anyway, way back when my mom told me about reproduction, namely sex and baby delivery, I was cool never being a mom.  And FOR SURE not going through the delivery part.  Ewwww and OWWW!  Kids were fine and all if they belonged to someone else, but for me, it was six in one, half dozen in the other.  Then I met my husband and realized he would be one amazing dad.  And then I met our first child and fell in love.

I hung up the world of Student Development in the college setting, having only been surrounded by college aged women from the time I entered college plus 7 more years as a professional.  And I entered into daily one on one's with an infant girl.  One for whom I was souly (*I meant: soul) responsible, but really had nothing to give in return other than bodily excretions and some lovely sounds and snuggles.  All good, but not the reason I went to college.

Soooo, follow along here for a sec...a few years ago my mom and I were talking about indulgence and contentment specifically how I'll eat to escape.  We talked about how on vacation we are relaxed, enjoying feelings attached to new memories, rewarding experiences, and new pleasures, often times coupled with dining and trying exotic foods or yummy drinks or relaxing on warm beaches.  These are all good and great and obviously a luxury, but all reasons we long for and look forward to vacations, even short getaways. 

This morning it occurred to me, a person who loves authenticity and enjoys the art of writing, whether on paper or in my head, that even though I love being a wife and mom, those roles do not define me.  My friend even said her husband posed the question to her several years ago, "If I died or our children died, you wouldn't be my wife or their mother anymore...so who would YOU be, not what would you DO?"  He went on to say those are roles she may love, but they aren't necessarily her authentic true self, they are part of her but not her.

Are you even tracking with me?  I'm sorry if not...I'm trying here.

So, I can't speak for you, but I'll speak for myself.  I adore my children and am a really good mom.  I'm also a smoking hot, attentive wife who prays favor and blessings over my husband every day.  And during this season of life, which is now going on 11 years as a parent, 20 as a wife, I've put aside much of my own desires, passions, pursuits, and ways in which I am wired, to focus on the here and now, namely my family and their well-being.

I put all my coals in one fire.

Like the British mum who expressed her heart, this is not something I should have done.  Loving myself by keeping one iron in the fire would have kept God's deposits, His gifts, still kindling.  INSTEAD, like many SAHM's and Outside the Home Working Mums, I focused on just one thing and that one thing became THE thing.  And as a result, I have FILLED those places which were rich and fulfilling with temporary satisfaction, namely food.

And maybe you've filled it with an addiction to sassy coffee or keeping a perfectly clean house or volunteering extra hours at things which are good and worthwhile and important or shopping or redecorating and redecorating and redecorating your house or that third glass of wine?  Or maybe you've filled it with accomplishments at work and others opinions of you or checking things off a list or keeping up the image you portray to those around you, no matter how weary you really are?

These feelings we experience on vacation when we are able to escape from the day to day become feelings we want to experience in the day to day when the rubber hits the road and we feel overwhelmed...and especially as Americans, we think we deserve it.

Okay, never mind, I'll speak for myself...I think I deserve it.

I think because I did 7 loads of laundry, cleaned the house, got Em off to school and played trains and dinosaurs with Ryan for three hours and put a healthy dinner on the table, I deserve this or that reward...and truth be told, I crave the reward and instant gratification food or wine or, for sure, chocolate, delivers.

All the while, the reason these temporary indulgences have come up short is because as I dove head first into being a mom, specifically, I didn't leave an iron in the fire.  A writing iron, that is.  The very iron God designed in me as an outlet for creativity and in more recent years, for authenticity, ministry, and healing.

Which leads me to my Facebook post after counseling today:

"Here I go to counseling to talk about disordered eating and unhealthy expectations and body image, and we wind up talking about writing...because apparently when I write authentically, candidly, and with vulnerability, I'm being true to who God made me to be."  #stuffcounselorstellyouthatyouknowdeepdown #killingmonsters #findingfreedomtowritemyheartout

After counseling I had lunch with Jason, then headed to a beatnik coffee shop to write.

The girls next to me asked me what I do.

I told them I'm a writer.


Saturday, June 08, 2013

And 10 Things I Love About Me

So, last fall I was really humbled to be part of an intimate retreat weekend in Austin, Texas.  I relished in hearing the stories of the women I had never met, as well as cherished the opportunity to reconnect with the girls I knew from various times in my life.  To be honest, just be away from everything and have girl time was what the Doctor ordered.

I love girl time.  (Written language is inadequate a tool for me to convey how much I love time with girlfriends...)

Kristin Armstrong shared some of her own story during our weekend, with authenticity and vulnerability.  She's a fan of Brene Brown, queen of vulnerability, but not only that, she's a fan of girlfriends and especially a fan of when we as women come together and thrive in our uniqueness. 

I still carry many treasures from that weekend, but one I keep coming back to is how Kristin asked each of us to think for a while, to remember way back when, to our first memory of really feeling alive doing what we loved to do.  Like, "when you were a kid, what was your favorite thing to do?" type of question. 

And then, basically, what your first memory of your favorite thing was is how you were designed/wired/created...how God made you..."what you would thrive in being when you 'grow up'."

My memory of when I first felt alive was on the playground in elementary school.  I could picture it clear as day, and I could see myself, gathering girls.

Photo: www.katu.com "Portland Park Series"


I wanted everyone to belong.  My heart hurt when other girls felt left out.  I still remember the names of some of my classmates...the ones other kids made fun of for different clothes, different ticks, different skin color.

I felt most alive and the deepest joy when swinging on the monkey bars or climbing the Rocket Slide with all the girls.  It made my heart happy when we ALL played Chinese jump rope or Double Dutch, taking turns.  Even though only two could go at a time, I loved taking turns on Wall Ball, Tether Ball, and on the swings.

The 80's were good on the playground.  Photo: www.egotvonline.com


For me it wasn't hard to believe we could all just get along.  Even if we had disagreements, I knew deep down in my heart the playground was for everyone...Krissy, Swati, Kari S, all of us.

It wasn't just for the whoevertheheckdecideswhoispopular kids.

And so, even if some days I sit on my floor and cry because I'm stuck and not in love with myself, because of your encouragement and God's love for me, I woke up to this reminder this morning.

Here are 10 Things I Love About Me and I have even gone to my counseling appointment, wink, wink:
  1. I am a peacemaker.  "You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight.  That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family."
  2. I love to build bridges between women.
  3. I actually do love to play on the playground.
  4. I love listening to the stories of other women.
  5. I love to see a woman living in complete freedom...to me, it's one of the most beautiful sights to behold.  There's nothing she can't do...
  6. I love how much my heart is capable of loving my husband and kids.
  7. I love time with girlfriends.
  8. I'm really good at making soup from scratch.
  9. I love to sew and design and create clothes and jewelry and decor.
  10. I will always believe the best about you, because we all have a story...
*I won't lie, writing this list took me a lot longer than my "hate" list.

I challenge you, not just to do this exercise, but because it will encourage others, as well:  in the comments, write 10 Things You Love About Yourself.

Ready, go...

Friday, February 01, 2013

When Dreams Come True

Jason and I took Dave Ramsey's "Financial Peace University"class recently.  All I can say is literally every person should take this class at some point in their existence.  There would be no financial issues on this earth or in any government.  Just sayin'.

That being said, one of our cash envelopes is set aside each week for eating out.  I've enjoyed this because prior to Dave's class, we ate out a ton and our monthly budget seemed to be slipping through our fingers.  Plus, my thighs were bigger.

Now we stick with our "Eating Out" budget and it's like money has magically appeared in our bank account.  Crazy stuff.  I now believe in magic.

And I'm using my treadmill more and lifting weights, so that's likely why my thighs aren't as large.



White man overbite, November 2012
Anyway, I love our little "Eating Out" envelope.  Every once in a while when Ryan and I are out on the town running errands we'll stop for a lunch date at our favorite spot and use about $8.00 of our "Eating Out" budget.  A couple of months ago there was a sunny warm day and Ryan was a hungry little lion, so we headed over to our favorite spot, ordered, got our food, and found a cozy 2-top outside in the sunshine where we shared our plate of goodness.

It didn't occur to me then.  Nor had it occurred to me all the other times the two of us had shared a lunch date at this same little place...

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when the whole family was running errands.  It was my turn to choose our lunch spot.  We rotate who gets to choose where we are eating among Jason, Emily and myself.

I chose "Garbanzo's".

And as I spooned a mouthful of hummus into Ryan's sweet little lips, I realized a dream of mine had already come true.  And as we shared the last falafel, I knew it had...

He may not have dark hair yet.  And at 3 feet, he certainly doesn't tower over his mama, either.

But, I am so very grateful that unknowingly, Ryan and I found our favorite spot, and it's there where we laugh and cry, or whine, over falafels.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Back it up a little...

So, Em and Jason and I went in on Tuesday for our uber-ultra ultrasound. They check for all the important vital body parts.

Most parents look only for genitalia.

Obviously since we seem to produce children with more than just private parts, and since our lives have been radically changed over the past 4 years and since we have friends who have cried through ultrasounds showing them that certain vital parts were not growing in their sweet babies, we were looking for more than just genitalia...so was the ultrasound technician. I asked:

"Is that a kidney? Are there 2? Ureters? Do they empty to the bladder? How many chambers in the heart? A spleen? How about a liver? How about its brain? Eyes? Its jaw? Does it have a jaw? May I see its spine?"

Admittedly, it's sad I can't just look for a hoo-ha or weiner...(don't worry, we use the proper terms with Em...I just don't feel that comfortable with you! Ha!)

As she pushed on, likely, the fullest bladder in the world that morning, she showed me almost every other body part, confirming its presence and performance, before she headed down to check out the femurs. The femurs were...femurish...you know, long and femur looking. So that was good.

But, wait...what was that?

Me: Oh! Huh!?
Tech: Yeah, did you catch that?
Me: Pretty sure I did...back it up a little...
Tech: There you go.
Me: Are you sure that's not just engorged?
Tech: I'm sure. That is what you think it is.
Me: Oh my gosh, Em, you're having a brother! It's a baby boy!
Me: (Sob. Bawl. Sob. Wipe snot. Bawl. Smile. Sob with heaves and lip biting. Smile. Awe. Wonder. Bawl. Wipe more snot.)
Jason: (Quietly choking back tears in the dark room...Em just thinking he had sinus issues...)

Jason and I had planned on naming Noah "Mary" or "Claire" if he had been a girl. We both, likely out of protection of our hearts and emotions, had decided this was a girl. I had even oooohed and ahhhhed over cute girl clothes at BabyGap and found a super duper cute poster of Paris to put in her room.

Deep down, of course I wanted a boy. Boys melt Mommies' hearts. In the 7 weeks Noah was home after he was born I had the worst back and neck pain from staring down at him, constantly. I mean, way down deep love that is quite impossible for me to 'splain so I won't even try...

Back up years...like probably 5 or 6. I walked into one of our favorite local restaurants for take out. There was a mom and her older teenage son in line in front of me. He was tall, maybe a foot taller than his mom, and handsome. I remember looking at them and feeling a promise in my heart of God saying to me that one day I would have a son. I had always pictured him in that stage of life. FF to June 10, 2006 and I was overjoyed that I had a son...my promise. FF to January 12, 2007 and I'm not going to lie at how unfair and sick I felt that promise was...like a "psych" moment, but painful and gut-wrenching...a slap in the face.

FF to Tuesday, April 27th at approximately 9:30 am MT when we saw his parts...and having come through all we have, learning more about the God of the Universe who knows way more than I ever will and is good and has a plan, and trusting that He knows what is best and desires to bless His children...I could not help but bawl my head off, and my mascara, in hope and thankfulness for whatever it is He has in store.

However, at the same time, realizing that He is in charge. I trust Him. He has asked me to live one day at a time. And so, God has blessed me with two sons. One in His presence now and the other kicking the heck out of my entire abdominal cavity...

And I am thankful.

And I am in awe.

And I am treasuring one kick at a time.

And I am hanging onto hope...hope that one day I will meet this sweet little man face to face...and when I do, I will fall in love with him and he with me...and one day...

One day he will throw his arm around my 55 year old shoulder and smile down at me. And I will try to contain the squeals within me, stay cool and not act on all the kisses I'll want to plant on his cheeks and tell him how very handsome he is and how very proud of him I am...I'll just act cool and order our falafels.